Hearing the commotion, Indranil, with Gar right on his heels, runs outside and sees the howling mob.

“Damn it all! What now?!” shouts Lorindel angrily. “We’ve got to do something with these three prisoners; if not, they’ll just run out and we’ll have to take them again.”

Fingol runs up the stairs of the mission, “Gentlemen! The Olman are rioting. Secure the prisoners and get to the docks!”

“I’ll join you, Sir Fingol!” Gar shouts.

Godric quickly surveys the scene and then calls for his squires. He turns to Fingol, “Sir Fingol, please take care of the prisoners and look after the mission!”

Godric then whistles and seemingly from out of nowhere a magnificent white warhorse trots over to him, saddled and ready to go. The squires quickly help him up onto it and he rides off after Commander Gorman.

Absent mindedly, Gar responds to no one in particular, “My taste in men is like a fine wine, well aged.” Then he begins praying for everyone’s protection, first for himself and then he respectfully touches the shoulders of those around him for their protection as well.

Fingol runs out, “Sirs we need some manacles – four sets in all.”

Commander Gorman and Godric are now riding side-by-side. Commander Gorman looks back and shouts, “Sgt. Apone, send four of your men over to put manacles on Sir Fingol’s prisoners.”

Within moments Sgt. Apone has sent Rain, Noch, Vaskez, and Hex over to accompany Fingol. The squires have already ushered the wounded Olman into the mission as instructed by Godric.

“Thank you sirs,” Fingol calls after the departing knights, he then runs back into the mission with the watch members following. They begin putting manacles on the four captive Olman.

To everyone inside the mission, Fingol says, “I think we need to fortify this place as best we can. What do you say? What can we use for barricades? And where do we set them?” Fingol looks around for barricade materials, old pews, timbers anything the Olmans may have left behind. 

Indranil walks over to Fingol and says quietly to him, “Sir Fingol, may I suggest that you send the squires, the four secured Olman and the statue back to the palace for safe keeping with a guard? Who knows if the riot will overwhelm us here and what horrors can further happen to the statue. I will volunteer to lead them back safely and then return on horseback to assist with securing the riot.”

Jankin, who has come back in as well replies, “Actually Sir Godric told the squires to take the cart and get back to the keep until things have settled. They have the head of Heironeous with them. They’re not going that fast though, so I can take these four Olman back and then report to my own unit back at the palace. Then you can stay here with your brother, Sir Fingol, and Father Gar. You should be able to hold things for awhile with these watch members.”

Gar starts to pull some of the pews over to barricade the entrance of the mission.

Hex speaks up, “Sorry milords, but I believe that Sgt. Apone wanted the four of us to return to our squad once these prisoners were secured. Do you have any further need of us here?”

Fingol offers his hand to Hex, and with a big grin he says, “The gods watch over you in the fight and keep it away from us, for I don’t think there will be much to keep it out!” 

The watch members leave. Rain says to Fingol and the others, “Good luck, milords.”

To Lorindel and Indranil he says, “Gar’s got the right idea. Let’s build up as much of a barricade as we can.” Fingol also grabs a supply of the javelins and brings them to the front door. 

Indranil says, “It’s a bad idea to hole up here. We’re no better than rats in a cage. The Olman mob can easily surround us and burn us out. I say we join Rain with her squad and assist Sgt Apone. I am in need of a good stand up fight!”

“I agree Indranil.” Fingol replies, “but Sir Godric charged us with keeping the mission. Undefended it will surely burn.”

Indranil says, “We can’t hold it with only four of us. We will die and still lose the mission. Our best chance of honoring Sir Godric’s order is out there where we have freedom to maneuver and muster our troops to mass an attack.”

Jankin, herding the prisoners out adds, “Sir Indranil has a point. I don’t think Sir Godric wants you to lose your lives trying to save a jumble of stones and a beheaded metal idol. We can always build new temples and consecrate new statues. To be honest, I think he just wanted you to stay back here where it might be safer than down the street. If the fight does come this way, well, better to get out while you can. Anyway, I’ve had my say. I’m taking these three back to the keep where they’ll be safe and out of the way until their day in court.” With that, Jankin leads the Olman out of the mission and up the Processional to catch up with the cart.

Indranil says, ”Come on Sir Fingol let’s go bash some heads and make sure they don’t get this far.”

Fingol rejoins, “If we can’t hold it, we can escape out the window. If we stay and hold the door for a few minutes, it may give the guard enough time to break siege. If more is needed, than the town may indeed be lost and this mission would be the least of our worries. In any case, these are our orders. I have no authority to hold you to them. Do as you must.”

“Whether we stay and fight or join the guard, I agree we’ll stand a better chance out in the open,” adds Lorindel. “I’m only as good as my surrounds. If I can’t stay mobile in battle, I’d be of more use escorting the pages than trying to hold ground in here.”

Considering all that was said, Fingol picks up the javelins. “Fair enough. Gar, are you with me?”

“Oh crap,” responds Gar, “I’m in.” Rubbing his little Green Man he says another prayer for protection.

“Oh crap is right. Let’s follow Sir Indranil out into the fight.”

When Rain returns to the squad she mentions to Sgt. Apone, “Sergeant, if Sir Fingol’s men stay in there and are overrun, they will die with nowhere to escape. I suggest pulling them into our unit or dispatching a few of us to help them defend.”

Sgt. Apone scoffs. “Those headstrong nobles! Wasting their lives defending an abandoned mission when that mob down there is about to burn down shops and homes where innocent people are actually living. If they want to stay in there then let them! We have serious work to do. Speaking of which, Tanglefoot Lane is just over there. Why don’t you run and get Aramek. Bring him back here on the double.”

Just then Godric spurs his warhorse and charges down the Processional into the mob, for the Olman there had begun breaking shutters, throwing rocks at those who had not gotten out of the streets, and torching the buildings on either side of the Processional. The Olman scream and scramble out of the way, many start running away off into the side streets, but there are plenty of others roaring with rage. They close in on the knight and try to drag him from his horse as he lays about him with the flat of his blade. Rain now sees that smoke is already covering the city from the docks and other locations downriver.

“Quickly Rain, get our sorcerer!” yells Sgt. Apone over the clamor.

Rain instantly replies, “Will do!” and begins sprinting towards Tanglefoot lane to retrieve Aramek.

In the meantime, Godric has continued whacking people with the flat of his blade as his horse rears and lunges amidst the mob to scatter them. Unfortunately, Godric overreaches and is pulled from his horse with a loud crash on the cobblestones. His warhorse, Ardent, however, stays over him, kicking at all those who try to come at Godric. The crowd soon disperses, but it is evident that rioters are still all over Westkeep, burning and looting.

“Where did Gorman send Rain?” wonders Fingol aloud, ”To Master Parwyn’s shop?” Looking to Indranil he asks, “What do you think? Do we chase Rain or help Sir Godric to his horse?”

Indranil replies, “Aye where indeed! I trust Commander Gorman would not send her to her demise just yet and Sir Godric is in more immediate danger of being overwhelmed again. Let’s go help him recover his seat and then go bash those heads. I won’t be using the flat of my blade either!” 

 With that Indranil draws his sword and readies his shield and charges down the street to Sir Godric’s side shouting, “For the King!”

Fingol charges after him, “Please do use the flat of your blade. Prince Prospero hopes to rule this town not bury it.”

Fingol transfers the javelins to his shield hand, and pulls out his hammer.

“I’ll do my best Sir Fingol, but unfortunately my arrows do not have a flat side,” shouts Lorindel as he nocks an arrow and prepares to dash into position. “I will draw blood, but I will try not to kill,” he adds. 

As they are running towards Sir Godric, Indranil shouts over his shoulder with a wide smile, “My old sword master once said ‘don’t pull your sword unless you intend to finish what you started!’”

Not waiting, Gar springs toward Godric with the others, “Milord!”

Commander Gorman shouts to his sergeants to maintain their formations and follow him to clear the Processional. Then he rides to the assistance of Godric. Not having to maintain formation, Fingol, Gar, Indranil and Lorindel are able to catch up to him just as he stoops down to help the shaken Godric to his feet. Unfortunately, that is when a new wave of Olman warriors come storming out of the side streets, clubs and torches raised. They attempt to take down Commander Gorman and keep Godric from remounting his horse.

Lorindel is the first to react, firing a shot that takes his foe right between the eyes. Lorindel quickly moves back up the Processional towards the oncoming watch and then turns around to line up another shot.

Several Olman try to rush Godric, but Ardent interposes itself before him, lashing out with its hooves and splitting the heads of two of them wide open and biting another one so severely that he runs off cradling his mangled right arm. One does get through but his blow goes wide and then Godric is upon him and he is no more. Godric moves on to strike down another with his longsword. The other Olman soon give a wide berth to this invincible silver plated killing machine and his vicious warhorse.

Fingol swings his light hammer at a crazed Olman who leaps at him from a darkened alley and succeeds in almost breaking his arm, the Olman howls in agony and scuttles back into the shadows.

Gar, pulls the seed head of a dandelion out of his pocket and just before an Olman can reach him he waves it and intones a short spell. A wind suddenly lifts him up into the air. He spits a ball of flame from his mouth as he floats down upon a nearby second story balcony. The flames engulf the Olman who dared to attack him, sending the unfortunate human torch racing back down the Processional towards the river until he collapses into a twitching pile of burning flesh.  

One Olman manages to catch Indranil on his sword hand with his club, but fortunately does not break his hand though it certainly feels like it. Indranil steels himself against the pain and disembowels the Olman for his pains.

Commander Gorman’s expertise in guiding his horse is a wonder to behold as he cuts off any Olman warriors trying to move up the Processional towards Godric and the others. At least five are either cut down by his sword or trampled into the cobblestones by his warhorse.

The Olman rioters soon learn to keep their distance from Godric and his friends. Godric is soon remounted. At that point, Commander Gorman’s platoon has reached them. They are spread out across the street with their spears still held lengthwise in both hands so they can push away any lingering Olman. Only on occasion do the back ranks have to lower their padded spears to poke at those who try to push back.

Commander Gorman turns to Godric, flips up his visor, and asks, “Are you all right Sir Godric?” When Godric nods in the affirmative, he asks, “Could you then take one of my squads and secure the marketplace? I’ll take the other two and continue clearing the Processional and then we’ll sweep the docks.”

Commander Gorman turns to Fingol and the others, “Several Olman headed down Tanglefoot Lane and may cause havoc among the upriver shops and homes. Others have gone downriver along Rum Road and have already been burning and looting in that direction. If you want to stay out here, those are two areas where I’m sure your help would be appreciated.” He then flips his visor back down and returns to the lead of his troops as they relentlessly make their way down the Processional.

While all of this is going on, the bard known as Maynard the Keen climbs up onto the balcony of his inn and with the accompaniment of his fellow musicians looks down upon the burning city and the fighting in the streets and begins singing a melancholy and sardonic commentary:

 Angels on the sideline,

Puzzled and amused.

Why did Father give these humans free will?

Now they’re all confused.

Don’t these talking monkeys know that

Eden has enough to go around?

Plenty in this holy garden, silly monkeys,

Where there’s one you’re bound to divide it.

Right in two.

Angels on the sideline,

Baffled and confused.

Father blessed them all with reason.

And this is what they choose.

And this is what they choose…

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey

Over pieces of the ground.

Silly monkeys give them thumbs,

They forge a blade,

And where there’s one

they’re bound to divide it,

Right in two.

Right in two.

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey.

Over pieces of the ground.

Silly monkeys give them thumbs.

They make a club.

And beat their brother, down.

How they survive so misguided is a mystery.

Repugnant is a creature who would squander the ability to lift an eye to heaven

conscious of his fleeting time here.

Cut it all right in two [x4]

Fight over the clouds, over wind, over sky

Fight over life, over blood, over prayer,

overhead and light

Fight over love, over sun,

over another, Fight…

Angels on the sideline again.

Benched along with patience and reason.

Angels on the sideline again

Wondering when this tug of war will end.

Cut it all right in two [x3]

RIGHT IN TWO!

Right in two…

“I always say, ‘Never split up the party,’ so whatever we decide, we should go together,” suggests Lorindel. “I’m sure much of the watch will move to protect Tanglefoot and I’d hate to see Rum Road destroy itself. So which way?” asks Lorindel.

Fingol shouts over the roaring chaos, “I think we should check on Master Pawyn’s shop. There are secrets there that we can’t even guess at, and whatever they are we should keep them from Nauyotl.”

Indranil replies, “Agreed. We should stick together. Let’s head up to Master Pawyn’s shop. Sir Fingol’s right, there are secrets there that we can’t let Nauyotl get access to and we can yet lend Rain a hand.”

“Good,” shouts down Gar. “Let’s go check on our friends! Just give me a moment to get down from here.” Gar hastens inside from the balcony he landed on, goes down the stairs and out the front door, while casting another Resistance spell on himself.