After another full day, we headed back toward The Templar’s Arms. A gathering around a puppet show caught our attention. The stage was dark, but we could clearly see a puppet Sparsom arguing with a puppet Goebbels. Many of the people watching wore red hats. They were trying to get the rest of the crowd agitated.
I managed to get in good with the crowd with a simple statement that I didn’t like to pay taxes. The random guy I was talking to let me have a red hat. I thought it would come in handy if I needed to work with these people in the future. I also asked about some of the fliers they had put up and were handing out. For those, the guy led me to someone named Red Knut. He had a few different fliers. Just as he was handing them to me, the watch came to break up the party.
Well, old Knut seemed to already have contingency plans for this. He wanted to lead his band of troublemakers to the temple of Sigmar next to pick up some more dissidents. I tried to motion which way we were going to Larry, who had left off talking to some of the watch.
We were able to talk people down a bit, starting at the temple of Sigmar. Someone in our group mentioned that the graf was planning to repeal the taxes. Regardless, twelve priests joined the mob…which then decided it needed to head to the Graf’s palace to hear if he was really going to repeal the taxes!
The mob picked up some wizards on the way to the palace, but nobody seemed like they were quite ready for violence at that point. The Knights Panther had been alerted and were in front of the palace, along with Larry’s mercenaries. It was also helpful that I was in the crowd, pretendeing to be fired up but also saying things like “Wait…I didn’t come to fight any knights!” The crowd dispersed, and that was the last I saw of Red Knut.
We checked out different fliers we had collected, and found they had been printed at Otto’s Printworks. We filed that information away for when we had a spare minute.
In the meanwhile, Larry had been assigned the task of bringing Law Lord Ehrlich from his self imposed exile of melancholy at his house to the palace. The guy was a basketcase. I had never seen someone so anxious and depressed. He wouldn’t even let anyone in except me, and I didn’t know what to say to the guy. Somehow we eventually pieced together that his neice was the blond headed girl the mutants kidnapped into the city, and he won’t be of any use until she is in safe hands.
So we went to Otto’s Printworks. The guy tried to bald-faced lie to us about printing the subversive broadsheets. We could tell by the way he fawned over one of the fliers we showed him, though, that he had printed them and he wanted others to appreciate his work.