1. Over Coffee and Blockade

March 22nd, 1786.
Lemery, Lescatie

It's been 400 years since Druella's invasion. Since the gates of the capital, Lemery, broke, and the hordes rolled through. The paved streets ran broken with the amount of trampling going on above them, with the amount of traffic from the monster girls never seen before. Shopkeepers, ever weary, now keep their blinds and window coverings nigh permanently shut now; lest they be broken through by an especially desperate Harpy or some other beast. The air runs thick with, dare I say, a pleasurable feeling. But for me, and my contemporaries, it is all but disgust. I (like many others) believe in these so-called 'new ideas'. We've labeled them the Rights of Man, I believe. The masses should consent to be ruled, I might think. Speech of any kind, critical of a government or not, should be protected, another one might. Our movement has been labeled the so-called Enlightenment. And while these might seem old, trust me, they are not. They predate my birth by 2 centuries or so; though then, the Queen, Francisca, was still alive. But with her death, came opportunity. A life of pleasure comes to bite one in a ass, I believe. Recently, she was thought to have died quite surprisingly. December 12th, 1763. Doctors almost couldn't diagnose her. But new research reached their ears, eyes, and minds. New 'sexually transmitted diseases', they said she died from. Quite fitting!

So, you have me, sitting in the town's coffee shop with my other revolutionaries and friends. Us always keeping an eye on our shoulder for a particularly touchy woman, and occasionally for another small cup of cream or cube of sugar for our coffee. Newspapers in front of us, we read. And discuss. Ideas take time to form; and civil discussion is like fertilizer to a field, with the field being ideas, and the civil discussion being the fertilizer. I adjust my waistcoat's collar ever so slightly. While it's bright green color is appealing, it's cotton-wool weaving certainly isn't. Without my undershirt, my neck would've been red from how much I would've itched it. "So, Samuel..." One of my friends, Vincent, greets me. I look up with a raised brow and sip my coffee, as he begins to explain why he called my attention. "Word of mouth, and paper goes to state that..." He ruffles his memory, and shakes his newspaper; likely to read the font better. "Ah, I got it! Due to the majority monster girl monarchy, Cadenburg is stopping shipments of goods." Cadenburg is a German-speaking duchy bordering Lescatie. It controls many strategic ports along the sea, and can lock us out of getting highly-prized goods, like coffee, tea, you name it. "...and what might that result to? The crowds are easy to disturb these days-" I say, almost abruptly stopping myself to take another drink.

"They say here in the paper that 400 people are gathering for a protest in the town square this evening..." Andrew explains, looking further down at the paper and taking a sip of his coffee. His tone suggests he's not really excited; more so he's expecting something big to happen. The winds of change strike us all, one way or another. "400? You're kidding me, right?" I asked, a bit bewildered, setting my cup down and looking at him a little bit closer. "...with such big news and upheaval? I wouldn't!" He declares, then taking a sip of his coffee. "What are we to wait? Let's go, now!" I suggest, as I stand up and adjust my waistcoat. Andrew does too, showing off his slightly more expensive purple waistcoat. "They've got to start organizing their rally, come on!" He says, ushering me out of the coffee house we're in. Departing with my cup of coffee with a few gold coins payment and a sip, me and him walk out to the street. Baroque architecture buildings make up the buildings of the street surrounding us, with the street itself being paved with a cobblestone road. Concrete made up the firm sidewalks we walked upon, as the carriages, horses, and people assumed duties on the street. And to think, in my mind, this place used to be quite hectic with monster girls! The air runs thick of anticipation, as the denizens of Lemery walk by. Hellhounds, echidnas, humans, you name it. Really in an unexpected long peace.

Me and Andrew walk along the sidewalk, taking in the city air and the multiple rounds of pedestrians. And, alas, we spot our target: the rallying point. The town square is a circular shaped landmark at the city, being a circle-shaped street made of cobblestone. On the sidewalks surrounding it, multiple vendors and salesmen attempt to get their services out there, and in the middle, the so-called Glory of Druella castle stands. If I can make it blunt as possible, it's literally Druella pinning down a man and raping him. In bright white marble form, carved out of a brick of said marble, and now set on a podium to be displayed in town. Me and Andrew scowl at the obscenity of said statue, and go on our merry way, looking at the amount of common folk huddling in a group, preparing their signs for protest. "They can't get away with this for much longer!" One denizen shouts out. "Why are monsters ruling over the people? Humans? Hypocritical, I might say!" One also shouts. An absolute oven for something to explode or crystalize. Luckily for us, and the soon-to-be protesters, nothing quite attracts the attention of Lescatie's military or police. Me and Andrew take a seat on a nearby public bench, not before stopping by a food vendor and getting us two pieces of chocolate pie. Food for both thought of the oncoming protest and our bellies.

We all hear the church bell gong at the tick of 6 P.M. on the clock. Showtime for the protesters. We have yet to know the name of it's leader, who steps out to the front and on the steps leading up to the courthouse. A de-facto stand/altar if you will. He's a gruff-looking man; heavy features of the face, brown eyes, and a unwigged nor powdered hair that's unstyled to current noble fashion. A man of the people that the common folk can rally behind. He starts by clearing his throat, and gazing across the crowd. He finally starts; and to my surprise, it is no a shout or yell, but a loud enough calm talk. "...since the creation of humanity by our Chief God, we've enjoyed the luxury of ruling ourselves." He begins, sounding quite somber in his tone. "Millenia passed; the rights of the human race were respected, unviolated by the corruption of Druella and her forces." He stops abruptly, and looks down at the ground, as if to mourn something, then back to the crowd. "...Lescatie and Lemery is a powder keg today. And the growing Enlightenment, and Cadenburg's blockade and stoppage of trade, serve as the metaphorical lit match." He stops once more, looking out to the crowd deeply. "And, that match, with the actions of our monarchy is being held ever closer. And to our terrifying realization, the people of Lescatie, a stray spark will jump and light it."