French Revolution Mafia [Concluded]

[GeneralHankerchief]

"From the political point of view, Paris is too large. There are evils that are impossible to do away with once they have taken root."
~ Louis-Sébastien Mercier

Night 1

Despite the nature of the emergency and the general pall of fear that had fallen over the city, Paris's Market Day was still a thoroughly satisfying experience. Treasures from all over France and the world - though less so from the rest of Europe, lately, for obvious reasons - could be found, browsed, and purchased at the patrons' leisure. Aromas, both pleasant and less so, wafted over the streets and squares to create a unique blend. And then, of course, there were the sans-culottes, patrolling the streets to make sure that nobody was fomenting disorder and that everybody was addressing each other by the proper title of "citoyen" and certainly not "monsieur" or "madame" - those titles promoted the old order, you see, and everybody was equal now.

Sadly, while the sans-culottes were very good at sniffing out political danger, they were less adept at sniffing out criminal danger - you know, the thing that actual police and guards were good at.

Fenn was one of those who was perusing the various wares without a care in the world. He knew that he would have Convention duty later in the day, where once again he would most likely vote to condemn one of his colleagues to the guillotine in the interest of sniffing out the Royalist threat, but that was later. For now, there was a lovely piece of china that had caught his attention.

"Ooh, look at the finish on this one!" he said to nobody in particular, noting a cup that would be perfect to pour tea in while attending his favorite literary salon.

"You like that one?" the salesman said, noting Fenn's interest. "Everything in my stall is Ming - nothing that the nobles used, of course, but was rather sold to and made by the peasantry and bourgeois class. It's truly a way to show your sophistication to your peers while at the same time advancing the revolutionary cause across the world. If you're interested, I have a matching set, including a much larger vase-"

"I'll take the vase," a new, unfamiliar voice rang out, and before Fenn and the proprietor could react this third person snatched the very large vase, held it up high, and brought it down as hard as he could over Fenn's head. Fenn crumpled to the ground in a heap, while his assailant quickly pulled out a knife and cut the unconscious Fenn's throat to finish the job.

Standing back up to face the shocked proprietor, the attacker pointed to the shards now littering the ground. "Don't bother. It's a fake anyway."


Monstrdude was out inspecting the local Parisian guard as part of his Convention duties. As a Militarist, and a military engineer by trade, he was a natural choice for this. The guards had survived the levée en masse and were not called up to the front, but they might be in the future depending on how the war was going, and so they needed to be completely ready and dedicated to defend the Revolution. This was what Monstr would determine in his inspection.

The common soldiers looked good, and were very patriotic, occasionally breaking out into song as he was doing his work. Monstr was very pleased. These soldiers were exemplary patriots and defenders. The officers, though... that was a different story. He made his way into the unstable-looking brick building where the officers' quarters were to ream them out.

"Drinking on the job, desk strewn with papers unbecoming of officers, general untidiness, maps twenty years out of date, did you forget that this is no longer the ancien régime? Commissions are earned by merit now, not won through connections!" Several of the officers, to their credit, looked guilty, but the lead did not seem to notice and instead signaled to the soldiers outside, who immediately broke into a very loud rendition of the Marseillaise.

"Allons enfants de la patrie
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
Contre nous de la tyrannie..."

"No no, stop singing!" Monstr shouted, "I can't even hear myself think! Look, citoyen, uh... citoyen officer, I admire your patriotism and what you've inspired in your men, but your work is simply below par!" The lead officer seemed to process none of this, occasionally glancing upward as if he was looking at something.

"Your drills are six weeks behind! By now the men should have mastered riflery and progressed to larger-scale maneuvers like flanking marches and the like! The fact that they have not done this is on you! AND WILL YOU GET THEM TO STOP THAT INFERNAL SINGING!"

"AUX ARMES, CITOYENS!
FORMEZ VOS BATAILLONS!
MARCHONS, MARCHONS!
QU'UN SANG IMPUR
ABREUVE NOS SILLONS!"

At last, Monstr would get deliverance, as the movements that the singing had been designed to cover for were completed. As Monstr was midway through his apoplectic rage, a very large brick got dropped on his head from the second story, and that was the end of that.


Logic was in his home, going over the latest set of pamphlets that he would be releasing tomorrow. While his work was no L'ami du peuple, Logic was still proud of his output, where he had written three articles, six editorials, and come up with four rather catchy slogans that he hoped the crowd would soon adopt. The fight for influence was not solely limited to the floor of the Convention, after all - the Revolution had always advanced on the streets of Paris, and Logic hoped that this trend would continue.

"Okay, let's go through this list," he said to himself, starting to rifle through the papers on his desk. "Royalists in the Convention! The Revolution at risk!, good. The progress of the war in the last fortnight, good, let's make sure there's the perfect balance of inspiring victory to keep morale up as well as danger in order to keep the people's war-readiness high. The harsh plot of the British Pitt, that will work... Why the Vendée matters, yes... Noted journalist Logic found dead in his office, good, next one is - wait a minute, what?"

"Oh, yeah," said a second voice in the room, stepping out of the shadows, "This was a last-minute addition. I decided to use my editorial privilege."

"What on earth are you talking about?" said Logic. "I own this paper. I edit it, I publish it! You can't - you can't - it's not even true!"

"I big to differ," said the second figure, and before Logic could react the second figure took out a sword, moved towards the desk, and took Logic's head off in one slice, his blood seeping out of his body mixing in with the spilled ink.


Paris was truly a city of everything - it was full of intellectuals, artists, politicians, shopkeepers, bakers, chefs, criminals, orphans, criminal orphans, criminals who made orphans, and even more. But one other thing that Paris was full of was brothels. This was where Kagemusha found himself on this night.

"Ah, welcome back Kagemusha," the... madame? That term was discouraged in Revolutionary France and all... perhaps citoyenne? Let's go with citoyenne.

"Ah, welcome back Kagemusha," the citoyenne said. "Will it be the usual tonight?"

"Thank you, citoyenne, but tonight is special. We are finally starting to root out the Royalists among us once and for all! I figured since it's going to require all of our subtlety and adaptation to the unknown, I will fully embrace that spirit. Surprise me!"

"Very well," said the citoyenne, with the tiniest of smirks crossing her face. She started going through her book. "Hmm... ah yes, this will do nicely. Bertha, the exotic wonder from the United States. Here to spread the spirit of liberty and hopefully not anything else if she knows what's good for her."

"That sounds very patriotic," Kage said. "I'm in!" And so he made his way to Bertha's room, where a surprisingly masculine voice greeted him.

"Close the door."

Wow, is this how the Americans like their women? Kage wondered to himself, but followed Bertha's instructions. Upon finishing with the door and surveying the room for the first time, he found his answer. Bertha was not a woman at all. "Bertha" was a very large man, and well-armed.

"As it turns out this brothel also offers very competitive rates for using rooms to murder people in", "Bertha" said, finishing his work quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fenn has been killed! He was:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Robert Lindet, a Militarist!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Not a Royalist.

Monstrdude has been killed! He was:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Lazare Carnot, a Militarist!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Also a Royalist!

Logic has been killed! He was:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Camille Desmoulins, a Populist!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Not a Royalist.

Kagemusha has been killed! He was:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Madame Roland, a Girondin!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Also a Royalist!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is now Day 2!

Voting will end Monday, March 13 at 1:00 PM US Eastern time! Note that American Daylight Savings time happens tonight/tomorrow which might screw with the deadline - I mean it to end at actually 1 PM. May make an adjustment to the timer if necessary. I will let you know about this.



Feedback is still to go out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive (19):
Al Sipsclar
Arakhor
Askthepizzaguy
atheotes
autolycus
BSmith
Choxorn
Csargo
Dp101
El Barto
Lewwyn
Manasi
Montmorency
NotACop
Renata
seireikhaan
Snerk
Sooh
Zack

Killed:
Fenn
Monstrdude
Logic
Kagemusha

Guillotined:
Jabbz