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"The wind goes toward the south, and turns about unto the north; he whirls about continually, and the wind returns again according to his own circuits."
- Ecc. 1:6

Our story begins in Jerusalem, the capital city of the Kingdom of Judah. A 16 year old boy, Uzziah, has been anointed King of Judah after the murder of his father the former King Amaziah at the hands of the Edomites. This was some three months ago. In response to the perceived weakness of Judah's new king, the Northern Israelites have begun to press in upon the border of Judah. This fact oppresses the thoughts of all the people of Judah.

The time of year is spring, the particular day the Sabbath, and the time of day is almost high noon. The services at the altar of the Temple have been completed for the day and the crisp coniferous scent of frankincense still hangs in the air at the Temple Steps, near the lower city of Jerusalem.

A young man, Melchior and his younger sister Levinia of the tribe of Judah are present at this day in the plaza south of the Temple Steps, drawn in along with most of the inhabitants of the city and area surrounding Jerusalem to hear the prophet Zecchariah, who has recently arrived in Jerusalem. They stand on the southern fringe of the crowded plaza, much too far to hear what is being said there, but able to see the prophet who stands a good two feet over the crowd upon his steps. The crowd itself appears to be around two thousand men, women and children. No-one other than the prophet and his entourage, and a group of priests and temple guardians stand upon the steps. The day is oppressively hot and tempers run short. The selling of goods and the sowing of fields is prohibited on this day of rest, but despite this, the people seem profoundly restless. Men snarl and jostle one another to get closer to the temple steps that they might hear what the prophet has to say. Women chase after children that they may not irritate the men. Zecchariah has not yet begun to speak, but rather stands two steps above the plaza, conferring with several anointed priests.

A priest named Alon stands in the small group of priests and temple guardians on the temple steps, several steps higher and somewhat to the east of the prophet. He has been attached to the temple only slightly longer than the prophet has been here, and as such had participated in the ritual this day. He feels somewhat averse to the crowd, which from his point of view, bristles with agitation to hear what the prophet has to say. A young temple guardian named Ashur, with whom Alon is acquainted, whistles appreciatively at the size of the crowd and wraps his fingers around his wooden staff.

"Anointed," he whispers to Alon, so that none of other priests and guardians nearby may hear, "It is rumored that the Edomites have allied themselves with the Northerners against us. If this is so, they will surely come from Jericho to take the temple and ruin us all. If the Prophet confirms that it is so, I will intend to protect the temple by raising a group of Judean warriors striking north against the Edomites before they have the chance. You have shown yourself to be strong and wise - perhaps..."

Ashur trails off without finishing his thought, having noticed that Zecchariah has raised his hands to silence the crowd, and a hush falls over the plaza. Zecchariah however, for the moment says nothing.

Melchior senses that while the crowd is distracted, he may have a chance to push forward enough to hear the Prophet speak.

Levinia, out of the corner of her eye, spots three of her acquaintances, rogues by the name of Seth, Shiran and Nehura, working into the crowd from the southeast, and suspects they are up to no good.

Now is your chance to act.

Alon nods to Ashur. "We will talk later" he whispers back, but for the moment turns his ears to Zecchariah. His eyes, however, are on the crowd. This would be a good occasion for troublemakers to sow unrest and discord among the people of Jerusalem, or cause a panic.

Melchior stands among the crowd, his arms folded, trying to ignore the heat. He watches the crowds and noticed their agitation. Between the temperature and the rumors of war, he understands how they felt. Still, he worries. Hopefully the prophet doesn't say anything that angers them further. A full riot could break out, and he and his sister would be caught in the middle of it.

When the hush falls over the crowd, he leans toward his sister and whispers, "Looks like we might be able to squeeze forward. Interested?"

Levina doesn't pay much attention to the crowd, as she knows how dangerous it could become within any second. ~What do they think they are doing?~ she thinks to herself as she watches her acquaintances. Her brother's words bring her out of her own thoughts though, and she turns her head to look at him. "We'll have to be careful. It is smothering within that crowd," she says.

Nodding, Mel offers his hand to her. If she accepts it, he will help lead her through the crowd to get closer to the prophet.

Levina takes her brother's hand, but she tries to keep an eye on her acquaintances as she begins to squeeze her way into the crowd.

Mel begins to push his way north into the throng toward the temple steps, leading his sister by the hand. Human smells of sweat and grime mingle with the sweet scent of the incense offering, becoming an overpowering melange of earthly and sacrosanct. The din of the crowd has died to a low murmur, but Mel cannot escape the feeling of impending violence tenuously repressed. Still, the prophet does not speak.

Meanwhile, Levinia strains to keep an eye on the trio of street persons, moving through the crowd. Levinia has not known them long - and this a secret she has kept from her brother. Not that she is accountable to him for the company that she keeps - but it seems to her that Melchior would disapprove of these three.

They are Simeonites, wanderers from the south who were driven to Jerusalem with a group of their tribesmen during the invasion of the Egyptian Wadi some 18 years ago. They boast of their acquaintances in Philistia and among the Arabs of the deserts. Nehura is the eldest and de facto leader of the group; she claims to have seen 36 years and remember them all. She is short and squat, a powerful woman with dark hair, a blunt nose and narrow eyes. The second is Seth - a tall and lanky man around the age of 28. His manner is clumsy and churlish, but those who know him quickly begin to suspect this as a mere facade. He has a pock-marked face, piercing green eyes, fiery red hair and a temper to match.

The youngest of the three, the best known to Levinia, is Shiran. He was only a baby when he was carried to Jerusalem from the southland. He has since then grown into quite a large young man. He is all muscle and sinew; nearly twice the weight of Seth, though he stands slightly shorter. He is a good natured youth with bright eyes and a brighter smile. His love of jokes and games is well known to all. It is to him Levinia pays the most attention, and it is he who first notices her watching the crew, and waves to her. Nehura and Seth pause and exchange a few words. Shiran seems not to be aware of the temper of the crowd, nor the silence of the prophet, who still stands motionless with his hands raised high above his head.

Mel notices a large young man, apparently waving at him 30 or 40 yards away in the crowd.

**Jaded - roll a D20 against WIS at a -4 penalty**
**Horizon - roll a D20 against WIS**
**Horizon - roll a proficiency check for Read Lips at a -4 penalty**

Alon and Ashur stand side by side amongst the priests and guardians on the temple steps rapt in attention to the motionless prophet and throng below. After a few tense moments, a murmur begins to sweep through those of the priestly caste; "Why does he not speak?" "He revels in power" "This prophet is a pretender." "He set the boy, Uzziah upon the throne."

Ashur knits his brow in anger and looks about at the murmuring priests. He is a large man with a bushy beard, fair hair and eyes. He is girded about with the pelt of a lion, and carries a short sword, a sling, and many pouches at his waist. He hisses in a loud tone, "Let the prophet speak!" and glances to Alon for support.

OOC: Invisible castle is down, so I used my own dice at home for the roll.
WIS Roll= 6
Reading Lips Roll= 14

IC: Levina smiles lightly to Shiran before she turns to her brother. "I don't much like the feeling of this crowd," she admits in a whisper. "And why is the prophet just standing there like that?" she asks.

Mel pauses and nods to the man waving to him. "Dear sister," he whispers, "do you know that man? As for the prophet, I couldn't say. Dramatic pause? Or maybe he forgot what he was going to say. I hear prophets are an eccentric lot."

==============

Melchior makes a WIS check with a -4 penalty (1d20): 7, pass (just barely)

Alon remains impassive, looking at the crowd rather than at the prophet. Is there someone who looks like he was preparing to throw a stone or something else?

"Uh, yeah," Levina says. "I've seen him around town a few times," she explains vaguely.

The slight feeling of uneasiness that Mel had upon entering the crowd has mounted to near dread. The faces of those men around him begin to look ugly angry. He gets a distinct feeling that he should leave this place, and take his sister with him.

Levia is unable to make out anything of what was said between Seth and Nehur - they are much too far away, and slightly obscured by the crowd - but she sees Seth's lips crack into a malignant smirk as he falls into step behind Shiran, who has begun to push his way through the crowd toward Levia and her brother. Nehura meanwhile has simply disappeared from view. The distance between the two pairs quickly diminishes by about 6 yards - Shiran, for his size, is surprisingly nimble in his movements.

"Lev! Hey, Lev!" Shiran calls, apparently not satisfied with a slight smile from the girl. His voice, much too loud for the hush that has worked its way over the crowd is met with jeers from several nearby field workers. "Be silent, scoundrel!"

Shiran looks embarrassed and begins to murmur what Levia suspects will be an apology to the men, but his words are cut short by a cry of anger to the north, somewhere in the crowd.

Melchior and Levia are about 12 yards from the southern fringe of the crowd, Shiran and Seth are about twice that distance to the east of them. The temple step are about 50 or 60 yards to the north.

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Scanning the crowd, Alon sees no-one arming themselves with stones or staves. Though he does not look upon the prophet, he can sense an aura of power radiating from him. All of a sudden, Alon faintly hears a cry of alarm or anger, and from his vantage point he can see a stirring in the throng somewhat toward the southeast. The guardian Ashur immediately senses the alarm in the people below, and turns his attention away from the murmuring of the priests. He takes a tenuous step down, and another before pausing, apparently considering what to do. The attention of both townspeople and priests has turned away from the prophet, for the moment.

OOC: Horizon - sorry I messed up your character's name. I see it is Levia, not Levinia. My error.

Alon walks down to stand beside Ashur again. "What should we do? Do you see the source of the commotion?" he continues to scan the crowd, trying to find out what is happening.

Mel tenses up. He whispers to his sister, "I think we better get out of here. Something's going on, the crowd is about to turn ugly."

Levia quickly puts a finger to her lips to signal that Shiran should be quiet! She has a feeling that Seth and Nehura might be trying to egg on the anger of the crowd. "Agreed," she says to her brother. She doesn't waste any time trying to get out of what could easily turn into an angry mob. She gives a small signal towards Shiran to let him know that she is backing out of the crowd.