Part One: The Gathering Storm

The guards shoot him a rotten look before returning to the workers. The one in charge looks a little shaken at Kyorlin's approach, though he doesn't say anything.

The guards start to look a bit nervous.

"Don't listen to him, men, follow your orders!" Barked the guard captain.

Jerell noticed that they were all trying to go in one particular direction, rather than anywhere in particular, but were doing nothing other than attempting to walk that way, as though their minds were broken. There were back streets and alleyways on either side that invariably went the same way, but the few that were trying to move were just trying to walk down the main thoroughfare.

Hesitantly, one of the guards bit his lip as he brought down his club on the closest worker. There was no fight, the drow just crumpled down, unconscious. "Get to work!" He yelled, still noticeably unsure.

The guard that hit the worker dropped his club, still slick with the blood of the drow. "Oh god, what have I done?" he muttered under his breath, turning to the captain for support.

"Easy, soldier, everything's OK. You're going to be OK. He's just trying to get under your skin."

The guard captain goes to look at Kyorlin, but the pair have already stolen away down a side street. He swore to himself as the other guards looked at him expectantly.

"Fuck it, let them be. We're not getting our way and us being here is just going to make a mess that we will probably have to clean up. Fall back to the station, men. Let's discuss this with the lieutenant and see if we can't fix this mess."

The soldiers all back away cautiously from the workers, then turn and leave.

Meanwhile, Kyorlin and Jerell skulk through an alleyway to find another major road that is blocked in the same way.

"Jerell!" the pair hear as one of the workers lifts their hand and waves. Jerell saw that the hand belonged to an old friend, one who began his durance as Jerell was finishing his. One of the last things that Jerell had done in service to the aelfir was training this boy, who now stood a little taller than Jerell remembered him.The guards at this road eye the pair cautiously, but are less vigilant than the other ones.

You can see that amongst the workers are several drow that do not have the glazed-over look in their eyes, though they seem to be sitting around doing nothing in particular anyway.

"Waine! By our Lady, it's good to see you, must've been what, 8 years since I saw you. You still working for them?" Jerell asks the last with no trace of an accusation in his tone, he knows that everybody has to earn a living somehow.
He walks up to Waine, who is now half a hand taller than him, and looks a few years older than him as well. The hard work in the factories has left Waine with wiry muscles, and premature lines on his face.
After the hug, Jerell wipes some soot from his face and armor, "I had forgotten about the damn soot. How are you? How is everything going here?"

Waine smiled as Jerell approached. "Jerell, my brother. I’m not sure what to say, but terrible and fantastic. This," and he swept his arm around, motioning to the crowd, "started as a tragedy but some friends and I have started to think that we can use it to our advantage. People are already not working, let’s claim it as a protest!"

The guards then noticed the three people standing in the crowd of zombie like workers and started to weave through towards them.

Waine followed Kyorlin’s gesture and cursed under his breath. "Come with me" he said, as he ducked into the crowd. The pair had a little trouble keeping sight of him as he wove through the workers, till suddenly all they saw was a door swing close. Following through the door, Waine peeked through as it shut, watching the guards fail to catch the direction the group had gone.

He sighed. "They’re starting to catch on"

"Anything that gets the guard suspicious seems like we should make the most of it,"Jerell says with a wide and slightly maniacal grin.