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For the clearminded among the Westcrown mobs - or at least the differently-minded - the message of the call to arms was clear. The problem is not the bankers, or the nobles, or the mayor. The problem is that the Constitutional Convention, meant to create the new highest law of the land, was corrupt, full of diabolists and murderers and monsters and generally people there to promote their self-interest and not the good of the nation. So a good group of men got together, got their swords and their bows and their spellbooks and some ropes to hang people with, and marched over to the convention hall to find all the traitors and diabolists and string them up and save the kingdom.

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The convention hall is not a fortified building, and the guards there have all, by this point, been called away to deal with crises elsewhere in the city. It's completely undefended.

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It's also completely empty, the last of the committees having finished their business for the day hours ago.

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Oh well. The more enterprising men here make off with some of the gilt angels, a few fires get set, and the crowd holds a quick vote and decides to go looking for the diabolist nobles' homes.

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