The Insurrection is a group of malcontent youngsters that oppose... whatever; upper town kids that spend small fortunes on colorful (and less than subtle) prints which they plaster all over town. They are the best and wealthiest customers of the printing-works. They wear Mike(TM's Leather Boots) and are bored, bored, bored. Loitering around here and there, harassing old wives, throwing firecrackers at stiff-lipped sirs and ladies.
You throw it!
No, you throw it!!
Why are you scared?? George is sca-red, George is sca-red!! Look...wooo, are you trembling???
Stop it!! Ok I'll do it!
_WHY YOU LITTLE BASTARDS, WAIT 'TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOUEmbed: unknown type _
They are a nuisance and many would teach them a lesson - but most of their fathers are important bureaucrats (by which they are constantly harassed and lectured about decency and honor and a man's hard work).
...Rebels without a cause. But that doesn't stop them defending it diligently and full of conviction - it's not that they have anything better to do. Lately, the Insurrection has grown a much darker side. Some of the older kids have gotten mixed up with an old and friendly man that wanders around town, asking the spoiled streetrats why they haven't got a goal in their life, and why they don't care for the fate of the world, and why they don't believe in a higher cause. The stranger is an eloquent and zealous speaker, full of mystery.
One day, the splinter group of older kids vanished from the streets. New cryptic posters emerged, inciting the populous to "take up arms against the oppressor_ and to "replace the laws and rules of debauchery with the values of old". This splinter cell has but little contact with the younger faction, however they do recruit their members from it.
"Shall I tell you another tale, little ones?"
"Tell us, old one." They listened as the old man told his tale, this one even more intricate than the last. It all fitted: that was indeed how the world must now be. A new and sudden logic dawned on them as they listened in awe.
"And now...", the old man grinned as he finished his tale.
"Tell us more. Tell us all", they begged.
Now the old man laughed a hideous laugh. "In time... meanwhile, thou shall do terrible, vicious deeds to please me, to hear more, to learn more. My new... assistants."
Horror dawned upon them. Now they knew they needed more of his stories to unlock the puzzle - the riddles would haunt them during their sleepless nights. And they knew they would do terrible things for just one word, one word of the old man's stories.