Cry Clown, Cry [Part One of Five]

I am one of the last.
The few Clowns that still inhabit this planet. The Imperial Republic of Reconstruction have set their eyes on those they've deemed "Magical". I think it's bull, they just want to wipe out any sort of threat, and creature that the humans find themselves afraid of.
My existence is like a bounty. A huge fucking bull's eye that says, "Hey, I'm different, kill me!". They just had to start with the Clowns, didn't they?
Now, if I were smart I would have stayed away from London, one of the major human cities, mainly because of their mass production of steel and steam engines. The humans call this time The Industrial Revolution, I call it The End of Days.
There's no way to hide my markings, they were given to me at birth. All clowns are born with these birth marks. Our skin a bright white color, huge circles around our lips--different depending on what time of year you were born. I am orange, which means I was born in the spring, although I've never been cheerful. It is customary for clowns to make other races laugh, it was our way of preventing hostel take overs for hundreds of years, but I can only seem to make myself cry.
The tears stop, sure, but no clown should cry as much as I do. It's as if I am the fountain of my entire species sorrow.
How am I still alive, you might ask yourself. Most of us clowns are bards, wandering performers, but I am not. I was far more interested in gaining knowledges, some call me a Blue Mage because I learn the spells of those I defeat in battle. Many do not know this, but we clowns are cousins to the Illithid or as the humans refer to them, The Mind Flayers, because of our tentacles. Most do not understand at first, but yes, clowns have tentacles--inside their mouths that only reveal themselves when a clown has killed another creature. We use the tentacles to extract the brain from the creature and learn something that it knew.
Take for example, the old bard I killed when he challenged me to a duel after I refused to pay him for telling a joke. From him I learned a magical ability known as 'feather fall'. For most, it just makes them fall to the earth slower, which it also does for me, but because of what I am, I inflate. Some races must find that funny, I do not.
Back to why I am here. I am in London, during a time when steam energy is the most used and reliable energy, in hopes to destroy The Imperial Army.

I walk down the streets, staying close to the walls, keeping myself covered. I try to make myself, at only a glance, appear to be nothing more than a stout human male. I'm trying to find some sort of rebel group, who has the same idea as I. So I seek out other magical creatures who may be hiding in the city. So far, it's been two days and not a single magical creature in sight. There's always tomorrow though.

-Sir Jestro