From: John Constable (john_at_kript.net)
Date: Fri Sep 19 2003 - 08:17:21 BST
On Wednesday, September 17, 2003, at 05:10 am, Naron wrote:
> <Second - it is a very long post - sorry>
OOC: No need to apologise! :-)
>
> The questioning over you sit and await the fate that may befall you
> all. Maerath has not been seen since they separated you all, and you
> can see from the barred windows that night is falling.
>
> The guards are unresponsive to any questioning and serve you only a
> meal of a porridge like gruel. You attempt to get as comfortable as
> possible for the night. The air has a wwarm sweet quality to it but
> your sleep is troubled as your thoughts all turn to the ramifications
> of the days questioning.
OOC: as long as he doesn't think it would alarm that guards (i.e. if he
can get away with it :-) he will cast Command Nightflyer, and try and
build up a picture of the area, and how Mearath is being held.
>
> As for Fellblade, he will be tried tonight at the arena. I believe
> the tickets are selling quickly. The Corinthian left you some though,
> so you may see the event, though I know not why he bothers with the
> murderer. You may collect them as you leave." The guard turns from
> the cells and walks out as a couple of the other guards open your
> cells. You see they are not pleased with the decision either.
Pean nods to the guard;
"This Corinthian - being new to the town, I am unaware of him. A Noble
or Adept of note?"
>
> Once you enter the main room of the guardhouse, you see the contents
> of your packs are laid out on the floor. Each item outside its normal
> container. The only thing still carefully wrapped is Rose's crystal
> battle axe. You turn to complain but find most of the guard has left
> and those that remain have their backs to you dealing with other
> issues that have arisen over night.
Pean's eyes narrow as he sees his precious Grimoire laid out. He
reminds himself to make its protections more.. effective in future. If
someone has opened it, or worse, taken advantage of it to weave threads
against him.. He focuses the sight granted to him by his Discipline on
his most precious possession, checking for other threads, or latent
magics. he is by no means the most accomplished spellcaster, and if he
could think of this..
Once he is sure no one has tempered with it, he stands for a moment,
making a visual check of his belongings, then picks up his grimoire,
leafs through some pages (purely for show, but likely only Temorya
would know that for sure..:-), picks one, then quietly intones a spell.
As the spell completes (He'll take his time, recasting if needed,
trying to make it look as if its all part of the spell), the air in the
room coalesces into a man shaped figure, then darkens, until it appears
as a man of Pean's height and build, wrapped around in a long cloak,
but slightly wispy at the edges.
"Carefully gather my belongings, pack them neatly, and bring them to me"
He commands, in a quiet but authoritative voice.
The apparition neatly re-packs all of Pean's belongings, and returns to
him, bearing a full pack and his staff. Pean stows his grimoire safely
away in the pack, and stows several items from the pack in the pockets
of his robe. He makes a small bow to the the figure;
"Thank you, you may return now, whence you came"
at this, the figure instantly loses cohesion, and starts to drift apart
into mist, dissipating quickly into the morning air.
Pean is left standing, his staff in the crook of his elbow, palms
facing one another, deep in concentration. A minute, or two passes,
before he chants again softly, and passes his hands over his robes and
bag.
(OOC: re-attune a matrix for Pocket Guardian, please, and cast it on
the pocket containing his money pouch and potion, then return the
matrix to its original contents)
Apparently satisfied, he turns to his companions;
"well, are we ready? Our hosts have given us leave to depart, it seems"
> The city bustles with an energy that few of you have experienced
> before. Nearly everything appears to be sold here and an air dock
> shows that there are many air galleons that bring their produce to
> this wealthy city. There are none of the homeless that litter places
> such as Bartertown for those of you who are well travelled, and the
> buildings are all made from refined materials which creates a strong
> contrast to the life of Bush Namur.
>
The merchant in Pean craves to explore the markets, to see what can be
bought from faraway lands. His Discipline calls to him, telling him of
the items he might find, to aid his Magic. His duty to his friends
overcomes this, but he makes a promise to himself to return, and spend
a day browsing at leisure. Noticing his companions stares, he moves
next to the less travelled ones from Bush Namur, and in a low voice,
points out the people and customs he has encountered in his travels.
It is a rare expansive moment for the elf, and for a moment, his fellow
city dwellers see his father in him, expounding on the history of an
item to an interested passer by.
Pean does make note of any shops or stalls selling anything magical, or
related.
> You arrive at the Oaken Staff and present yourselves to the Innkeep,
> a Troll named Tarpam. He nods when asked about Elklisee and tells you
> that she checked in earlier that morning and has paid for a room for
> each of you. She has left the inn though as she is talking to several
> merchants about supplies for you to continue your journey west.
> Tarpam mentions that seeing you are staying the night he could sell
> you tickets to the trial of the murderous fellblade at a mere 25 sp
> each. He withdraws quickly when he hears your replies, leaving you to
> your own devices.
Pean simply fixes his gaze upon the man, making eye contact, and
letting all the assumptions, misconceptions, and practicies of
nethermancy seep into his eyes.
OOC: frighten, please :-)
"You know nothing of what you speak. Leave us"
>
> Most of you take the time to bathe and lay down to sleep. The night
> in the cells leaving you weary, whilst others of you head out onto the
> streets to explore the city. Travar seems to be an oasis of culture
> that is opulently decorated with items from all over Barsaive and
> beyond. The merchants are well travelled and the populace of the city
> seem comfortable in their lives. Many adepts walk the streets amongst
> the normal guard keeping peace, contracted to the city through being
> champions at the Founding.
As night falls, Pean summons the bats and owns of the city, attempting
to locate Mearath again, and check on his health. He is aware that
those more practiced in his craft can uses these creatures to convey
messages, but he has not that art..yet. When he first learned his Art,
the wonder and power nearly overwhelmed him. Now, while the beauty of
the spirit world still awes him, he finds himself chafing at not being
able to replicate the feats of his teacher, or others of his Discipline
he has read about. There is so much to learn, and yet so much to do..
Reassured (hopefully) that Mearath is well, at least for now, he
conducts his karma ritual, the bitter tea soothing and relaxing, and
the quiet reflections of his spirit double on the differences between
this world and the next serving to center him, and remind him of the
happy years of his apprenticeship.
>
> Before too long night falls and you make your way along the streets to
> the arena. The structure is massive, taking up the space of a city
> block. An arena covered in sparse grass sits in the middle of a huge
> ring of seating, including private boxes for the more wealthy. The
> Founding is generally the major entertainment here though sporting
> events and other entertainment is held here while the Founding is over
> for the year. You move toward your alloted area and are surprised to
> find yourself moving to the boxed seats. You check your ticket again
> and find that you have seats in what looks like the boxed seat area in
> the centre front! Moving to the area, you find many servants bustling
> about with trays of drinks and silver platters laden with fruits,
> salted meats and pastries!
Pean exchanges glances with his companions, remarking wryly;
"This should be interesting. Anyone else kill anyone they don't
remember? Perhaps Mearath is heir to a great fortune, and forgot that,
too!"
>
> You are sure that you have been given the wrong allocation but the
> servants urge you forward. Standing at the rail of the boxed area is
> a figure that turns to regard you all. The figure is dressed all in
> black leathers with a large black jacket over the lot. He stands at
> least 7 foot and wears darkened eye glasses that block your view of
> his eyes. He appears human though is a slim as an elf and has shock
> white hair that is well tended and tied back into a foot long pony
> tail. He smiles at you all and in a deep voice says "Welcome. I am
> the Corinthian. Seat yourself. Rhys will soon be free."
>
OOC: If an attractive girl in goth makeup appears, Pean is SO out of
there...:-)
"Greetings, and our thanks for your hospitality. You must forgive my
rudeness, for I am new to the area, but I am unaware - is Corinthian
your rank, or title? I do not wish to give offense, especially when we
have been so well received"
OOC: astral sight please - its worth a try! :-)
> His voice is deep and calming. His words seem to carry some form of
> truth and for the first time today you feel a kind of hope. The sky
> darkens, yet the Corinthian does not take off his glasses and the
> lamps lit with oil and fire are reflected of the glasses lenses making
> him seem to have fire for eyes. As you go to ask questions you here
> the trial begin below. For the first time you are aware that the
> entire arena is full and as the trumpets begin to announce the start
> their are wild cries for the death of Fellblade from the crowd. Much
> rubbish is thrown, along with weapons that fall well short, or strike
> some form of invisible barrier.
"However this ends, it does not speak well for the people of Travar, I
feel"
murmurs Pean to whoever is closest.
> Surrounding the edge of the arena you see troops of the guard facing
> inward, each of them staring at Fellblade. You can almost hear them
> thinking on how they wished he would make a run for it so they could
> dispense with the formality and strike him down. The charges are read
> by one of the Dwarven Magistrates. The crowd in the arena fall silent
> as the readings are made. "Rhy Fellblade. You are hereby charged
> with murder of Elwyn Firegat, Merchant of Travar and Magistrate
> applicant. You are also charged with the murder of Sara Vash, wife of
> Zubert Vash the Third. Also the murder of Colan Vesper, Firth
> Thornkin and Trillian Sliver, all champions of the Founding. Your
> weapon was found in the chest of Sara Vash and your visage seen by all
> of the deceased on the night of the murders, as discovered by a
> Nethermancer of Travar who at the time of the murders was a member of
> the Body of Five. How plead you to these charges Rhys Fellblade?"
"The fools" murmurs Pean. "Appearance and identity are not one and the
same - how can they be so blind!"
>
> A hush so silent that you hear the dropping of an onion from one of
> the spectators over twenty yards from you falls over the crowd. As
> the magistrate asks the question he steps forward and removes the hod
> from Maerath's head and he blinks at the enormity of the situation.
> He looks at the Dwarf and you sense a change in him. As if he has
> gained some conviction since he was taken to the cells. "I have no
> memory of these actions for one reason. I am not the man who
> committed these crimes! I am innocent of all charges!" Maerath calls
> out at the top of his lungs and the Dwarven Magistrate nods smiling as
> if this had been expected. The crowd erupt into a mass of seething
> hate at hearing the words and many of them call down to the champions
> to cut him down now. You hear the Corinthian laugh and stand,
> stretching his arms outward taking in a deep breath. "It is almost
> time. They are so certain but soon he will be vindicated!"
>
"Aye? But his innocence may avail him naught, with this crowd. I fear
for justice, today."
> For two minutes there appears to be nothing happening as the crowd
> scream even louder for veangance. The Corinthian's excitement is also
> increased. He laughs allowed and calls out to the crowd "Know you not
> his innocence! You are blind to the truth and with the truth Rhys
> shall be set free!"
>
> Verity suddenly appears from a small gap in the cloth and moves to the
> portly human magistrate. She says something in his ear and he looks
> to her and asks something to which she speaks again. Quickly Verity
> then leaves the arena followed by the Ork guard close behind her. The
> portly human magistrate seems to move slowly toward the cloth
> and gives darting looks to all areas of the arena.
>
> His voice is quavering and breaks several times as he calls out
> "Mynbruje has spoken and the verdict is....." The cloth drops and as
> it does you see Maerath with his blade in hand standing open legged in
> a very confident stance with no mark on him. "Not guilty! May Garlen
> protect us all!" The human magistrate calls this out as he begins to
> run for the protecton of the exits. His companions are up with him as
> figures start to leap into the arena. They attempt to run straight at
> Maerath with weapons brandished. There was only one conclusion and
> even that had been taken away. Most of the spectators are still
> stunned though several start to attack the guards and other
> champions as they attempt to reach Maerath.
>
> "JUSTICE!" calls out the Corinthian laughing aloud......
"You're faith in the passions, is rewarded, it seems, Lenora! I will
make penance at the next temple of Mynbruje we come across!
And you, my lord, know much more than you are letting on.
Come my friends, we must do what we can. Let us provide safe passage
for Mearath, if we are able. Foruntatly, I have some spells that may
be of assistance"
He chants softly, and again, the mist shrouded form coalesces next to
him (hopefully :-).
"Walk beside me, and prevent any from touching me"
he says to the spirit, before walking purposefully forward towards
Mearath. Anyone who obstructs him, or attempts to attack him he will
either attempt to Frighten away, or cast Pain on, as appropriate. He
will attempt to keep up with, but not in front of, Garrot, using his
spells and talents as needed to aid the Obsidiman's passage, while not
neglecting his own defence.
>
> <Your moves one and all. Lets just say things are VOLATILE at the
> moment.
OOC: you think? ;-)
> Apologies for the long post.....>
Heh. likewise. I got caught up..:-)
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