• Warrant Procedures

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    November 25, 2012 /  Inquisitorial Methods
    Herein is the procedure to execute an arrest warrant with the approval of 
    the Holy Office:
    
       I. Gather Information
          Warrants are not to be issued without reasonable chance of a
          successful conclusion of the case. This means that the evidence
          available must be sufficient that the Inquisitor writing the
          warrant is content to take responsibility for the arrest. If it
          is likely that the accused will be released for lack of evidence,
          please do not even write the warrant in the first place. The
          accused is under suspicion at this time, and information such as
          the names of their associates, their behaviors and haunts should
          be being recorded.
    
          Note that any case may be audited by the Holy Office, and if so, an
          Inquisitor will be expected to have one or more of the following
          types of evidence to support a warrant:
    
             Physical Evidence - they've been seen casting magic
             Accusations       - from a respected member of the community
             Testimonials      - supporting evidence provided by non-
                                 accusers, best when unaware of an accusation
             Patterns          - known associations, behaviours strongly 
                                 associated magery or heresy, and the like
    
      II. Writing the Warrant
          For a warrant to be official, it must be copied, at minimum, to the
          following: The Grand Inquisitor, The Cardinal, the Earl Marshall, and
          the Grand Master. It is encouraged to include other, trusted members
          of the Holy Order as well as the Knights Lithmorran. Additionally, it
          must be written by the hand of an Inquisitor in good standing with
          the Holy Office. Warrants for nobles require the signature of the
          Grand Inquisitor or a High Inquisitor as do warrants for any 
          guildleader.
    
          A warrant should contain:
             A. the nature of the charges
             B. any information regarding the accused's appearance, 
             C. the accused's known haunts
             D. the perceived threat level and safety recommendations
             E. any pertinent comments the Knights may require
    
          It is not required to detail the evidence for the arrest request in
          the warrant document. However, if the Knights Lithmorran wish this
          information, it is appropriate to tell them unless it would
          endanger the investigation.
    
     III. Serving a Warrant
          Please ensure that the Knights Lithmorran and the Holy Office is 
          reasonably aware of the status of any case at all times by
          sending mail updates when information is gleaned from a prisoner
          or when a decision has been made. In the case of noble prisoners,
          guildleaders, and other high ranking personages, the signature of
          the Grand Inquisitor is required to initiate a cleansing,
          branding, maiming, etc. The use of torture is pre-authorized,
          provided Inquisitorial Methods are followed as opposed to self-
          indulgent behaviors.
  • The Inquisition of Lirems Greson

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    November 25, 2012 /  Inquisitions, Logs

    Someone tries to open the upper door.
    The bolt in the upper door slides open.
    The upper door is opened from the other side.
    Someone descends with the accompanyment of two knights, faceless in the dark.

    Lirems tries to look around through the dark at the footsteps and noise from above.

    The knights gather the restraints and bodily pick the prisioner up. [someone]

    Lirems tries to gargle something through his gag as he is grabbed from his sitting position.

    Someone leaves the vicinity, at a tranquil pace.
    You slowly fumble around in the darkness.
    You slowly fumble around in the darkness.
    You slowly fumble around in the darkness.
    You leave up.
    You come to a halt.

    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    [ Exits: -north- -east- -south- -west- down ]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova is here. [App: 3]

    “Put him in a cell, remove his gag,” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova commands the knights. “Someone must have been very angry at your betrayal to throw you in the deep, Squire.” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Lirems tries to shield his eyes at the light, squinting his eyes.

    Summarily, Lirems’s gag is removed, and he is shoved, still chained, into a cell. [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Lirems continueing to shield his eyes by squinting, “Diads da dsi dravr var dsid var”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova leans against a support column in the room, “I’m afraid I don’t speak that tongue, boy. Make it Lithmorran, or you’re wasting your breath.”

    Lirems opens his eyes fully as he glares at Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova “Death to the crown and all who continue this war on the border.”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova studies her nails, “Ahh, I see. Daravi spy, are you? Pity you didn’t last long. Are you hungry?” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova appears completely relaxed, as is speaking about something as commonplace as the weather.

    Lirems smirks a little at jenifyr’s words “Depends, do I get pants with that food to cover myself?”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova looks Lirems over, a lingering glance, then says with amusement, “Very well.” She nods to one of the knights, who bows and exits the cells to retrieve the requested items.

    Lirems watches Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova with a keen stare “So why do you bring me out of the deep?”

    [Action: Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova stands outside the cell Lirems is in, leaning against a support column.]

    “To question you, of course,” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova responds calmly. [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Lirems takes a step closer to the locked door “Question me of what?”

    “What shall I do with this, Inquisitor?” a heavyset, attentive guard asks of Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova, holding a small armful of clothing.

    “Why did you attempt to free mal Renarde?” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova repeats, holding out her hands to take the clothing from the guard. “Where’s the gruel? Fetch the porridge too, man.” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    A heavyset, attentive guard gives a voluminous cloak of soft woven fabric made without a hood to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova.

    A heavyset, attentive guard nods and heads off again.

    Lirems chuckles “Because he was to be executed as an example of the New Justicar show of power. No true purpose. Just as the Crown continues to command our deaths on the border.”

    Meanwhile, Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova walks over to the bars and drops the cloak between two of them, “Looks like pants aren’t available. So it’s all about the Crown? Hmm. What other mages do you know?” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova drops a voluminous cloak of soft woven fabric made without a hood.

    The bolt in the southern door slides open.
    The southern door is opened from the other side.
    Entonie ab Belleford arrives from the south.
    Entonie ab Belleford slows to a halt.

    Entonie ab Belleford closes the southern door.
    Entonie ab Belleford locks the southern door.

    Lirems continues to stare at Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova “You should know you wrote his death warrant. He hexed a child. He deserves death.”

    [Action: Entonie ab Belleford stands near the southern door with a hand on his sword.]

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova turns to Entonie ab Belleford, “Grand master, it’s good to see you.” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova inclines her head deeply.

    Entonie ab Belleford dips his head politely. “Your Grace.” He responds. He frowns deeply with a great look of disappointment as he views Lirems.

    Lirems turns his gaze from Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova to Entonie ab Belleford before saying a couple words. “Diads da iav dsarr dari vrvriadardri.”

    A heavyset, attentive guard bears a bowl of gruel as he returns again, offering it out to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova seriously.

    A heavyset, attentive guard gives a bowl of unseasoned, watery gruel to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova accepts the bowl, moving back to the bars. She carefully transfers the bowl to her left hand, kneels, and slides it through the bars also. “There you are. Please, make yourself more comfortable whilst we talk.”

    Lirems continues to stand with his hands restrained behind his back “Perhaps moving the manacles to my front so i can eat?”

    [aCTION: Lirems standing here near the cell door, hands manacled behind his back.]

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova stands outside the cell Lirems is in, leaning against a support column. [App: 3]

    Entonie ab Belleford stands near the southern door with a hand on his sword.
    A full head of dark, silky hair top this fair-skinned young man’s head.
    His face is accented by a rosy hue on the cheeks, highlighting hid
    prominent and high cheekbones. A sharp chin points downward while his nose
    is slightly upturned. He is of average height and slender, giving him a
    slightly gangly appearance. His movements, even subtle ones, are graceful
    and slightly feminine.
    You are two and a half hands taller than he is.

    Entonie ab Belleford is using:
    a roughly dipped tallow candle with a thick twine wick(off)
    an open-faced helmet with a large yellow plume from the top
    a solid iron gorget cinched with a topaz broach at the neck
    a feminine yellow suede reticule boasting sparkling citrine
    long iron chain sleeves ending with white ruffled silk cuff
    set of sleek iron gauntlets baring yellow and white ribbons
    a sword (sheathed on the hip)
    a solid, polished iron breastplate marked with yellow crest
    a thick, iron-reinforced belt with yellow and white pouches
    a pair of loose iron-ringed leggings laced with yellow cord
    bulky iron boots made with yellow and white cotton paddings

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova has lost link.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova has reconnected.

    “Sir Belleford, would you care to enter the cell, throw that cloak about our prisioner, and feed him this gruel?” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova asks, offering Entonie ab Belleford the bowl. “I suspect that if he were to attempt anything, you are better equipped to defend yourself than I.” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Entonie ab Belleford clears his throat and nods. He slowly approaches the cell, opens the door with whatever mechanism and key might be involved… He closes it behind him to ensure it is secure before picking up the cloak and gently draping it around Lirems’s shoulders. His mouth purses and the edges of his lips whiten. “Do you care to eat, Mister Greson?”

    Lirems takes a step back as the cloak is drapped around him before retaking that step and jumping into the air trying to land a solid drop kick into Entonie ab Belleford’s chest. [Attack]
    You miss Entonie ab Belleford!
    Entonie ab Belleford looks to be in excellent condition.

    Entonie ab Belleford bares his sword.
    Entonie ab Belleford shakes his head sadly as he sidesteps the kick.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova gestures the guard and two knights to the main chamber doors, “Guard that door!” She reaches for the cell key, opening it and stepping inside as Entonie ab Belleford and Lirems scuffle.

    Lirems lands hard on his back, groaning a little before rolling away from Entonie ab Belleford, leaving the cloak on the ground between him and the man. [Defense]

    Entonie ab Belleford takes a step to the east.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova wields a graceful scalpel with a finely pointed tip.

    Lirems keeps the cloak between himself and Entonie ab Belleford, glancing to the slide at Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova as she enters as well. [Defense]

    Entonie ab Belleford raises his sword high and brings the full weight of the pommel down towards the top of Lirems’s head. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford misses you! You are in excellent condition.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova closes the cell door behind her and locks it, after advancing inside.

    Lirems steps inside Entonie ab Belleford’s pommel strike, trying to drive his foot into the back of the man’s leg and cause him to fall. [Attack]
    Your hit glances off Entonie ab Belleford’s legs!
    Entonie ab Belleford has some minor scratches.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova takes a step to the west.

    Entonie ab Belleford stumbles slightly, but remains upright enough to swing his sword horizontally, slashing towards Lirems’s face. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford’s hit glances off your head! You have some minor scratches.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova pulls out a dagger.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova slashes calmly at Lirems as she finally engages him. [Attack]
    You stop following Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s hit glances off your head! You have some minor scratches.

    Lirems tilts his head away just enough to barely get sliced by Entonie ab Belleford’s sword but moves it to much as jen slashes the other side of his face, grimacing as he almost backs into the cell wall. [Defense]

    Entonie ab Belleford attempts to drive the tip of his sword directly towards Lirems stomach. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford’s hit glances off your body! You are lightly wounded.

    Lirems sucks his gut in and archs his side at the last moment as he blade cuts his side, letting out a loud scream as he tries to kick Entonie ab Belleford’s knee sideways In an attempt to break it. [Attack]
    Your hit glances off Entonie ab Belleford’s legs!
    Entonie ab Belleford has some minor scratches.

    “Throw your keys out of the cell,” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova orders Entonie ab Belleford, doing the same, then attempting to subdue Lirems with a slash and a demand, “Cease, or die here and now.”[Attack] Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s hit glances off your body! You are lightly wounded.

    Entonie ab Belleford is hit in the kneecap, but no serious damage is done beyond bruising and a wince on his face. He glances over to jenifyr and says “Perhaps we should consider tying our prisoners to the wall.” He grits his teeth and swings his sword fiercely above Lirems’s head, driving the blade edge downward. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford’s hit glances off your head! You appear to be hurt.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova throws her keys out of the cell with a flick of her wrist, landing easily out of reach.

    Lirems clearly looses a piece of flesh from his forehead as Entonie ab Belleford’s sword barely connect before grimacing and moving the other way as Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s scaple slices right into his side. trying another attempt at kicking Entonie ab Belleford’s knee with his heel, in another attempt to break the thing. blood clearly oozing down this mans body. [Attack]
    Your hit glances off Entonie ab Belleford’s legs!
    Entonie ab Belleford has some minor scratches.

    Entonie ab Belleford inhales sharply as his leg is struck but spins to toss the ring of keys out of the cell towards the guardsman and uses the same body momentum to spin 360 degrees around, slashing horizontally towards Lirems’s head. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford’s hit glances off your head! You appear to be hurt.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova rejoins the fight with a tranquil, almost surgical strike to Lirems’s face, aiming for the eyes to blind, “Noted,” she replies to Entonie ab Belleford about wall shackling. [Attack]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s hit glances off your head! You have been wounded.

    Lirems drops to his knees as the keys are discarded from the cell, his head lowering at his failed attempt. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Entonie ab Belleford grins over to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova before taking the chance to attempt to pummel Lirems’s head once more with the pommel of his sword. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford hits your head! You look badly injured.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova doesn’t appear to care about the belated surrender… it just makes it easier to stab him. [Attack]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova hits your head! You have been mauled.

    Lirems falls over as Entonie ab Belleford pommel’s his head and then twitches as Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova stabs him, blood pooling around the man’s body. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Entonie ab Belleford raises his sword pommel again, but hesitating to bring it down. “I trusted you, you filthy, disgusting bastard!” he screams, face nearly breaking sumptuary laws by turning a lovely shade of purple. In a flick of the wrist, he attempts to drive the steel handle down on Lirems’s skull. [Attack]
    Entonie ab Belleford hits your head! You look pretty mangled.

    Lirems head gets bounced off the ground as Entonie ab Belleford pommel strike him. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova , by contrast, is calm and efficient in her assistance of her enraged ally, slashing with little effect, but still doing so. [Attack]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova hits your body! You look pretty mangled.

    Entonie ab Belleford takes a step back, sheathing his sword. “Lucky you need to make it to the flame alive…” [Disengage]
    Entonie ab Belleford fails to disengage immediately.

    Lirems laying on the ground as more and more blood pools around him at his current beating. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova appears deaf to pleas and uncaring for mercy, still slashing Lirems [Attack]
    You sure are BLEEDING!
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova hits your body! You appear to be crippled from your injuries.

    Lirems makes a very poor attempt to crawl away from Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s current stabbing. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Entonie ab Belleford makes no attempt to stop Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova. He merely stands back and watches.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova have shifted from lethal to less so, but she still strikes, cutting to cause bleeding instead, “Ring the bells,” she orders the guards as she cuts Lirems again, “He must be burned quickly begore he bleeds out.” [Attack]
    You sure are BLEEDING!
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova hits your body! You are impaired by your injuries.

    Lirems just falls motionless as Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova cuts him again and again with no end in sight. [Surrender]
    You fail to surrender immediately.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova sends an acolyte off to the belltower to ring the bells.
    With a deep resounding tone, the church bells across the land sound all the faithful to River Square for a burning.

    Entonie ab Belleford looks over to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova. “Do you have any water or anything? I am quite thirsty.”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova states, “No, I’m sorry.”

    Entonie ab Belleford shakes his head with a smile. “I can wait, I am sure. Perhaps I will begin salivating from the scent or roasted swine.” He points a thumb at the unconscious form.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova gestures for the guards to assist her and Entonie ab Belleford with Lirems, “Let’s get him to the pyre.”

    Entonie ab Belleford keeps a hand on his sword, ready to draw at any moment.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova smiles slightly at Entonie ab Belleford’s joke as her cell keys are handed back, and she steps out of the way for the guards to pick up and carry Lirems.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova smiles slightly at Entonie’s joke as her cell keys are handed back, and she steps out of the way for the guards to pick up and carry Squire Lirems Greson.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova unlocks the southern door.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova begins to move south.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova crosses the center of the room.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova opens the southern door.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova leaves south, covered in blood and followed by guards carrying the mangled form of Squire Lirems Greson.

    River Square
    [Freezing, cloudy, heavy breeze from the west, morning]
    The gently curving path of the River Bren takes a sharp turn south here,
    running nigh-perpendicular to Church Street. An island rises from the
    center of the broad waterway, connected to the road by arching stone bridges
    on either side. It has been paved with square flagstones that fit together
    snugly, kept clean and bare of greenery. In the center of this rectangular
    plaza, Ahalin Tower rises in a smooth cylinder toward the sky, casting a
    long shadow. Oil-burning wicker torches on slender posts frame the area,
    microcosms of the blazes for which River Square is known.

    [ Exits: north east south west up ]
    The limbless torso of a Vavardian man Is skewered on a makeshift pike for all of the Square to see. The lifeless eyes of the former Justiciar gaping outwards. (western edge)
    Wooden post torches ring the square, lighting it at night. (northwestern corner) (lit)
    A thick wooden post blackened by fire proudly points to the sky. (northwestern corner)
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova is here. [App: 3]
    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair is here. [App: 5]
    A round-figured red-lipped brunette is here. [App: 4]
    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair is here, riding a hulking Charalin palfrey. [App: 3]
    A very large gray wolf with black undertone
    Dagerian is here, riding a sleek, black Charalin mustang with ripping muscles. [App: 4]
    A petite stallion with a cream-colored coat stands here.
    A burly Vandagan guard with coal black hair and bright eyes stands close to his mistress.
    A tiny puppy with curly, caramel-colored fur frolics throughout the area.
    A doe-eyed puppy with velvety chocolate fur lounges comfortably at his master’s feet
    Lady von Eclen is here. [App: 4]
    Ronove is here. [App: 1]
    A battle half-ass clad in decorated leather armor idly saunters about nibbling on rocks
    Esquire Loken Ronthe is here. [App: 2]
    A lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair is here. [App: 3]
    A majestic Daravi warhorse with dark bay coloring stands here.
    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica is here. [App: 2]
    A rather large, war bred white Daravi stallion is here.Sir de Laerne is here. [App: 4]
    Gwenith le Steppes is here. [App: 3]
    A bay palfrey with a white blaze is here.
    Baron Orban is standing near the pyre, expression remote. [App: 5]
    A muscular white Charali pacer
    A lily-white Daravi Warhorse with a brightly braided and tassled mane has been tethered here.
    A massive Farin warhorse with a long ebony mane is pawing at the ground here.
    Squire Lirems Greson limps in from above,being dragged by his manacles unconsious and blood flowing from all over his body..

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair easily dismounts from a hulking Charalin palfrey.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova closes the upper door.
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova locks the upper door.

    [Action: a pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair is along the edge of the crowd, standing near dag.]
    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair pulls closed her cloak, hiding her garments.

    A neutral expression is on Esquire Loken Ronthe’s face as his eyes lock with the former Justiciar’s body parts. The only thing coming from him is a single, sharp sniff of the nose. As he glances aside, he waves a slight young lass with long, curled red hair over closer to him. [Esquire Loken Ronthe]

    “A trainee night,” Sir de Laerne rumbles, still sounding sour.

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette sets teeth heavily closed, rousing her chin a touch as she makes her way to a stand further forward in the crowd.
    A round-figured red-lipped brunette starts to move towards the north and west.

    “A trainee knight,” Sir de Laerne rumbles, echoes, still sounding sour.

    Dagerian swings his leg over his mount, preparing to dismount.

    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair walks into the square, joining the jostling crowd. At Esquire Loken Ronthe’s gesture, she quickens her steps through it, soon approaching his side.

    Dagerian easily dismounts from a sleek, black Charalin mustang with ripping muscles.

    A lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair gasps a bit as the prisoner is brought ought, whispering over to Baron Orban, “Oh! It’s him? I met him once!”

    Lady von Eclen steps into the square, escorted by baggs. She releases his arm as soon as they stop, and smiles to a lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair. “Yes, fine!”

    [Action: a round-figured red-lipped brunette watche the proceedings with a set jaw.]

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova nods to the guards, who carry the unconcious form of Squire Lirems Greson to the pyre to chain him to it.

    [Action: a round-figured red-lipped brunette watches the proceedings with a set jaw.]

    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica raises her eyebrows at the state of Squire Lirems Greson and looks to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova curiously.

    Ailyn Magnate rides in from the west.
    A sleek, reddish-hued dog with a black muzzle has arrived.
    Ailyn Magnate slows to a halt.

    Esquire Loken Ronthe at Squire Lirems Greson’s bloody form, he shakes his head, uncurling his arm from Lady von Eclen’s to touch the back of a slight young lass with long, curled red hair’s arm as she nears. “Lirems was a mage…” he murmurs to her in distaste, eyes never leaving the man’s broken form.

    At Squire Lirems Greson’s bloody form, Esquire Loken Ronthe shakes his head, uncurling his arm from Lady von Eclen’s to touch the back of a slight young lass with long, curled red hair’s arm as she nears. “Lirems was a mage…” he murmurs to her in distaste, eyes never leaving the man’s broken form. (fix) [Esquire Loken Ronthe]

    [Action: Entonie stands next to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova, blood covering his armor, sword and exposed skin.]

    [Action: Esquire Loken Ronthe stands next to a slight young lass with long, curled red hair at the back of the gathered crowd, eyes set on lirems]

    Ailyn Magnate puts her weight on one stirrup and swings her leg over a dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail.
    Ailyn Magnate skillfully dismounts from a dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail.

    “Seem him a time or two, but little more,” Baron Orban confesses to a lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair at a murmur. His brows have gone up as well at the sight of the near-corpse, but he doesn’t comment further. [Baron Orban]

    “Good Davites,” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova begins, gesturing with the sign of the chalice, “We have here a Daravi spy, and a mage of fire who confessed, before attacking myself and the grand master, to coming here to assassinate the Queen and topple the throne.” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Ailyn Magnate moves through the crowd towards a pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair and Dagerian, eyeing the scene with a grim expression as she weaves through the outskirts of the crowd.

    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair swallows quickly at the sight of the corpse, her cheeks noticably paling beneath the splatter of dun freckles across them. She makes a strong attempt at not looking directly at it, instead focusing on her shoes.

    “He is not a Daravi spy!” Sir de Laerne abruptly bellows over the Square, suddenly pushing through the crowd, shaking his head, his expressionless features breaking.

    “But you don’t ever think that they’re like.. all around us!” a lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair confesses in hushed yet animated tones to Baron Orban. “And pages! I mean, Mother said that mages are everywhere in the city, but-” She falls off at that, gasping quietly, “A Daravi!”

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette jerks a sharp look to Sir de Laerne, eyes widening.

    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica shakes her head, cursing under her breath as she follows in Sir de Laerne’s obvious wake.

    “I know that they’re all around us,” Baron Orban tells a lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair simply; at Sir de Laerne’s outburst, he grimaces and steps forward in the man’s wake as well, though not very far or fast. [Baron Orban]

    Entonie scans the audience as things become slightly chaotic. His grip remains firm on his sword as he stands next to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova.

    Lady von Eclen shakes her head once, watching silently as she heads the dismay.

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair curses under her breath as Sir de Laerne storms the stage, lifting up on the balls of her feet to see over the crowd at what is happening. Given her height, this is not too difficult. She casts a distracted glance over at Ailyn Magnate, nodding to her in greeting.

    “But in mercy,” Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova continues, “We shall save his soul…” she pauses at Sir de Laerne’s intereferance, calmly meeting the latter’s eyes. “He told me he was, with his own words, and spoke Daravi to prove it. He told me ‘Death to the Crown’ anf translated it when I said I didn’t know his snake tongue.” She appears unconcerned as she addresses the crowd again, “Let us pray for his soul.” [Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova]

    Dagerian watches as those gathered are sort of barrelled to the side when Sir de Laerne begins his path towards thebpyre area.

    “This man is a pretender. A mage, yes, but a Daravi spy?” Sir de Laerne barks out loudly, stepping onto the pyre, though making no effort to free Squire Lirems Greson. “That he is not. He doesn’t speak a single word of Daravi. He babbles. Does he admire the Daravi? Aye, I wager he does. But he is no spy. I’ve read his journal. I’ve heard him speak his mockery of their tongue. I hold no love for them, but he is no spy. Just a shame to the people of Farin, and a shame to the Knights.”

    A lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair blinks a bit in confusion, eyes moving from Sir de Laerne to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova to lirem and back to Baron Orban.

    “de Laerne, I don’t imagine it matters. He’s dying as a mage, not as a spy,” Baron Orban calls up to Sir de Laerne, shaking his head. “Best let it be over with, aye?” [Baron Orban]

    Squire Lirems Greson lays motionless wherever he was placed upon reaching the square.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova asks Sir de Laerne mildly, “Would you care to light the pyre, my Lord? If not, please step down. He has lost a lot of blood, and we have the Lord’s work to do.”

    Lady von Eclen nods in agreement to what Baron Orban says. “I agree. It doesn’t matter his heritage, or his intent. He is a -mage-, and we need to burn him in any case.”

    Entonie sighs tiredly as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. This leaves to fingerprints of blood on his face…

    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair reaches out to take hold of Esquire Loken Ronthe’s arm next to her, bare fingers curling in and her grip tightening as the events start to play out before the crowd.

    A chatty passer-by replies to a bit of gossip, “So there is yet another Charali roaming about, this one male. He looks like his bite is bigger than his bark too, unlike most of the savages around here. “.

    [Action: a slight young lass with long, curled red hair stands next to Esquire Loken Ronthe, holding his arm]

    Esquire Loken Ronthe just shakes his head a battered and nicked wooden chalice pendant on teal ribbon swaying as a result of the movement. At the touch of a slight young lass with long, curled red hair’s fingers against his arm, he visibly relaxes, offering her a faint smile, which fades as he casts his eyes on Squire Lirems Greson once again.

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette visibly winces, raising an immaculately gloved hand to flick some brown curl off her forehead. A discreet scowl throws to some peasant who brushes against her silks as he presses nearer to the front of the throng.

    “The people and the Church need to know the truth. They don’t need some false fear that a Daravi spy was among them,” Sir de Laerne rumbles, irritable as ever. “I do think it matters.” Still, Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova’s words to the giant make him step off the Pyre, but he doesn’t look pleased at all.

    Dagerian peers over at a pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair a moment, confused. “Ouchi dheidh dhchi Liraiedh Leouldheil bidheli elliiraidh?” Though when Sir de Laerne explains he nods. “Leou i dhii.”

    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica frowns from where she is standing behind Sir de Laerne, but she does say, “Inquisitor, if Sir de Laerne says the boy was not a spy, then I believe his words. But he is still a mage, so kindly get on with it before we have someone try to free him.” The last him is given a gesture at Squire Lirems Greson.

    Baron Orban steps back to his previous place among the crowd once Sir de Laerne steps down, evidently not interested in saying anything else. He’s frowning, faintly.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova purses her lips, then raises her hands to the crowd, trying again, “Let us pray.”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova moves Squire Lirems Greson to the pole.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova secures Squire Lirems Greson’s hands to the pole with a length of chain.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova opens a flask of oil and spreads it around the bottom of the pole.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova lights a crude torch, holding it at shoulder height, and makes the sign of the Chalice.

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair just nods slowly as Dagerian gains the understanding, letting out a frustrated sounding sigh. She crosses her arms loosely, continuing to watch the burning.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova casts the torch onto the base of the pyre. The oil ignites immediately.

    Flames lick at the base of Squire Lirems Greson’s feet.

    Lady von Eclen watches, her form shaking ever so slightly and her lip quivering at the sight. Her violet eyes are rather wide, but not hugely so, and she remains silent.

    Squire Lirems Greson head hangs as he tied to the pole and the pyre lite.

    Rising higher, the flames encompass Squire Lirems Greson. The smell of burning flesh permeates the air.

    Gwenith le Steppes shudders beneath her a silvery-black hooded silk cloak with etched in embroidery, pulling the fabric tighter around her shoulders as she huddles beneath it, watching Squire Lirems Greson her face paling.

    Squire Lirems Greson writhes in the flames.
    Squire Lirems Greson writhes in the flames.
    Squire Lirems Greson writhes in the flames.
    Squire Lirems Greson writhes in the flames.

    Baron Orban watches the burning calmly, his arms folding together behind his back. There is, perhaps, the slightest shake of his dark head.

    Squire Lirems Greson writhes in the flames.

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette’s painted lips rumple while she chalices herself, dark brows arching high.

    Completely engulfing Squire Lirems Greson, the flames burn him to cinders.

    Sir de Laerne chalices himself as well, as the flames swallow the man, his head bowing, whispered words spoken under his breath.

    A bit of lacy cloth is plucked from underneath a round-figured red-lipped brunette’s cloak and promptly raised to cover her nostrils. [a round-figured red-lipped brunette]

    Esquire Loken Ronthe bows his head as the man is engulfed in the flame, making a small sign of the chalice in front of his face. “And there it is… we burn the heretic, we purge the unclean. This is our duty, our charge,” he whispers to himself.

    Baron Orban frees one hand to rest it over his nose, brows furrowing and nostrils crinkling. A sharp sigh escapes him.

    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair avoids looking directly at the pyre and the burnt form of the man. She swallows sharply, several times over, her head turning in against her shoulder to obscure the scent of burned flesh.

    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica makes the sign of the chalice at the pyre and she glances at Sir de Laerne after the boy is dead.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova watches the fire burn out, then makes the sign of the Chalice. Then, stepping from the pyre, makes a perfunctory gesture to Sir de Laerne, “Let’s talk.” to the crowd, “Thank you, faithful, for helping this soul. You may go.”
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova questions to Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica, “Your Holiness, if you would join us?”

    Ronove furrows his brow in thought, mentally planning.
    Ronove begins to move west.
    Ronove leaves west.

    River Square
    [Freezing, dark clouds, strong winds from the northwest, morning]
    The gently curving path of the River Bren takes a sharp turn south here,
    running nigh-perpendicular to Church Street. An island rises from the
    center of the broad waterway, connected to the road by arching stone bridges
    on either side. It has been paved with square flagstones that fit together
    snugly, kept clean and bare of greenery. In the center of this rectangular
    plaza, Ahalin Tower rises in a smooth cylinder toward the sky, casting a
    long shadow. Oil-burning wicker torches on slender posts frame the area,
    microcosms of the blazes for which River Square is known.

    [ Exits: north east south west -up- ]
    The corpse of a Farin man is lying here. (western edge)
    The limbless torso of a Vavardian man Is skewered on a makeshift pike for all of the Square to see. The lifeless eyes of the former Justiciar gaping outwards. (western edge)
    Wooden post torches ring the square, lighting it at night. (northwestern corner) (lit)
    A thick wooden post blackened by fire proudly points to the sky. (northwestern corner)
    A dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail waits here.
    A sleek, reddish-hued dog with a black muzzle is here.
    Ailyn Magnate is here. [App: 3]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova is here. [App: 3]
    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair stands next to Esquire Loken Ronthe, holding his arm [App: 5]
    A round-figured red-lipped brunette watches the proceedings with a set jaw. [App: 4]
    A hulking Charalin palfrey is standing here.
    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair is along the edge of the crowd, standing near Dagerian. [App: 3]
    A sleek, black Charalin mustang with ripping muscles
    A very large gray wolf with black undertone
    Dagerian is here. [App: 4]
    A petite stallion with a cream-colored coat stands here.
    A burly Vandagan guard with coal black hair and bright eyes stands close to his mistress.
    A tiny puppy with curly, caramel-colored fur frolics throughout the area.
    A doe-eyed puppy with velvety chocolate fur lounges comfortably at his master’s feet
    Lady von Eclen is here. [App: 4]
    A battle half-ass clad in decorated leather armor idly saunters about nibbling on rocks
    Esquire Loken Ronthe stands next to a slight young lass with long, curled red hair at the back of the gathered crowd, eyes set on lirems [App: 2]
    A lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair is here. [App: 3]
    A majestic Daravi warhorse with dark bay coloring stands here.
    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica is here. [App: 2]
    A rather large, war bred white Daravi stallion is here.Sir de Laerne is here. [App: 4]
    Gwenith le Steppes is here. [App: 3]
    A bay palfrey with a white blaze is here.
    Baron Orban is standing near the pyre, expression remote. [App: 5]
    A muscular white Charali pacer
    A lily-white Daravi Warhorse with a brightly braided and tassled mane has been tethered here.
    A massive Farin warhorse with a long ebony mane is pawing at the ground here.
    the corpse of a Farin man holds:
    Nothing.

    “I’ll bury the boy. We can talk at the Cathedral, if that is your wish, Mother,” Sir de Laerne rumbles, stepping atop the pyre once more and slipping a long curved dagger with an ivory hilt and dark iron blade from a thick black cloak of bear fur with gold and crimson trim as he heads for the charred remains.

    Baron Orban chalices himself with his other hand, then turns to his horse to gather up the reins in solemn silence.

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova claims to Sir de Laerne, “Leave that to the Grand Master.”

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova claims to Sir de Laerne, “We need to talk.”

    [RPxp: mediocre] [HP:perfect MV:weary P:walk] (action) Drawn (Diremote)
    River Square
    [Freezing, dark clouds, strong winds from the northwest, morning]
    The gently curving path of the River Bren takes a sharp turn south here,
    running nigh-perpendicular to Church Street. An island rises from the
    center of the broad waterway, connected to the road by arching stone bridges
    on either side. It has been paved with square flagstones that fit together
    snugly, kept clean and bare of greenery. In the center of this rectangular
    plaza, Ahalin Tower rises in a smooth cylinder toward the sky, casting a
    long shadow. Oil-burning wicker torches on slender posts frame the area,
    microcosms of the blazes for which River Square is known.

    [ Exits: north east south west -up- ]
    The corpse of a Farin man is lying here. (western edge)
    The limbless torso of a Vavardian man Is skewered on a makeshift pike for all of the Square to see. The lifeless eyes of the former Justiciar gaping outwards. (western edge)
    Wooden post torches ring the square, lighting it at night. (northwestern corner) (lit)
    A thick wooden post blackened by fire proudly points to the sky. (northwestern corner)
    A dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail waits here.
    A sleek, reddish-hued dog with a black muzzle is here.
    Ailyn Magnate is here. [App: 3]
    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova is here. [App: 3]
    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair stands next to Esquire Loken Ronthe, holding his arm [App: 5]
    A round-figured red-lipped brunette watches the proceedings with a set jaw. [App: 4]
    A hulking Charalin palfrey is standing here.
    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair is along the edge of the crowd, standing near Dagerian. [App: 3]
    A sleek, black Charalin mustang with ripping muscles
    A very large gray wolf with black undertone
    Dagerian is here. [App: 4]
    A petite stallion with a cream-colored coat stands here.
    A burly Vandagan guard with coal black hair and bright eyes stands close to his mistress.
    A tiny puppy with curly, caramel-colored fur frolics throughout the area.
    A doe-eyed puppy with velvety chocolate fur lounges comfortably at his master’s feet
    Lady von Eclen is here. [App: 4]
    A battle half-ass clad in decorated leather armor idly saunters about nibbling on rocks
    Esquire Loken Ronthe stands next to a slight young lass with long, curled red hair at the back of the gathered crowd, eyes set on lirems [App: 2]
    A lithe teenaged girl with wavy ebon hair is here. [App: 3]
    A majestic Daravi warhorse with dark bay coloring stands here.
    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica is here. [App: 2]
    A rather large, war bred white Daravi stallion is here.Sir de Laerne is here. [App: 4]
    Gwenith le Steppes is here. [App: 3]
    A bay palfrey with a white blaze is here.
    Baron Orban is standing near the pyre, expression remote. [App: 5]
    A muscular white Charali pacer
    A lily-white Daravi Warhorse with a brightly braided and tassled mane has been tethered here.
    A massive Farin warhorse with a long ebony mane is pawing at the ground here.

    Ailyn Magnate leaves the square quietly, leading a dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail as she shoulders through the lingering crowds.

    After a murmured prayer, a round-figured red-lipped brunette turns on a heel to vacate the square. A quick scan passes over the dissolving crowd, picking out a few varied faces. [a round-figured red-lipped brunette]

    Ailyn Magnate furrows her brow in thought, mentally planning.
    Ailyn Magnate begins to move west.

    Lady von Eclen chalices herself, looking a bit pale in the cheeks. She leans against a burly Vandagan guard with coal black hair and bright eyes for a moment, the turns to leave.

    Ailyn Magnate leaves west.
    A sleek, reddish-hued dog with a black muzzle leaves west.
    A dapple grey Charali mare with a white mane and tail leaves west.

    “Smells like pork…” Gwenith le Steppes whispers absently to herself. The woman shakes her head, dismissing the thought before hurrying away from the scene [Gwenith le Steppes]

    Entonie’s lip twitches faintly but he dips his head politely to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova.

    Her Holiness, Cardinal Trenica nods to Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova as she moves to follow.

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette begins to move west.

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair, like many in the square, makes the sign of the chalice, glancing over at Dagerian and asking, “Ouchedh leou?”

    A round-figured red-lipped brunette leaves west.

    Gwenith le Steppes furrows her brow in thought, mentally planning.
    Gwenith le Steppes begins to move west.
    Gwenith le Steppes leaves west.

    Baron Orban reaches up to his mount’s saddle, preparing to mount.

    Lady von Eclen furrows her brow in thought, mentally planning.
    Lady von Eclen begins to move west.

    Baron Orban easily mounts a bay palfrey with a white blaze.

    Entonie sheathes his sword.

    Lady von Eclen leaves west.
    A doe-eyed puppy with velvety chocolate fur leaves west.
    A tiny puppy with curly, caramel-colored fur leaves west.
    A burly Vandagan guard with coal black hair and bright eyes leaves west.
    A petite stallion with a cream-colored coat leaves west.

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair reaches up to her mount’s saddle, preparing to mount.

    A pale aquiline woman with a mass of fiery hair easily mounts a hulking Charalin palfrey.

    Dagerian swings his leg over his mount.

    Dagerian easily mounts a sleek, black Charalin mustang with ripping muscles.

    “Is there anything you need from me before I take my leave, Sir ab Belleford,” Esquire Loken Ronthe calls out questioningly from the square, twisting his body to avoid being bumped by the leaving individuals. [Esquire Loken Ronthe]

    “An unmarked grave was the protocol when I was in command, Grand Master,” Sir de Laerne rumbles dryly, slipping knife away. “Sun and Moon guide you.” He salutes Entonie, before moving after Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova

    “I’ve always thought someone who’s been cleansed should at least get to keep their name, as they’ve been redeemed.” Baron Orban says it quietly, to no one in particular. [Baron Orban]

    Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova inclines her head in gratitude to Sir de Laerne when he follows her, then addresses Entonie, “Sir, we will be in the meeting room when you are free to join us.”

    Entonie moves towards Esquire Loken Ronthe and shakes his head. He looks very tired. He dips his head in understanding to Sir de Laerne and returns the salute. “Esquire, you are dismissed. I would recommend taking the evening off and enjoying the componany of others.”

    A slight young lass with long, curled red hair glances briefly over towards Baron Orban as he speaks and in doing so, her eyes pass over the burned form of the corpse. She quickly brings her hand up to her mouth, unable to wrench her eyes from the blackened form.

  • The Inquisition of Aliara O’Dell

    Comments Off on The Inquisition of Aliara O’Dell
    June 24, 2012 /  Inquisitions, Logs

    [It all began with orders…]

    The Courier hands you two letters.

    You examine a piece of mail.
    To : Jenifyr Written: Sun Jun 17 15:14:53 2012
    Date: Arendas, Augustus 20 354

    To the desk of Her Holiness the new Cardinal and Patriarch of Lithmore,
    and Inquisitor von Vakhrova:

    The Grand Master has arrested a woman that confessed to be a mage, and put
    her in a private cell in the tower. I know next to nothing about the
    encounter, but what he said in his brief report:

    Recently when I was going into the cathedral to say some morning prayers
    there was a girl who was weeping at the steps, she asked if I was a knight
    and then if I could refer her to an inquisitor. When I asked her why she
    said that she had ripped a man apart with her mind. I placed her in the
    well appointed single cell because I figured she wasn’t that dangerous and
    at least deserved some fine treatment before she would be questioned. Her
    eyes then went violet and she told me to beware the rose. Before she had
    said that she saw a rose surrounded by fire and my face. I would
    appreciate some information on a rose that has to do with mages or any
    other sort of organization if possible and convenient.

    That is the entriety of it, and other then that, I have no information.
    Dav bless,

    Dame Earl Marshall Lylie ab Mantiff

    You examine a piece of mail.
    To : Jenifyr Written: Sun Jun 17 16:31:44 2012
    Date: Balasdes, Augustus 21 354

    My Dear Lady Earl Marshall and Honored Grand Master, copied also to High
    Inquisitor Vakhrova.

    Thank you, firstly, for your fine actions regarding the girl named Aliara
    O’dell; it was the correct decision to place someone with taint- albeit one
    with contrition and shame- into a safe place.

    A question was asked about the rose, and rose symbology. At this stage,
    there are no individuals or groups under suspicion that are known to use
    the rose in either naming or as a symbol. That said, the rose has been
    used as a powerful symbol in the past, most often by the tainted of higher
    birth, and more often as a personal mark of identity. With that said, I
    would advise paying little mind to the words of this girl, most especially
    with anything involving divination.

    As a final note, I expect that High Inquisitor Vakhrova will be taking
    charge from this case as I step away from the Holy Office to a degree and
    take up the mantle of Cardinal more fully. Until a new Grand Inquisitor is
    appointed, however, I will be continuing to assist the Inquisition, as well
    as clearing up any standing cases.

    When you both have a moment, I’d be delighted to meet with you either
    together or individually- it is beyond overdue that we do so, regardless.

    In faith & service,
    Romana von Mestan.

    You begin to move east.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    The key turns easily, unlocking the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You open the eastern door.
    You leave east, her movements naturally tranquil.

    A Well-Appointed Single Cell
    [Chilly]
    This solitary cell is not generous in its proportions, but has been
    furnished with more care and attention than the rest of the jail. The
    rushes that soften the stone are thick and frequently replaced, cushioning
    the feet. A simple pallet stuffed with straw runs along the eastern wall,
    providing a reasonably comfortable place to rest; clean water awaits in a
    two-foot washbasin. Sconces high on the walls cast a mellow light over the
    space, softening the shadows cast. To the west, a heavy, reinforced wooden
    door leads back into the common cellblock.

    [ Exits: west ]
    A pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes is here. [App: 4]
    You have arrived.

    It’s not closed. Attempting to close.
    You close the western door.
    The key turns easily in the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    This well-endowed woman has blonde highlights and blue-violet eyes. Her face is pleasantly round, her skin soft, her lips full. She’d be much prettier if not for her constant look of worry and nervous fidgeting.
    You are a hand taller than she is.

    A pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes is using:
    a small wooden chalice pendant hung from a strip of leather
    loose linen sleeves with cuffs that extend past the fingers
    a proper bodice laced snug over an unassuming linen chemise
    a practical, leather belt hung with a functional coin purse
    a full linen skirt falling modestly to just brush the floor
    a pair of comfortable hard leather shoes with a strong sole

    A pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes steps back, shivering.

    It is early morning on Balasdes, Augustus (Month 8) 21.
    In the Sun Cycle of the Lord: 354.

    Jenifyr hands the keys to the guard outside the door through the small window, then turns to observe a pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes, “Good morning, Miss. I’m afraid I don’t have your name.”

    A pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes says, “Aliara. Aliara O’Dell.”From here on you will remember a pretty blonde girl with blue-violet eyes as Aliara.

    Aliara wonders, “Did the kind knight send you a letter about me?”

    Jenifyr reaches up to touch her chin, “I am Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova. Yes, the Lady Earl Marshall sent me a letter about you. She stated that you believe yourself to be a mage. Is this true, my child?” Her forehead, usually smooth, wrinkles in its frame of a veil-less wimple.

    Aliara looks the Inquisitor in the eyes. “Look at my eyes. A week ago they were blue. And…I have…”

    Jenifyr comes forward and reaches out to place a hand on Aliara’s shoulder, “Tilt your head back, child, so that I may look.”

    Aliara tilts her head back, and opens her eyes wide, and states, “It started off with the dreams.”

    Jenifyr hmms, then releases Aliara, stepping back, “Come with me. We should speak in a more appropriate place.” She beckons Aliara to follow her.

    Aliara declaims, “A black void…then I would see things. A week ago, I saw you in a dream. And a man. I don’t know him. He had a black beard. He was…naked. And he was trying to kill you. With magic!”

    The key turns easily, unlocking the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    You begin to move west.
    You open the western door.
    You leave west, her movements naturally tranquil.
    Aliara arrives from the east.
    Aliara slows to a halt.

    You close the eastern door.
    The key turns easily in the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    You begin to move west.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    The key turns easily, unlocking the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You open the western door.
    You leave west, her movements naturally tranquil.

    The Interrogation Chambers
    [Chilly]
    The purpose of this room is immediately evident, an interrogation
    chamber containing all of the devices common in such practice. The initial
    half appears relatively benign. A single, uncomfortable looking, stool
    faces a heavy wood table that fronts a large chair, almost akin to a
    throne. Light streams from torches behind the interrogator’s seat, leaving
    it shadowed and the stool well exposed. Towards the rear of the room, its
    grisly use becomes more apparent. A large oven is stoked with burning
    coals with a rack of painful looking iron instruments standing nearby.
    Benches line the wall with complex restraints or leather, rope, and steel,
    though all are dwarfed by the rack that stands center. Shelves and racks
    display the tools of the inquisitor’s trade, artfully displayed to evoke
    the maximum of terror.

    (Rows of wicked looking tools with dubious purpose lay rolled out across
    the flat tables. A stone oven blazes with heat, two hot pokers shoved into
    its smouldering coals, and a bucket of water rests to the right of the
    questioning chair. )

    [ Exits: east ]
    You have arrived.

    Aliara arrives from the east.
    Aliara slows to a halt.
    You close the eastern door.
    The key turns easily in the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Jenifyr gestures to the chair, “Please, have a seat.”

    Aliara sits down.

    Aliara looks around her, eyes wide. She swallows hard, then nods, a brave look settling on her face.

    Aliara says, “You need to do this. I need to be purified. I need my soul clean.”

    [Action: Aliara is sitting on a stool.]

    Jenifyr moves to sit down as well on a bench beside one of the tables. She watches Aliara’s face and says, “Do not be concerned. Nothing untoward will happen to you unless you attack me. Or refuse the Lord of the Springs.” She loosely laces her fingers together, “You claim prophetic dreams, and your eyes have changed color. The Lady Knight’s report says that you believe yourself a murderess?”

    Aliara nods.

    “Tell me about that,” Jenifyr’s gentle voice requests. [Jenifyr]

    Jenifyr sits nearby Aliara, speaking conversationally with her.

    Aliara swallows hard.

    Aliara pontificates, “A man tried to … hurt me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t…I have no idea what I did. I’m not sure I could do it again. I hope I cannot. I want it out of me. I … ripped him apart. As if he were drawn and quartered, without the horses or rope. Then I trampled him to mush. He’s a red stain on the south side now. You have to get this OUT of me!”

    Aliara declares, “The thing is..I never touched him! I did it with sheer…terror.”

    Jenifyr stretches her neck a bit, a bird-like gesture, “When did this happen?” Her voice remains tranquil and soothing as she reaches out to lay a calming hand on Aliara’s wrist.

    Aliara states, “Days ago. How long have i been here? The day before I went to Sir Atholos.”

    Jenifyr nods solemnly, “Why do you believe that you were the source? Is it not possible that there is a mage stalking you, casting spells and attempting to drive you mad? I’ve heard of such before, and honestly, I’ve seen cases worse.”

    Aliara her eyes turn a bright violet, flaring with light and filling the room. Her voice echoes unnaturally. “Xegon var marra seb nautolan vex! Beware the rose!” then, she is back to normal, just as quickly, seemingly oblivious to what just happened.

    Aliara looks thoughtful. “I KNOW I did it. I felt myself doing it. Like an extension of my own hands.”

    Jenifyr sighs, rising and moving towards Aliara, reaching out to take her hand and lay it along the chair’s arm, then beginning the work to strap Aliara in. Wrists first, then forearms, then ankles, then just above the knee. Waist, chest, about the neck, then the head cage. Jenifyr begins this process calmly, not at all in a hurry, and keeps speaking, “I see. How are you feeling right now, this very moment? Frightened, full of rage? Forgive me, this is a precaution for my safety.”

    Aliara claims, “This will sound, strange, Inquisitor. I am frightened. But I am at peace. Knowing I can be saved here. I don’t want to burn. But I want to be saved. The only other time I have been at peace was when sleeping. When the dreams came.”

    Jenifyr sits down and takes up a quill, “So you believe that you are a mage as opposed to, perhaps, possessed by a demon or another mage?” Jenifyr begins to jot notes as she speaks.

    Aliara looks thoughtful. “I…I am not sure. A demon…i thought all mages are possessed by demons. The very magic is a demon, is it not?”

    Aliara states resolutely. “If it is a demon, it cannot control me. I came here. I beat it.”

    Aliara says, “I will have my peace.”

    Jenifyr shakes her head, “We’re not entirely sure that we understand magic in its complexity. What we do know is that demons are malevolent forces with distinct personalities. They often seduce and cajole people into letting them in, and take control of them. They can be either overt or subtle. In you, I daresay it appears overt. Do you recall what you said to me moments before about the rose?”

    Aliara muses, “I dreamed of a rose. In the dreams. When did I mention the rose to you?”

    “A few moments ago, you spouted an unknown language, then said ‘beware of the rose’,” Jenifyr replies placidly. “I thought you might not remember. And, dear, I do believe this is a case of possession. Alas, it is true that mages are more inclined to be possessed – the taint is something of an oil to grease the demon’s entry… but it does not necessarily mean that is the case. Unfortunately, expelling a demon… it is no easy matter, my child.” Sadness enters Jenifyr’s eyes, “You may not survive.” [Jenifyr]

    Aliara asks, “If I die, will my soul still be saved?”

    Jenifyr smiles gently, “If your not a mage, then your soul is safe right now, we just have to get the demon out.” Jenifyr pauses, “If you’re a mage, we will have to burn the taint from you to allow your soul to rejoin the Lord of the Springs. It’s too early to tell yet, my child, though I strongly believe you’re presenting a case of possession rather than magery – most mages are lucid and aware of their deeds.”

    Aliara says, “Unless I am a possessed mage. I am aware of what I did to that man.”

    Aliara claims, “He…DESERVED it. But not that way. Not unnaturally.”

    Jenifyr lowers her gaze, “That is also possible, yes. As I said, this is a complicated matter.” She sets aside her quill and rises, moving to one of the long tables. There are some herbs there, which she takes up a knife and begins to chop, “Aye, that could be the case. What do you know of roses, Miss O’Dell?”

    Aliara says, “They are flowers. Grow on a bush. Have thorns. different colors. The one in my dreams is red.”

    “I see, so no special significance to you,” Jenifyr replies, taking a handful of the herb and dumping it into a cup of water. She dusts off her hands, and picks up the cup, coming to Aliara, “Please, drink this.” Jenifyr lifts the cup to Aliara’s lips and murmurs, “It will soothe your nerves.” [Jenifyr]

    You think to yourself, “And the hemproot will prevent any casting if you are, indeed, a mage.”

    Aliara drinks deeply from the cup.

    Jenifyr sits the cup aside and says, “I wish to proceed in an attempt to expell the demon. If it does not work, then you are likely a mage. Trust me, my child., I will do everything in my power to save your soul. It is what the Lord of the Springs blessed me to do.”

    Jenifyr nods and rises from her seat, going to the oven and placing a brand in the shape of a chalice into the coals. She asks Aliara, “When you were a child, did anything unusual happen to you?”

    Aliara shakes her head. “No…I was happily going to church every day, saying my prayers, everything a good Davite is supposed to do. It was only about a week ago…”

    “And nothing unusual happened that week? Were you ill, perhaps?” Jenifyr wonders as she agitates the coals with the brand. [Jenifyr]

    Aliara states, “It started with the dreams. I slept more than usual, and the dreams. It was a great dark void. I heard whispers. There were many dreams. I can’t remember them all. The rose was just one. I saw a knight burning, not no a pyre.

    Fires all around. Everything burned but the rose. I saw a black bearded man in this very tower, naked, I saw his soul float by, screaming in the void.”

    “Well, that sounds frightening. I wonder if the demon possessing you has some connection to the dead mage, Master Tiverius Zichari,” Jenifyr sighs, pulling the brand from the fire. She says apologetically to Aliara, “You must understand, there will be pain – but pain is part of the process. And if you survive expelling the demon, the marks will never leave you.” [Jenifyr]

    Aliara claims, “”Give me a moment, please.””

    Jenifyr nods solemnly, placing the poker back in the coals and watching Aliara with interest.

    Aliara nods and closes her eyes, murmuring in sequence Dav’s Words, Dav’s Laws, and Confession, in sequence.

    Aliara opens her eyes again. They burn with violet light, but they pulsate back to normal, then violet several times. There is determination on Aliara’s face. “Do it. Get it out.” [Aliara]

    Jenifyr nods to herself when Aliara is done, then withdraws the poker once more, approaching her and checking that the cage to hold Aliara’s head in place is still. She reaches up to Aliara’s neckline, pulling it slightly down to the side to expose the young woman’s shoulder, then places the brand hard and harsh against the flesh. As she does so, she begins to pray herself.

    Aliara screams. The scream echoes unnaturally through the tower.

    Aliara laughs through the scream. She manages to rasp, even while her flesh sizzles, “The demon. It hates you. It wants to protect me. It doesn’t know you’re protecting me.”

    “Demon, begone!” Jenifyr cries at the apex of her prayers, and pulls the brand away. A sizzle of flesh comes away at the brand and the scent of burning fills the air. Jenifyr allows Aliara to fall back into her seat as she moves to place the brand back in the coals, “It’s there? You can feel it inside now? Separate from you? Good, child, good. The fire is doing its fair work.” [Jenifyr]

    Aliara smiles, despite the tears rolling down her face. “I can hear it. It is talking to me. Its saying you will burn me. That Dav is a lie. That it would protect me. It’s asking me to let it kill you. It thinks it loves me.”

    “I will do all that I can for you, child,” Jenifyr replies, going to the bench and preparing another cup of herbs and water. She approaches Aliara, “This will help with the pain, child, and confuse the demon while I do my work.” [Jenifyr]

    Aliara nods, sweat beading on her forehead. She opens her lips.

    Jenifyr gently feeds Aliara some of the water in the cup, then quietly heads over to her bench again whilst it takes effect. She picks up a wet cloth and comes to place its coolness over the brand, which now weeps clear fluids and has raised with blisters in the sign of the Chalice. She speaks soothing words of prayer over Aliara.

    The moment she seems to relax, Aliara’s chest heaves and the violet glow comes from her eyes and mouth both as she convulses. When she speaks, it is with hundreds of voices. “This vessel is ours, inquisitor. Find your own for your pathetic faith. She can be powerful. We will will not yeild her.” [Aliara]

    Jenifyr goes to the door and whispers a message to the guard outside.
    Message sent.

    Jenifyr turns back to the woman, tilting her eyes somewhat, “So, you are the demon inside this girl. You know that your recriminations do nothing more than prove our faith. You will face the flames, you evil beast, that would take a girl such as this and end her life. It sickens me, but I know that I do right in this world because of beasts like you,” Jenifyr’s
    reprimand is solemn, but fierce.

    Aliara chants. -Codal vox cola moch voma si var. Shiva far mod. You cannot have her, your Dav is a lie! You kill your own,
    and cripple yourselves. We save whom we can from your cruelty. But your flames send them, not to Dav, but to Beratrix, the Lady of Fire. Every mage you consign to the flames burns forever. Tiverius is safe, he is here with us. All you do is make yourselves the unwitting pawns of more dangerous spirits than we are.-

    Jenifyr shakes her head and approaches Aliara with a ball gag in hand. She uses a stick to leverage Aliara’s mouth open, then places the gag. “Demons and their lies,” she sighs as she takes out a pair of manacles to bind Aliara’s hands together. “I wish you were a little less tenacious, demon.” Once Aliara is bound in iron, a potent antimagical metal, Jenifyr begins to release the woman from the chair, calling, “Guards! Fetch a knight and have River Square prepared.”

    -She is at peace while I have her. It is only when she is in pain that I cannot protect her, that she lashes out with her strength. You fight the wrong battles, Inquisitor.- Aliara convulses again, her eyes returning to normal. [Aliara]

    Aliara looks up at the inquisitor, her eyes normal again.

    Aliara bites at the gag in her mouth, not remembering how it got there.

    Jenifyr comes over to smooth Aliara’s hair, “Shhh,” she whispers in the girl’s ear, “I’ve given you a draught to ease the pain. The fire will destroy the demon, and the Lord of the Springs will take you into his arms.”

    Jenifyr withdraws a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain and motions for Aliara to put her hands together.

    Aliara looks resolved and nods.
    Aliara places her hands out, wrists together, and nods to you.
    You fastens a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain around Aliara’s wrists.
    Aliara now follows you.

    The key turns easily, unlocking the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You begin to move east.

    [RPxp: fair] [HP:perfect MV:tired P:walk] (action)(noquit)(bathed)(Diremote)
    You open the eastern door.
    You leave east, her movements naturally tranquil.
    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    (The room has been cleaned, at least. It still smells awful, though. )

    [ Exits: -north- -east- -south- west -down- ]
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southwest corner. (southwestern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southeast corner. (southeastern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northwest corner.
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northeast corner. (northeastern corner)
    A swinging cage of iron bars is hung in the center of the room. (center)
    A heavy-set, attentive guard watches the prisoners for signs of wrongdoing.
    You have arrived.

    The bolt in the southern door slides open.
    Aliara arrives from the west.
    Aliara slows to a halt.

    The southern door is opened from the other side.
    Romana von Mestan arrives from the south.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    Romana von Mestan slows to a halt.
    Romana von Mestan closes the southern door.
    Romana von Mestan locks the southern door.

    Jenifyr bows low when Romana von Mestan enters, “Your Holiness, I was just bringing this girl to the pyre. She is powerfully possessed, and I was unable to even shake the demon with a brand. I fear the pyre is the only course.”

    Romana von Mestan nods to Jenifyr lightly in greeting, “High Inquisitor. Who is this young woman?” Her lips turn up in a light smile as she adjusts her clothing more comfortably about her. At Jenifyr’s report, her lips press together and she nods, “Then so shall it be. Lead on, I’ll join you.”

    Romana von Mestan now follows you.

    “This is Aliara O’Dell,” Jenifyr says to Romana von Mestan as they leave the cells, “She began to have strange dreams a
    few nights ago, and yesterday killed a man in Southside with her mind – ripped him apart, she says.” [Jenifyr]

    Travel to River Square…
    You have arrived.

    River Square
    [Chilly, clear, heavy breeze from the east, morning]
    The stench of the prison tower permeates the area, only barely mitigated
    by the cool swell from the river Bren beyond it to the north. Rough
    cobbles pave the ground, separated by wide cracks, and the entire ground
    slopes towards a grate in the center of the square. Sparse but determined
    weeds creep out of the ground, this square perhaps one of the worst kempt
    in the commerce district of the city. A few Tubori post torches, iron
    cages filled with pitch, jut from the ground about the square, providing
    light in the evening and strange, eye-catching decorations in the day. Set
    up in the center of the square is a large, blood stained chopping block,
    complete with a half circle cut out for the neck.

    [ Exits: north south ]
    A thick wooden post blackened by fire proudly points to the sky.
    A well built man with piercing blue eyes is here. [App: 3]
    A slim young woman with sky blue eyes is here. [App: 4]
    A middle-aged, brown-eyed man is standing here, watching the proceedings. [App: 3]
    A medium sized fox hound.
    A young, brown-haired man is here looking to the post blackened by ash waiting for the burning. [App: 2]
    Rothgar Astartes is here, standing near storm. [App: 1]
    He is holding a book of the Declarations.
    Lien le Storm stands near Rothgar Astartes [App: 3]
    You have arrived.

    Romana von Mestan arrives from the north.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    Romana von Mestan slows to a halt.
    Aliara arrives from the north.
    Aliara slows to a halt.

    You close the northern door.
    The key turns easily in the northern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Rothgar Astartes salutes Jenifyr, quickly, staying silent as he stands by Lien le Storm.

    A slim young woman with sky blue eyes moves in to stand at a point where she has a view of the pyre, remaining quiet herself.

    Romana von Mestan walks out in the company of Jenifyr, offering her a momentary nod before she departs from her side and moves to stand in a good vantage spot for suverying the cleansing as well as the crowd beyond. A light smile curls her lips at the edges as she looks on.

    A tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes arrives from the south, walking briskly and purposefully.
    A tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes slows to a halt.

    Jenifyr solemnly leads Aliara forth from the Ahalin Tower, sighting the crowds. She nods to them, and declares as she moves towards the pyre, “Gentlefolk of Lithmore, you see before you Miss Aliara O’Dell, a good hearted lass who has been afflicted by the evil taint of a demon. What sins opened the doorway for this perversion to enter her, I cannot say, only that it is true.”

    Lien le Storm narrows eyes on a well built man with piercing blue eyes for a second, before chin lifts and lips purse together and body noticably turns towards Rothgar Astartes next to her. With Jenifyr’s words, her pale blue eyes go to the woman.

    [Action: Romana von Mestan stands here, observing, her hands clasped behind her back.]

    Talya le Salyndri arrives from the south.
    Talya le Salyndri slows to a halt.

    Aliara nods at Jenifyr.

    Talya le Salyndri states, “What’s going on, oh my.”

    “Two nights ago, she murdered a man. With her mind,” Jenifyr states as she brings Aliara to the pyre, “She went to the Knights Lithmorran and confessed this, begging them to bring her to an Inquisitor.” [Jenifyr]

    A well built man with piercing blue eyes steps into the square admist a group of Reeves, a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes and a slim young woman with sky blue eyes amongst them; All coming from a similar location, it would make sense that they arrive near each other. a well built man with piercing blue eyes looks over to Jenifyr, looking curious.

    A young, brown-haired man looks to Talya le Salyndri as she speaks and lifts a finger up to his mouth to motion for silence for now.

    A tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes stands apart from the rest, hands clasped together beneath a twice-wrapped leather belt with a sword and dagger sheath as he watches on– he merely lowers his head then, chin resting against the fabric of his overcoat.

    Rothgar Astartes fixes his eyes on Jenifyr, looking over to Aliara and nodding once to her, letting his hands behind his back as he stands at a position of parade rest.

    Talya le Salyndri swallows hard, looking away.

    “The Inquisitors attempted to drive the demon out with flame,” Jenifyr continues, turning to address the crowd fully once Aliara is secure. Jenifyr takes a deep breath and declares solemnly, “We failed. The demon remains within.” [Jenifyr]

    Talya le Salyndri approaches a well built man with piercing blue eyes, closing the distance.
    Talya le Salyndri is near.

    Jenifyr lifts her hands to the sky, looking up beseechingly to the heavens, then lowers them to clasp them before her chest, “People of Lithmore, let us pray together for this woman’s soul. That the fire may incinerate the taint that plagues her whilst allowing her immortal soul to fly free into the arms of the Lord of the Springs. Let her live on in eternity with the sun streaming through her hair and the waters of the Lord of the Springs to wash her feet. Pray with me.”

    The church bells ring five times, announcing the hour of terce.

    Aliara closes her eyes to pray.

    Rothgar Astartes lowers his head in response to Jenifyr, closing his eyes and breathing calm and deep.

    Talya le Salyndri positions herself so Edvard’s shoulder is blocking her view.

    Romana von Mestan lowers her eyes respectfully as the reqest for prayer is made.

    Standing apart from the crowd, a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes stalls a bit– he watches the burning woman, then lowers his head too, hands clasped together.

    A young, brown-haired man lowers his head as well in response to Jenifyr’s request.

    A middle-aged, brown-eyed man places his fist in his palm and lowers his head in sync with the crowd.

    Talya le Salyndri looks down.

    Jenifyr speaks the ritual words for a Moment of Silence, then lifts her gaze and makes the sign of the chalice to end the prayer. Silently, and solemnly, she moves over to Aliara, and traces a chalice on the girl’s forehead, then whispers something into her ear.

    Lien le Storm brings her hand up to clasp fingers around chalice, twisting it about as she bows her head forward. Dusky locks sliding over her brow to dangle over and obscure her eyes.

    You whisper to Aliara, ‘The Lord of the Springs be with you, child, and embrace you.’

    A well built man with piercing blue eyes folds his arms across his chest, and as a matter of fact does make a rather good pyre-blocker. His gaze settles evenly on the condemned woman, unblinking.

    You move Aliara to the pole.
    You secure Aliara’s hands to the pole with a length of chain.
    Aliara looks thankfully, almost lovingly at Jenifyr.
    You open a flask of oil and spread it around the bottom of the pole.
    You light a crude torch, holding it at shoulder height, and make the sign of the Chalice.
    A slim young woman with sky blue eyes murmurs out her own bit of the prayer, falling quiet again as the woman is moved to the pyre.
    You cast the torch onto the base of the pyre. The oil ignites immediately.
    Flames lick at the base of Aliara’s feet.
    Rising higher, the flames encompass Aliara. The smell of burning flesh permeates the air.

    Jenifyr solemnly clasps her hands at her waist, keeping a dutiful vigil.

    Aliara writhes in the flames.
    Aliara tries to scream, unsuccessfully, through the gag.
    Aliara writhes in the flames.

    Rothgar Astartes looks up at violet for a time, but just shakes his head and turns away as she burns, stepping out for a moment, using Lien le Storm as a shield from the noise.

    Aliara writhes in the flames.
    Aliara writhes in the flames.

    A well built man with piercing blue eyes winces with the first shriek of agony, then stands even once more, arms still crossed.

    Aliara writhes in the flames.
    Aliara, as the gag burns away, shouts “BEWARE THE ROSE!”

    Aliara writhes in the flames.
    Completely engulfing Aliara, the flames burn her to cinders.

    A slim young woman with sky blue eyes blinks and takes half a step back at the shouting.
    A young, brown-haired man swallows as the words are cried out throughout the square and makes the sign of the chalice.

    Romana von Mestan looks up, observing Alia as she shifts in pain through the flames, brows raising as the girl manages to call out her mysterious warning.

    Jenifyr turns back to the crowd and says solemnly, “Thank you, brothers and sisters, for coming to this woman in her last hour. Go forth, and celebrate life with your loved ones.”

    Lien le Storm’s hand comes up to cover the lower half of her face, a gasp barely muffled by her palm. She draws in a few quick breathes of air, swallowing quickly she turns away.

    You think to yourself, “Go on, now people. Stop gawking, and disperse.”

    Talya le Salyndri keeps her eyes away from the entire burning.

    Rothgar Astartes swallows hard, turning back about as the deed is done, quietly nodding to Lien le Storm and touching her lightly on the shoulder before moving over to speak with Jenifyr. “Recieved your missive.” He rumbles, quietly, to her.

    A middle-aged, brown-eyed man remains like stone as he watches the pyre. His face unchanging as if accustomed to such sights.

    You sponsor Rothgar Astartes for entry into your guild.

    Talya le Salyndri wonders, “Who was that?”

    Jenifyr nods solemnly to Rothgar Astartes, gesturing to guards to take up the remains of the corpse. She says to Talya le Salyndri, “Her name was Aliara O’Dell, and she was a good woman. Please, Miss le Salyndri, pray for her.”

    You get the corpse of a Lithmorran woman.

    A slim young woman with sky blue eyes turns back to the other Reeves, suggesting, “Back to headquarters?”

    Talya le Salyndri looks down and prays.

    [Action: Rothgar Astartes is here, standing by Jenifyr.]

    “Some woman who was new ta the city.. Mmh, well, hadn’t made much o’ a name for herself at least.” a well built man with piercing blue eyes informs Talya le Salyndri, his head moves to a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes, and where he stands apart from the rest, speaking to both him and a slim young woman with sky blue eyes. “I found somethin’ ta do; go see about buyin’ another bottle o’ that brandy an’ finishin’ it.”

    Jenifyr wonders to Rothgar Astartes, “Can you assist us, Master Astartes? Oversee the burial?”

    A tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes lifts both shoulders and turns briefly towards a slim young woman with sky blue eyes, though he doesn’t move to leave the scene. “You both can go on,” he murmurs, dismissing both her and a well built man with piercing blue eyes, “should you choose to do so. I’ll meander around, I think.”

    Rothgar Astartes looks at the corpse, then at Jenifyr, a frown on his face. “Do you require anything of me, Lady Inquisitor? I think that I should debrief you on what we found last night.” He rumbles, before looking back down at the body, nodding. “Aye, Lady Inquisitor. I’ve buried worse.”

    Lien le Storm glances briefly to Rothgar Astartes, before turning on the heel of black suede boots, tugging at the side of her hood she uses the silk to obscure the scent of the still smouldering remains.

    You give the corpse of a Lithmorran woman to Rothgar Astartes.

  • The Death of Tiverius Zichari

    Comments Off on The Death of Tiverius Zichari
    June 17, 2012 /  Inquisitions, Logs

    Solitary Confinement Cell
    [Pleasant]
    This small cell is little more than a wretched hole, dim and fetid with
    damp. A cold stone floor is littered with a thin layer of rotting straw, a
    reeking chamber pot in one corner and a bucket of fetid water in another.
    The proportions of the cell barely allow for five paces in each direction,
    heavy iron shackles fixed into the northern wall. A heavy wooden door is
    set in the southern wall, reinforced and bolted.

    [ Exits: south ]
    A broad man, with curly, long black hair is chained to the northern wall by his wrists and ankles and has a black sack over his head. [App: 3]
    He is stark naked.
    You have arrived.

    You close the southern door.
    The key turns easily in the southern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    A broad man, with curly, long black hair turns his head toward Jenifyr, He says in a muffled voice, “Who’s there?”

    “I’m Inquisitor Jenifyr von Vakhrova,” Jenifyr announces placidly as she locks the door behind her and passes the keys to the guard outside the window. “I’ve come to speak with you on matters of your presence here. Are you gagged, my good man?” [Jenifyr]

    A broad man, with curly, long black hair turns his head toward Jenifyr and nods.

    Jenifyr approaches a broad man, with curly, long black hair and reaches up to remove the hood from his head. “What is your name?” she inquires calmly, blue eyes like pools of water as she observes him.

    A broad man, with curly, long black hair spits out the gag, a bit of dried blood absorbed in the cloth. “Tiverius Zichari” he says as he looks at Jenifyr. He stands and comes to the full extent of his bonds.

    From here on you will remember a broad man, with curly, long black hair as Tiverius Zichari.

    You will now speak Vandagan.

    Jenifyr cocks her head as she looks Tiverius Zichari over, “Are you Vandagan, Master Zichari?” she wonders.

    [Action: Tiverius Zichari is standing here speaking with Jenifyr, securely bound by iron chains.]

    Tiverius Zichari nods his head at Jenifyr “Yes, I hail from Vandago.” He looks around the cell curiously.

    Jenifyr seems to be saddened by this, “I’m sorry that you’re here. I dislike inquisitioning my own countrymen, especially on foreign soil.”

    “Why are you here, Master Zichari?” Jenifyr wonders as she moves away from him to lean against the wall, lightly crossing her arms under her ample bosom. [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari is standing here speaking with Jenifyr, securely bound by iron chains.
    He is stark naked.
    You see a broad man with curly, long black hair before you. His
    compexion is light brown, and rough. His hair is tied back, keeping it out
    of his face. His facial features are rough, with a round jaw, and thick
    coal-black beard. His eyes are a gentle contrast, being a light-blue
    color, and fall under two dark, bushy, eyebrows. His frame is broad, and
    solid. Thick muscles show signs of hard labor, and toil. He purses his
    lips from time to time in concentration.
    He is taller than you by a hand and a half.
    They seem to have the following injuries:
    A light bruise on the right foot [Untreated]
    He cannot move well due to his injuries.

    Tiverius Zichari chuckles at Jenifyr “Apparently, I was accused of magery by a corrupt Reeve.” He looks around the cell again, and past the cell doorway.”

    Jenifyr leans against the wall, speaking with Tiverius Zichari.

    Tiverius Zichari rubs his left wrist, where the shackle has cut into the skin.

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Jenifyr and says, “I was accused of magery by Edvard ab Stirke.”

    Jenifyr wanders closer to Tiverius Zichari, reaching up with a pair of fine, fingerless scarlet suede gloves to lift the black curls from Tiverius Zichari’s shoulders. Her thumb strokes one of the curls. “Hmm, tell me about Edvard ab Stirke. I’ve heard rumors of him being, well, less than savory.”

    You think to yourself, “Black curls – I wonder if this is the man Felicie reported.”

    Tiverius Zichari turns his head as Jenifyr touches his hair. “Yes, He’s a bandit and high ranking member of the Brotherhood of Common Goods. And by all standards… vile.”

    Jenifyr releases Tiverius Zichari’s hair and backs out of his reach, “Aye, we’ve heard the same. Why did he accuse you of magery?” Jenifyr wonders as she tranquilly wanders back to the cell door and calls the guard, “Prepare a message, if you will.”

    Tiverius Zichari smiles at Jenifyr “Probably because I wanted him dead.” He looks at Jenifyr up and down before returning his eyes to hers.

    Jenifyr passes a whispered message to the guard, “Master ab Stirke, the Inquisitor, Jenifyr von Vakhrova, requests that you immediately send her a report regarding your accusations of magery of Master Tiverius Zichari. She is in cells with him now, and requires this information to expedite his Review of Faith, and she thanks you for your timely assistance,” but only parts are able to be heard.

    Message sent.

    Jenifyr turns back to Tiverius Zichari, “Why do you want him dead, and have you taken any actions thus?”

    Your messenger to Edvard was received.

    Tiverius Zichari looks past Jenifyr to the doorway, “I wanted him dead because he would be able to denounce me.” He turns his head a bit before saying, “Though I didn’t take direct action against him. In fact, he called me.”

    “Denounce you as a mage?” Jenifyr asks coolly, eyes roving over Tiverius Zichari with perhaps more appreciation than warranted. [Jenifyr]

    You think to yourself, “My, he is a well built man. Ahh, I love my job.”

    Tiverius Zichari claims, “No, As a member of the Brotherhood. He was a high ranking member. If not the Tenebrae.””

    “Ahh, so you are a member of the Brotherhood attempting to gullet a backstabber, you say?” Jenifyr wonders aloud. [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari nods at woman grimly, “That is correct.” He takes a step back, allowing the chains more slack.

    “How did magery enter the question?” Jenifyr wonders, a small smile curving her lips. [Jenifyr]

    The bolt in the southern door slides open.

    The southern door is opened from the other side.
    Romana von Mestan arrives from the south.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    A tough-featured bodyguard has arrived.
    Romana von Mestan slows to a halt.
    Romana von Mestan closes the southern door.
    Romana von Mestan locks the southern door.

    Jenifyr straightens from where she stands when the bolt slides open, turning and bowing deeply to Romana von Mestan, “Your Holy Honor, good day.”

    Tiverius Zichari smiles at Romana von Mestan “Ah Yes… The magery. It’s probably a clever scheme to weaken the Guild of Merchants for his profit.”

    Romana von Mestan nods to Jenifyr firmly in greeting, allowing her a momentary smile of recognition before her attention falls upon Tiverius Zichari. “Any progress with the gentleman, Inquisitor?”

    Jenifyr straightens, then says to Romana von Mestan, “Your Holy Honor, this is Master Tiverius Zichari of the Merchants Guild and, incidentally, the Brotherhood of the Common goods – he is Vandagan, your Holy Honor, and speaks the mother tongue.”

    Jenifyr pauses, “He says that he was accused of magery by Edvard ab Stirke because he attempted to kill him for betraying the Brotherhood. I’ve sent a request to Edvard ab Stirke to forward me any reports.”

    A message has arrived for you.

    Romana von Mestan offers Tiverius Zichari a nod at the introduction, extending a simple greeting of, “Master Zichari.” She opens a leather binder, taking out a flat parchment that she holds out to Jenifyr, “This should cover the basics of the situation at hand as presented to me, Inquisitor.”

    The guard knocks on the door, saying, “Your Holy Honor, Inquisitor – Judge ab Stirke sent a boy with a message saying that both the Cardinal and the Grand Inquisitor were mailed his testimony. If ye be wanting first hand evidence of Master Tiverius’ magery, look inside of the Divine’s dining area. The judge is leaving to jump into a cave and isn’t in a position where he can assist you further in this matter at the moment.” [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari shakes his head before saying, “Will I be privvy to his accusations?”

    Jenifyr comments, “I’m not impressed by ‘Judge’ ab Stirke’s disinterest in assisting us directly.” She observes Tiverius Zichari coolly, “I’m afraid not, Master Zichari. Now then, what will we find if we look inside of the Divine’s dining area?”

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan and answers, “Probably a great deal of damage from him attacking me.” He rubs his right wrist for a moment before saying, “How convenient. He is exploring a hole in the ground, and can’t appear to denounce me in person.”

    Romana von Mestan nods an agreement with Jenifyr’s statement of disinterest, writing a brief notation within her binder before she sets it shut and tucks it away into her satchel. “It is not the custom of the Inquisition to outlay any ‘accusations’, although all shall be made clear in time. Now then… what is the nature of the relationship between yourself and ab Stirke. Do I detect a certain animosity that goes into the realm of the personal? Pardon me if this was discussed before my arrival.”

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan and nods, “Of course, he is a scoundrel that hides behind his title as Judge.” He looks around the cell area once again.

    Jenifyr purses her lips, “What sort of destruction happened to the Divine dining room?”

    You move towards the north and west.
    You have reached your target.

    Jenifyr beckons Romana von Mestan to join her in the corner.

    Romana von Mestan nods to Tiverius Zichari, head tilting a little before she queries, “Can you expand on that, perhaps? What manner of scoundrel, and what are his past actions that have led to this belief as to his nature?”

    Tiverius Zichari nods to Romana von Mestan “I have suspected him as being a high-ranking member of the Brotherhood of Common Goods. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard rumor of his extra-judicial activities.”

    You whisper to Romana von Mestan, ‘as far as I can tell, all we have on this man is that he’s in opposition to Edvard ab Stirke – a known thief. Given that he’s Vandagan, I’m inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than that I’m deeply offended that ab Stirke cannot send me a report.’

    Romana von Mestan gives you a piece of mail.
    Romana von Mestan gives you a piece of mail.

    You examine a piece of mail.

    .:*C*:._.:*O*:._.:*U*:._.:*R*:._.:*I*:._.:*E*:._.:*R*:.
    To : Romana Written: Fri Jun 15 00:49:47 2012
    Date: Lunisda, Augustus 10 354

    Your Holiness, Your Honor, Lord Justiciar,

    The man Tiverius Zichari was arrested for his ties to the Brotherhood.
    During his apprehension the man repeatedly chanted and motioned with his
    hands. On one occasion he successfully summoned a gale of wind that filled
    the room, but was unable to escape. Multiple other attempts to cast magic
    were made, but were repeatedly foiled through force.

    The arresting officer, Edvard ab Stirke, confronted the man and informed
    him that he was being arrested because of his Brotherhood ties. Upon
    informing the man that he would not be taken alive, the officer attempted
    to use nonlethal force to subdue him, though was unable to. The suspect
    then began chanting and making hand motions, and it is at this point where
    lethal force was used to subdue him.

    His immediate wounds were treated by Lord op Orban after the fact, and
    willowbark tea was given as well. The suspect is now in the tower’s
    solitary confinement cell awaiting further investigation.

    Edvard ab Stirke.

    You examine a piece of mail.

    .:*C*:._.:*O*:._.:*U*:._.:*R*:._.:*I*:._.:*E*:._.:*R*:.
    To : Romana Written: Wed Jun 13 17:00:30 2012
    Date: Votumas, Augustus 5 354

    Your Holiness, Grand Inquisitor, and Lady Earl Marshall, Recently the
    Magnate Tiverius Zichari told me to kill Edvard ab Strike because he was a
    bad part in a plan of his to make much gold. When I declined and turned
    for the door a fire appeared at it blocking my exit. He then told me that
    if I didn’t do it then he would kill my family. Please keep at the most
    secret level for he told me that if I breathed a word of it then he would
    kill my family and make sure they suffered much before.
    Please hurry,
    -wolfe

    Jenifyr reads the mail, then passes it back to Romana von Mestan, nodding at that stage. “Very well.”

    You give a piece of mail to Romana von Mestan.
    You give a piece of mail to Romana von Mestan.

    Romana von Mestan accepts the letters back, setting it away once more, “Shall we move him to the other chamber, Inquisitor? I think that we may have a few more things to discuss for the moment.”

    Jenifyr inclines her head and approaches Tiverius Zichari, “Of course, your Holy Honor.” She reaches up to take Tiverius Zichari’ chains from the hook on the wall.
    Tiverius Zichari asks, “May I have some form of garment as well?”

    Jenifyr muses to Romana von Mestan, “Do you have manacles?”

    Romana von Mestan replies with a simple, “No,” to Tiverius Zichari’ request. She offers out a set of manacles to Jenifyr, “Of course, here- I have some spares if you have need.”

    Romana von Mestan gives you a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain.

    Romana von Mestan gets a small iron key for shackles from a small ring of keys.
    Romana von Mestan gives you a small iron key for shackles.

    Jenifyr smiles faintly at Tiverius Zichari, “I rather like the view, if I do say so myself.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice as she moves to secure his wrists with manacles before removing the chains.

    Jenifyr withdraws a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain and motions for Tiverius Zichari to put his hands together.

    Tiverius Zichari places his hands out, wrists together, and nods to you.
    You fastens a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain around

    Tiverius Zichari’s wrists.
    Tiverius Zichari now follows you.

    Jenifyr re-hooks the chains back to the wall when Tiverius Zichari is secure and looks to Romana von Mestan, “Your Holy Honor, shall we?”

    You now follow Romana von Mestan.
    Romana von Mestan unlocks the southern door.
    Romana von Mestan begins to move south.
    Romana von Mestan crosses the center of the room.
    Romana von Mestan opens the southern door.
    Romana von Mestan leaves south.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves south.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves south.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    You leave south, her movements naturally tranquil.
    You come to a halt.

    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    (The room has been cleaned, at least. It still smells awful, though. )

    [ Exits: north -east- -south- -west- -down- ]
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southwest corner.

    (southwestern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southeast corner.

    (southeastern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northwest corner.
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northeast corner.

    (northeastern corner)
    A swinging cage of iron bars is hung in the center of the room. (center)
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    Romana von Mestan is here. [App: 2]
    A heavy-set, attentive guard watches the prisoners for signs of wrongdoing.
    You have arrived.

    Tiverius Zichari arrives from the north.
    Tiverius Zichari slows to a halt.
    Romana von Mestan closes the northern door.
    Romana von Mestan locks the northern door.
    Romana von Mestan unlocks the western door.
    Romana von Mestan begins to move west.
    Romana von Mestan opens the western door.
    Romana von Mestan leaves west.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves west.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves west.
    You leave west, her movements naturally tranquil.
    You come to a halt.

    The Interrogation Chambers
    [Pleasant]
    The purpose of this room is immediately evident, an interrogation
    chamber containing all of the devices common in such practice. The initial
    half appears relatively benign. A single, uncomfortable looking, stool
    faces a heavy wood table that fronts a large chair, almost akin to a
    throne. Light streams from torches behind the interrogator’s seat, leaving
    it shadowed and the stool well exposed. Towards the rear of the room, its
    grisly use becomes more apparent. A large oven is stoked with burning
    coals with a rack of painful looking iron instruments standing nearby.
    Benches line the wall with complex restraints or leather, rope, and steel,
    though all are dwarfed by the rack that stands center. Shelves and racks
    display the tools of the inquisitor’s trade, artfully displayed to evoke
    the maximum of terror.

    (Rows of wicked looking tools with dubious purpose lay rolled out across
    the flat tables. A stone oven blazes with heat, two hot pokers shoved into
    its smouldering coals, and a bucket of water rests to the right of the
    questioning chair. )

    [ Exits: east ]
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    Romana von Mestan is here. [App: 2]

    You have arrived.
    Tiverius Zichari arrives from the east.
    Tiverius Zichari slows to a halt.
    Romana von Mestan closes the eastern door.
    Romana von Mestan locks the eastern door.

    Romana von Mestan comments, “Inquisitor, please ensure the good Magnate’s comfort?”

    She walks across the room, seating herself at a desk overlooking the center of the room and the chair within it, spreading open her small dossier.

    Jenifyr leads Tiverius Zichari to the chair and gestures for him to be seated, “Please, have a seat Master Zichari.”

    Tiverius Zichari moves to take a seat.
    Tiverius Zichari winces in pain as the shackles cut into his skin.
    Tiverius Zichari shakes his head, “I’m afraid I’m not able to. The bonds are painful.”

    Romana von Mestan settles into her chair, ankles crossing before she speaks up,

    “Magnate Zichari, we will now put a set of questions to you. Please recall that we are within the sight of the Lord of the Springs and that truth is commanded of you.”

    She ritually makes the Sign of the Chalice as if consecrating that which is to come.

    “Sit down,” Jenifyr says with a firm tone of authority, clearly expecting Tiverius Zichari to ignore the pain of the shackles. She says to Romana von Mestan whilst awaiting Tiverius Zichari to seat himself, “I shall prepare a ledger and quill for this discussion at once, your Holy Honor.” [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari takes a seat in the chair, the shackles cutting into his skin a bit.

    Tiverius Zichari nods at Romana von Mestan. “Of course, I am a humble servant of the Lord.” A slight trickle of blood comes from his ankles.

    Jenifyr kneels before Tiverius Zichari’ naked form and begins to strap him into the chair, ankles first. Following this, she moves to strap Tiverius Zichari about the upper calf, just below the knee. Next, his wrists, and right below the elbow. When these are done, she moves to release his manacles.

    Romana von Mestan nods to Jenifyr, “Thank you, Inquisitor.” Tiverius Zichari receives a bland smile in response to his words. A few pages within her dossier are flipped, showing a few pieces of mail, “Then let us begin. Magnate Zichari, what have you heard and what do you know of these ‘extra judicial’ activities, as you say, of Edvard ab Stirke? Please expand with details.”

    Jenifyr stands very near Tiverius Zichari.

    [Action: Tiverius Zichari is strapped to a chair, his ankles bleeding a bit.]

    [Action: Romana von Mestan is seated at a desk overlooking Tiverius Zichari and the room at large.]

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan and nods, looking a bit worried he says,

    “Edvard ab Stirke is treacherous. He holds office as Judge and also works with the Brotherhood of Common Goods. The Brotherhood has used his help to avoid incarceration and get information regarding patrols and security.

    Meanwhile, Jenifyr gently grasps Tiverius Zichari’ head, positioning it within the cage, then closing the cage and strapping the strap around his forehead and neck. She works quietly whilst Romana von Mestan questions Tiverius Zichari. The very last straps are two about Tiverius Zichari’s torso, one high about the chest, and the other lower, about the waist. Jenifyr leans over Tiverius Zichari as she completes the last. [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari looks around with a look of dread on his face.

    Jenifyr reaches up to pick up a lock of Tiverius Zichari’ hair, and tickles him under the chin with it, “Don’t you worry, Master Zichari, these precautions are for our safety. Provided you tell no lies and honestly confess your sins, the Review of Faith will remain a matter of conversation before the eyes of the Lord of the Springs.”

    Tiverius Zichari swallows hard, and gives a short, restrained, nod.

    Romana von Mestan nods to herself, “You came across this information through your own position within the Brotherhood, Master Magnate?” She lifts a pair of fingers as she adds, “Please note that the activities of the Brotherhood are not of grave concern to the Holy Office.” She offers a brief nod to Jenifyr, ghosting a smile at her words.

    Jenifyr drops the lock of hair and moves over to the table to pick up a ledger and begin to prepare a quill, “I will keep record, your Holy Honor.” She smiles at

    Tiverius Zichari, the expression collected and reassuring as she adds, “Indeed, our duty is to seek out magery and save souls, Master Zichari. You’ve nothing to fear from us.”

    Tiverius Zichari nods at Romana von Mestan “Yes, through my observations and dealings with the Brotherhood of Common Goods I came to this conclusion.

    Romana von Mestan rises to her feet with a nod, glancing briefly at her book and then rounding the table. As she leans back against it, arms folding, she asks, “Now then- tell me what happened when ab Stirke came to arrest you? Was he alone? What happened?”

    You think to yourself, “He is mighty handsome… shame he’s a mage.”

    Tiverius Zichari claims, “I was sitting at the bar area of the Divine, when Edvard ab Stirke entered. When I turned to face him, I saw him wedge the door closed with a knife. By this time, I had figured he planned to kill me.”

    Jenifyr begins to jot down notes in her ledger as Tiverius Zichari speaks, eyes moving up to look him over now and again. She seems content at this stage to follow Romana von Mestan’s lead.

    Romana von Mestan nods along with Tiverius Zichari, “Go on, Master Zichari. What happened from that point on up to your arrival, here, at the tower?”

    Tiverius Zichari claims, “At that time, I drew my mace to defend myself, but he was already upon me with his axe. I tried desperately to flee, but he proved to be too strong. I drew my mace and we began fighting, I believe that is where the damage to the Divine occured.”

    Jenifyr inquires out of the blue, “Was there a fire, Master Zichari?”

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Jenifyr “A fire? No, there was no fire that I was aware of.” He looks around the room for a moment, “Though after the attack I was losing blood quickly.”

    Romana von Mestan tilts her head curiously, and then queries, “Mm. What evidence do you believe that Master ab Stirke has given to the Holy Office that you are a mage?”

    Tiverius Zichari shakes his head, “I do not know.”

    Tiverius Zichari states, “I have always been a faithful Davite, and hard-working Vandagan. I admit that I may consort with thieves, but never demons.”

    Jenifyr rises from her seat and goes to the door, saying through the bars, “Guardsman, please inform the Order that Inquisitor von Vakhrova requests an acolyte attend the Divine Wines and report back the nature of the damage that is there.” [RPA]

    Romana von Mestan smiles at Tiverius Zichari, “I’m pleased to hear that, Master Zichari. Tell me… why did you attempt to fight off ab Stirke when he came to arrest you?”

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan “Arrest me? I thought he was their to kill me.”

    Romana von Mestan nods, “Hmm, very well then.” Her lips purse in thought, “Let us move aside from Stirke for a moment or two- kindly tell us of your relationship with Wolfe Journier.”

    Tiverius Zichari gets a look of disgust on his face for a moment, before returning to an uncomfortable scowl, “Wolfe Journier is a scoundrel who threw a knife at me at the Half-Pint Inn, and still despises me even though I saw to it that he receive an education. In short, he despises me.’

    Romana von Mestan considers this, “What manner of education do you refer to, and how did that come to pass? Why would you say that he despises you?”

    Jenifyr frowns slightly, “A lot of people seem to despise you, Master Zichari. Why is that?”

    Tiverius Zichari gets a look of shock on his face, “I was well liked among the people of the City before this travesty occurred, and my name slandered.”

    “What travesty?” Jenifyr requests elaboration. [Jenifyr]

    Romana von Mestan folds her arms once more, a crease forming in her brow as she looks on- silent for the moment.

    Tiverius Zichari says, “The false accusations being brought against me are a travesty. I am glad that Your Holiness is here to sort the matter out.”

    Jenifyr comments thoughtfully, “I believe it’s clear that we’ve stumbled on a war between members of the Brotherhood. What I’m not sure I’m convinced of is that these accusations are false. Afterally, Edvard ab Stirke is a member of the Reeves. If he wanted you arrested or executed, there’s little need to involve the Holy Order.”

    Romana von Mestan smiles pleasantly at Tiverius Zichari, the expression lingering a little too long to be natural. She nods at Jenifyr’s words in thoughtful consideration, retaining her silence for now, as she allows her fellow Inquisitor to take the lead for the moment.

    Tiverius Zichari shakes his head, “Of course he would want to involve the Holy Order. Perhaps he is the mage. Or perhaps the bartender who was working was. I can only say that I am not a mage.”

    “Why would he want to involve the Holy Order? Also, what evidence of a mage’s presence was there?” Jenifyr inquires, scribbling notes down in her ledger as she speaks. [Jenifyr]

    Romana von Mestan straightens a little at the course of the discussion.

    Tiverius Zichari says, “To displace suspicion of his own heresies upon me.”

    Tiverius Zichari looks to Jenifyr “I do not know, I was losing blood very quickly due to my wounds.’

    Jenifyr glances to Romana von Mestan, “Your Holy Honor, I feel there is something strange about this conversation, but it is hard for me to pinpoint.”

    A knock sounds at the east, calling, “Inquisitor?”

    Romana von Mestan nods at Jenifyr, “Indeed, yes. It is the choice answering of questions in the hope that what goes unanswered is not noticed or challenged against the depths of what IS answered.” Her eyes rove towards the door curiously.

    Tiverius Zichari wonders, “Strange? Have I not answered your questions with full devotion?”

    “Yes?” Jenifyr responds to the knock and call. “Who is it?” [Jenifyr]

    “I’ve checked the Divine as you requested, Inquisitor,” the voice answers. “Did you want my report now?”

    Romana von Mestan comments to Jenifyr, “He can make the report in here, Inquisitor. I think that will suffice, yes?”

    Jenifyr rises from her seat, leaving her ledger open, and approaches the door to unlock it and open it. She says to Romana von Mestan and Tiverius Zichari, “Please excuse me, I rather believe I ought to hear this in private.”

    The key turns easily, unlocking the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You begin to move east.
    You open the eastern door.
    You leave east, her movements naturally tranquil.

    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    (The room has been cleaned, at least. It still smells awful, though. )

    [ Exits: -north- -east- -south- west -down- ]
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southwest corner.

    (southwestern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southeast corner.

    (southeastern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northwest corner.
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northeast corner.

    (northeastern corner)
    A swinging cage of iron bars is hung in the center of the room. (center)
    A heavy-set, attentive guard watches the prisoners for signs of wrongdoing.
    You have arrived.

    You close the western door.
    The key turns easily in the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    An acolyte stands outside, bowing as Jenifyr emerges.

    You will now speak Lithmorran.

    Jenifyr gives the acolyte a kindly smile, “Thank you for your prompt investigation, my child. Please, tell me what your investigation uncovered?”

    “There weren’t any burns, Inquisitor. I looked very carefully… but there was things strewn every which way, like by a gust of wind, and that’s what the barkeeper Wes said happened… there was a sudden gust inside at the bar that didn’t seem natural at all,” the acolyte explains, bowing again. He looks a bit unsettled by the words.

    Jenifyr smiles warmly, and reaches out to pat the acolyte’s shoulder, “You did a good job. Anything else to report before I continue with my duties, child?”

    “Also.. there was a notch in the door, like it got wedged.. and blood spattered every which way.. on the roof and walls.. and mostly in a spot in the center.. and shattered glass…” the acolyte stammers on, gulping.

    Jenifyr smiles tranquilly, “It sounds like a real mess. The bartender was present, was he? Did he say if he felt either of the two men present appeared to be responsible for the gust of wind?”

    “He couldn’t say, Inquisitor,” the acolyte answers, shaking his head. “I’m sorry… he was very unsettled by it, understandably.”

    Jenifyr nods again, “Indeed, I believe it is completely understandable. Is there anything else to report, or shall I let you be on your way? I’ll recommend your work to the Grand Inquisitor, by the by. It is appreciated.”

    “No, Inquisitor, nothing else,” the acolyte reports quickly.

    Jenifyr inclines her head, “Farewell, then. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She then turns to re-enter the cells.

    The key turns easily, unlocking the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You begin to move west.
    You open the western door.
    You leave west, her movements naturally tranquil.

    The Interrogation Chambers
    [Pleasant]
    The purpose of this room is immediately evident, an interrogation
    chamber containing all of the devices common in such practice. The initial
    half appears relatively benign. A single, uncomfortable looking, stool
    faces a heavy wood table that fronts a large chair, almost akin to a
    throne. Light streams from torches behind the interrogator’s seat, leaving
    it shadowed and the stool well exposed. Towards the rear of the room, its
    grisly use becomes more apparent. A large oven is stoked with burning
    coals with a rack of painful looking iron instruments standing nearby.
    Benches line the wall with complex restraints or leather, rope, and steel,
    though all are dwarfed by the rack that stands center. Shelves and racks
    display the tools of the inquisitor’s trade, artfully displayed to evoke
    the maximum of terror.

    (Rows of wicked looking tools with dubious purpose lay rolled out across
    the flat tables. A stone oven blazes with heat, two hot pokers shoved into
    its smouldering coals, and a bucket of water rests to the right of the
    questioning chair. )

    [ Exits: east ]
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    A tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    Romana von Mestan is seated at a desk overlooking Tiverius Zichari and the room at
    large. [App: 2]
    Tiverius Zichari is strapped to a chair, his ankles bleeding a bit. [App: 3]
    He is stark naked.
    You have arrived.

    [RPxp: average] [HP:perfect MV:weary P:walk] (dirty)(Diremote)
    lock east
    It’s not closed. Attempting to close.
    You close the eastern door.
    The key turns easily in the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Romana von Mestan purses her lips, “Where did this occur, out of interest?”

    Tiverius Zichari states, “As I said, The Communal Gardens.”

    Tiverius Zichari states, “A common meeting place for the Brotherhood.”

    Romana von Mestan nods slowly, glancing to Jenifyr for a moment as the other woman reenters. “I see. What of the fire that arose around the exit to the Gardens?”

    Jenifyr quietly retakes her seat and picks up her quill once more.

    Tiverius Zichari claims, “A fire? I did not see any fire.”

    Romana von Mestan ‘s fingers interlace together, thumbs tapping against one another.

    “That is not as our witness reports it, sadly.” She glances at Inquisitor, “Inquisitor. Would you care to continue along your previous line from before the interruption?”

    Tiverius Zichari looks over to Jenifyr for a moment.

    You will now speak Vandagan.

    Jenifyr inclines her head to Romana von Mestan and observes Tiverius Zichari, “When you fought Edvard ab Stirke, it seems to me that you made a mention of magic being present, but we never seemed to really understand this. The bartender reports that there most definitely was a mage present, but not specifically which of you it was. What can you tell us of the magic present, what was it?”

    Tiverius Zichari states, “I saw nothing peculiar in the area, other than Edvard ab Stirke barring the exit and wielding an axe. By the time our fighting was done, I was severely wounded.”

    Romana von Mestan sighs heavily, rising once more to her feet and crossing the room towards where some of the implements can be found- she peruses them thoughtfully as

    Jenifyr goes about her business.

    Tiverius Zichari says, “You must have seen the blood… I still have fresh scars.”

    Jenifyr nods to Romana von Mestan, then says frankly, “I believe that you are a mage, Master Zichari, as deeply as it wounds me to think it of one of our own Vandagans.

    You see, we’ve multiple accounts that you are a mage, and I don’t believe that this is as simple as Edvard ab Stirke and Wolfe Journier despising you. I’ve also a report from someone else that a ‘man with long, dark curly hair’ or something of the sort, cast a gateway spell and disappeared before the witness was observed. I daresay, you do match that description.”

    Tiverius Zichari exclaims, “This is proposterous! This is a conspiracy! Set up by the Brotherhood! You must believe me!”

    Romana von Mestan takes down a mallet of the sort that a builder may use in their trade. She smiles momentarily at Jenifyr’s comments as she steps back towards the center of the room. “When did you first come into contact with the taint of magery,

    Master Zichari? I would posit also, that your ‘reward’ was a thinly veiled attempt to find mages or recruit and pervert faithful Davites into your heretical servants.”

    “Who are all the members of the Brotherhood? If this last person is a member of the

    Brotherhood, then I’ll consider what you say, otherwise, I believe that your basis is false,” Jenifyr replies evenly, her calm tone a stark difference to Tiverius Zichari’s agitated response. [Jenifyr]

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan “The Reward? That was to bring the Guild of Merchant’s back into good standing after being infected by that witch Kassia! His eyes dart to Jenifyr before saying, “I cannot say. Their faces remain covered during the meetings. Only by investigation did I discover the identities of Edvard ab Stirke and Wolfe Journier.”

    “So you know of no other members?” Jenifyr wonders aloud. [Jenifyr]

    Romana von Mestan makes a derisive sound, “Nothing is done regarding a mage without speaking to the Holy Office first. Nothing at all. That is a pure and plain heresy, Master Zichari.” She steps closer to Tiverius Zichari.

    Tiverius Zichari shakes his head, “I do not… There was a woman involved. But I don’t know her name or face.”

    Tiverius Zichari pontificates, “I wrote a letter! I remember! I wanted to set up a meeting. It was only for the good of the city. Please believe me!”

    Tiverius Zichari states, “I even stated the information be sent to the Knights, so that I would only be in charge of the reward.”

    Romana von Mestan shakes her head, “Too late, your letter- I had to approach you after finding the notice.” She raises her arm, grits her teeth and takes aim at

    Tiverius Zichari’ left kneecap with the heavy mallet that she has in hand. “When did you first come across taint, Master Zichari?” the question comes quickly at the tail of the aimed blow.

    Jenifyr picks up a scroll, rolled together on two long and heavy rods, which she unrolls. She lays it flat on the table, then dips her quill in, scrawling ‘Tiverius

    Zichari’ on a line at the top, then coming over to Tiverius Zichari. She presses the quill into his hand and says, “Master Zichari, you are clearly a heretic and mage. This is a confession. Please sign it and save your immortal soul.”

    Tiverius Zichari screams in agony, “Please, I am not tainted! Please!” A gasp of agony escapes his breath, “Please… no more.”

    Jenifyr offers the scroll where there’s a line for signature to Tiverius Zichari, “Sign, Master Zichari, and it’s all over.”

    Tiverius Zichari writhes in the chair, his massive muscles straining against the straps of the chair.

    Romana von Mestan puts the hammer aside, but then begins to probe Tiverius Zichari’ kneecap firmly with her fingertips, “Who else do you know that practices magic?”

    Tiverius Zichari writhes in pain, his face is pale and blood pours from his lip from an apparent bite. “Please, I am not a mage… I don’t know.’

    Jenifyr shakes her head, “Your Holy Honor, before we proceed further, might we take a moment to speak in private?” She places the confession under Tiverius Zichari’s hand with the quill.

    Tiverius Zichari grips the paper and quill weakly, before looking up at Jenifyr. “Please…”

    Tiverius Zichari weeps pitifully.

    Romana von Mestan nods to Jenifyr, “Of course, Inquisitor. Outside? I believe he will be well enough secured here-” She nods to her guards, “Gentlemen, stay here and observe this poor soul.” She watches Jenifyr and the quill.

    Jenifyr nods. She points to the confession scroll beneath Tiverius Zichari’ hands,

    “Sign that, Master Zichari. We will only be a moment.”

    The key turns easily, unlocking the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You begin to move east.
    You open the eastern door.
    You leave east, her movements naturally tranquil.

    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    (The room has been cleaned, at least. It still smells awful, though. )

    [ Exits: -north- -east- -south- west -down- ]
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southwest corner.

    (southwestern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southeast corner.

    (southeastern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northwest corner.
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northeast corner.

    (northeastern corner)
    A swinging cage of iron bars is hung in the center of the room. (center)
    A heavy-set, attentive guard watches the prisoners for signs of wrongdoing.

    You have arrived.
    Romana von Mestan arrives from the west.
    Romana von Mestan slows to a halt.

    You close the western door.
    The key turns easily in the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Jenifyr folds her arms and leans back against the wall, “What do you think? I think we ought to either determine he is a mage – which I’m not certain if we have enough evidence for – and burn him, or we release him. I’d rather not torture him unless we were fully certain.”

    Romana von Mestan folds her arms, “He seemed to be about to sign your confession, Inquisitor. On the other hand, I am not entirely convinced- however, if we do not wish to consign him to the flame, I do not wish him released until the Reeves have dealt with him- they clearly have their own interests here.”

    Jenifyr scowls, “You mean the Brotherhood posing as Reeves does. That’s a perversion of justice if there ever was one. Edvard ab Stirke, indeed.”

    Romana von Mestan purses her lips, “Yes, indeed- however, that is not our place to judge. It is not the Holy Office’s concern in any case, and we don’t need the reputational damage- not for this man at the very least.”

    Jenifyr replies, “I think we’ll take reputational damage if we do the Brotherhood’s dirty work for them.”

    Romana von Mestan comments, “Indeed. It is of some concern to me that both of those testifying are members of the Brotherhood. The Poet Laudate has written me privately to protest her own marriage in the wake of it. I am content to put him away and wash our hands of it.”

    Jenifyr nods solemnly, “Then let us do that. Unless, of course, he signs the confession.” Jenifyr turns to re-enter the room.

    The key turns easily, unlocking the western door with an Ahalin Tower key.
    You move towards the west.
    You have reached your target.
    You begin to move west.
    Romana von Mestan begins to move west.
    You open the western door.
    You leave west, her movements naturally tranquil.

    The Interrogation Chambers
    [Chilly]
    The purpose of this room is immediately evident, an interrogation
    chamber containing all of the devices common in such practice. The initial
    half appears relatively benign. A single, uncomfortable looking, stool
    faces a heavy wood table that fronts a large chair, almost akin to a
    throne. Light streams from torches behind the interrogator’s seat, leaving
    it shadowed and the stool well exposed. Towards the rear of the room, its
    grisly use becomes more apparent. A large oven is stoked with burning
    coals with a rack of painful looking iron instruments standing nearby.
    Benches line the wall with complex restraints or leather, rope, and steel,
    though all are dwarfed by the rack that stands center. Shelves and racks
    display the tools of the inquisitor’s trade, artfully displayed to evoke
    the maximum of terror.

    (Rows of wicked looking tools with dubious purpose lay rolled out across
    the flat tables. A stone oven blazes with heat, two hot pokers shoved into
    its smouldering coals, and a bucket of water rests to the right of the
    questioning chair. )

    [ Exits: east ]
    a tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    a tough-featured bodyguard is here.
    Tiverius Zichari is strapped to a chair, his ankles bleeding a bit. [App: 3]
    He is stark naked.
    You have arrived.

    Romana von Mestan arrives from the east.
    Romana von Mestan slows to a halt.

    You close the eastern door.
    The key turns easily in the eastern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Tiverius Zichari jumps a bit as the eastern door opens.

    Jenifyr stares at Tiverius Zichari and the confession, eyes searching out whether it had been signed in her absence.

    Romana von Mestan walks in, her lips lightly pursed as she surveys Tiverius Zichari.

    [Action: Tiverius Zichari is strapped to a chair, his ankles bleeding along with his knee, an unsigned confession still in his hand.]

    Tiverius Zichari says, “Please… This is a mistake. I am good. I’m not a mage.”

    Jenifyr approaches Tiverius Zichari, picking up a cloth and dampening it in a bucket of water. She kneels beside him and dabs up the blood, then begins to treat his wound, including splinting his leg, “We’ve decided that there is not enough evidence for us to conclude your magery, though I will caution you that this does not mean we believe you to be innocent, Master Zichari. However, we do have reason to believe that your accusers have strife with you, and for that reason, their evidence is suspect.” Jenifyr continues to work on Tiverius Zichari’ wounds, “We have decided to release you to the mercies of the Reeves, as our understanding is that they have a warrant for you as well. Good luck, Master Zichari.” Jenifyr’s blue, blue eyes move up to meet Tiverius Zichari’s

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Romana von Mestan with blood dripping from his lip, he begins to weep as he says, “Thank you… I know I am not a perfect man, but I am not a mage.’

    Romana von Mestan looks to Jenifyr for a thoughtful moment as she hears her words, nodding in agreement, “I would suggest that you pray very hard, Master Mantiff, for the Lord of the Springs to deliver you from your situation. In any case, a doctor will visit shortly to see to your knee, I’m sure. Inquisitor, can you see him back to the cell?”

    Jenifyr nods solemnly to Romana von Mestan, “I can. Please send a guardsman with the doctor to assist me if required,” Jenifyr nods to Romana von Mestan.
    Romana von Mestan nods to Jenifyr and then turns towards the door.

    Romana von Mestan unlocks the eastern door.
    Romana von Mestan begins to move east.
    Romana von Mestan opens the eastern door.
    Romana von Mestan leaves east.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves east.
    A tough-featured bodyguard leaves east.

    The eastern door closes from the other side.
    The bolt in the eastern door slams shut.

    Jenifyr sits down beside Tiverius Zichari, looking him over, then murmurs, “You owe me one, Master Zichari. I just saved you from the pyre. The Grand Inquisitor is a hard woman, and rightly so, but I would not see one of us burn here in Lithmore on accusations made by corrupt individuals.”

    Tiverius Zichari nods to Jenifyr, his face is pale and dirty, “Thank you… I will not forget your mercy.”

    Jenifyr reaches over and slides her hand up Tiverius Zichari’s “It’s not mercy,

    Master Zichari.” She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, then releases him, “I intend to collect on this favor if you escape the Reeves.”

    There’s a knock on the cell doors, and Jenifyr goes to open it, admitting a doctor and the guard sent by the Grand Inquisitor.

    Tiverius Zichari looks at Jenifyr in wonder and nods. “I understand…” He looks warily at Jenifyr before turning his eyes to the doctor.

    “Assist him,” Jenifyr commands the doctor, and settles down to watch as the doctor examines Tiverius Zichari’ wounds, binds him, splints them, and the like. [Jenifyr]

    Eventually the doctor is done and bids Jenifyr farewell, giving instructions to be followed for Tiverius Zichari’ health. [Jenifyr]

    Jenifyr moves to Tiverius Zichari’ side, preparing to reshackle and manacle him.

    Jenifyr finishes unstrapping Tiverius Zichari, and leads him back into the cells…

    Solitary Confinement Cell
    [Pleasant]
    This small cell is little more than a wretched hole, dim and fetid with
    damp. A cold stone floor is littered with a thin layer of rotting straw, a
    reeking chamber pot in one corner and a bucket of fetid water in another.
    The proportions of the cell barely allow for five paces in each direction,
    heavy iron shackles fixed into the northern wall. A heavy wooden door is
    set in the southern wall, reinforced and bolted.

    (This room shows signs of recent inhabitation, and stinks all the more
    for that. )

    [ Exits: south ]
    You have arrived.

    Tiverius Zichari arrives from the south limping on his left knee.
    Tiverius Zichari slows to a halt.

    You close the southern door.
    The key turns easily in the southern door with an Ahalin Tower key.

    Jenifyr gently guides Tiverius Zichari back to the wall, reaching up to hang his manacles up on the hooks.

    Tiverius Zichari watches Jenifyr closely as she moves to lock the chains onto the wall. He waits until she reaches up high enough to lose her balance, before maneuvering to place her into a headlock.

    Contest of Tiverius Zichari’s dexterity vs Jenifyr’s dexterity!
    Jenifyr handily wins!

    Jenifyr seems to somehow read Tiverius Zichari’ intent, and drops his manacles as she easily avoids the attempt. Her eyes narrow and she draws a scalpel from her sleeve,

    “Well, well, well. You know what I call that, Master Zichari? A confession.” And with that, she lunges at Tiverius Zichari.

    You pull out your dagger.

    Jenifyr Jenifyr lunges at Tiverius Zichari with a small scalpel that she drew from her sleeve. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari stops following you.
    Tiverius Zichari has some minor scratches.

    Tiverius Zichari pulls himself into the air by the chains and delivers a brutal kick with his right leg. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari’s hit glances off your body! You have some minor scratches.

    A heavyset, attentive guard pulls out a dagger.

    A heavyset, attentive guard leaps in to Jenifyr’s defense. [Attack]
    A heavyset, attentive guard hits Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari looks lightly wounded.

    Tiverius Zichari cries out in agony as he is stabbed.

    Jenifyr shouts loudly, her eyes glittering in a deadly glare behind her scalpel,

    “Guards! The prisoner is attempting to harm me!” at the top of her lungs, then maneuvers around Tiverius Zichari on his damanged limb to slash at his side. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari appears to be hurt.

    A heavyset, attentive guard lowers his guard slightly, inviting an attack. [Defense]

    Tiverius Zichari delivers a brutal side kick to Jenifyr’s ribs. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari’s hit glances off your body! You have some minor scratches.

    Jenifyr lets out a gasp of pain when her ribs are hit, but swings her arm up in a backhand, the curve of the scalpel sweeping towards the upper muscle in Tiverius

    Zichari’s leg. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s legs!
    Tiverius Zichari appears to be hurt.

    A heavyset, attentive guard pauses for a moment, catching his breath! [Defense]

    Tiverius Zichari jenifyr delivers a straight kick to Jenifyr’s knee [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari misses you! You have some minor scratches.

    Jenifyr shouts again, this time in Lithmorran, “Guards! The prisoner is attempting to escape!” She casts a scowl at a heavyset, attentive guard and evades Tiverius

    Zichari’ attack to step in very close for the purpose of slashing at his body. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari has been wounded.

    A heavyset, attentive guard narrows their eyes slightly, as if planning. [Defense]

    Tiverius Zichari jenifyr Waits for Jenifyr’s attack and delivers a headbutt toward

    Jenifyr’s nose. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari’s hit glances off your head! You have some minor scratches.

    Tiverius Zichari declares, “Call more! When I am free, I will kill them all!”

    Jenifyr ‘s head snaps back and whereas her nose was missed, Tiverius Zichari got a superb smack on her cheek. She reaches up to hold her face while she wildly swings her arm to slash at the naked prisoner, saying in a low, deadly voice, “You’re going to regret that, Master Zachari.” [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s head!
    Tiverius Zichari looks badly injured.

    A heavyset, attentive guard rushes in, weapon drawn, yelling, “Inquisitor!” And he rushes to Jenifyr’s defense swinging. [Attack]
    A heavyset, attentive guard hits Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari has been mauled.

    The guard left the door hanging open.

    Jenifyr shouts, “Lock the door, you idiot!” as she attempts to position herself between Tiverius Zichari and the door with yet another slash. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari has been mauled.

    Tiverius Zichari delivers a knee to Jenifyr’s ribs again. Blood trickles from his many wounds and he looks very pale, but enraged. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari’s hit glances off your body! You have some minor scratches.

    The guards backs off again for the moment, locking the door behind.

    A heavyset, attentive guard hacks fiercely at Tiverius Zichari! [Attack]
    A heavyset, attentive guard hits Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari looks pretty mangled.

    A heavyset, attentive guard smiles grimly at the situation. [Defense]

    Tiverius Zichari spits blood at Jenifyr as he manuvers his good leg to strike Jenifyr’s chest. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari misses you! You have some minor scratches.

    Jenifyr clutches her ribs with her left hand as she swings valiantly at Tiverius

    Zichari with her right, remarkably relaxed. Her eyes are collected, and there’s no panic in her. It’s clear this woman is trained in fighting. Her next slash is to Tiverius Zichari’ face. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s head!
    Tiverius Zichari appears to be crippled from his injuries.

    A heavyset, attentive guard raises the weapon high, launching an overhead slash! [Attack]
    A heavyset, attentive guard hits Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari is impaired by his injuries.
    A heavyset, attentive guard stretches their arms for a second, then returns to guard. [Defense]

    Jenifyr flicks blood from her blade and reaches out to slash Tiverius Zichari’s opposite cheek with a backhanded return slash from her previous hit. [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s head!
    Tiverius Zichari is impaired by his injuries.

    Tiverius Zichari screams out in agony, the many wounds wracking his body in pain and sapping his strength. He delivers a strong kick toward Jenifyr’s knee again. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari’s hit glances off your legs! You have some minor scratches.

    A heavyset, attentive guard circles, waiting for an opening. [Defense]

    A heavyset, attentive guard readies themselves for incoming attacks. [Defense]

    Jenifyr barely flinches and drives her scalpel for Tiverius Zichari’ ribs this time.

    [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    Tiverius Zichari has been mortally wounded.

    Tiverius Zichari waits for Jenifyr to come in close, and throws his full force into a

    headbutt before sliding down the wall. [Attack]
    Tiverius Zichari misses you! You have some minor scratches.

    Jenifyr adds another slice to her previous attack with a delicate flurry of strikes.

    [Attack]
    You hit Tiverius Zichari’s body!
    A heavyset, attentive guard tucks his dagger in his belt.
    A heavyset, attentive guard tucks his dagger in his belt.
    Tiverius Zichari is incapacitated and will slowly die, if not aided.
    Tiverius Zichari has been mortally wounded.

    With one smooth, cruel strike, you end their life.

    Jenifyr straightens up and wipes the blood off on her sleeve where it doesn’t show.

    You finally relax after your combat.

    Jenifyr thanks the guards, then gestures to the corpse, “Clean that up, if you will.”

    “Doing what with it, Inquisitor?” one of the guards asks. [Temi]

    Jenifyr replies, “Burn the body, turn the bones to ash. Then bury anything left over in an unmarked grave.”

  • Evidence

    Comments Off on Evidence
    June 5, 2012 /  Inquisitorial Methods

    Evidence

    It is rare that a mage will come to the Holy Order and confess their
    taint, though it does happen upon occasion. Rather, the Inquisitor must
    expertly investigate, sorting through often inconclusive evidence to
    determine the truth. This is why the training to Inquisitor is long and
    comprehensive, to prevent the mob thought and fear of mages to take over.
    Remember, even a mage is a member of our congregation, and our duty is to
    save their souls, not punish them for their crimes. Punishment is for
    mortal law, the Holy Order offers redemption.

    Accusations

    The foremost type of evidence that the Inquisitor will manage on a day to
    day business is the accusation. In truth, an accusation usually should
    simply begin a file on the subject and open an investigation. Not all, or
    even most, accusations warrant deep investigation. However, depending on
    the nature of the claims and the likelihood that digging deeper will bear
    fruit, it may be appropriate to begin to question third parties to gain
    testimonials.

    Beware the accuser. Often enough, accusations are made for the benefit of
    the accuser more than out of piety. Accusations should be tested for
    veracity before being used as the basis of a Review of Faith.

    Accusations where the accuser is known and will put their own reputation on
    the line to state something is true to the Holy Order have more weight than
    those from anonymous sources. Those caught lying to the Holy Order,
    especially about sins such as magery, have committed a grave sin indeed.

    Testimonials

    The difference between an accusation and a testimonial is whom initiates
    the exchange of information. Only when an Inquisitor has requested a
    statement themselves from a witness, and the Inquisitor is reasonably
    certain that the statement has not been compromised, can information
    regarding a party rightly be considered a testimonial.

    Testimonials can easily be damaged by impure motives or predisposed
    knowledge of an accusation. Simply knowing that an investigation exists
    may taint a witness’ testimonial beyond holy truth.

    It is the Inquisitors duty to treat every conversation, no matter how great
    or small, as a subtle interview to seek out the true value of spirit behind
    the flesh’s obfuscating mask. In this, beware of false paths and protect
    the witness from knowledge that may pervert the their testimonial.

    Also, remember, even when priestly cohorts do not, that the confessional is
    sealed by the Lord of the Springs, and no evidence gained from within those
    sacred walls may be used in an investigation.

    Physical Evidence

    Occasionally, the Inquisitor will come across physical evidence, such as a
    mage caught casting in the act, having unusual corporeal attributes such as
    pink eyes, or carrying enchanted objects. These instances are both a
    blessing, for it simplifies cases dramatically, and a curse, as the taint
    most virulently touches those around it.

    Objects collected when this sort of evidence is in play must be either
    summarily destroyed or placed within the Holy Orders vault if deemed too
    powerful or dangerous to burn.

    Writings and books, depending on the nature of their content, may be
    preserved in the vaults or burned, depending on how tainted they be.

    Patterns

    The most important, and often the true basis upon which a case is built are
    patterns. Like dropping a pebble in a pond and watching the ripples in
    their uniform motion, one can see the patterns in the behavior and actions
    of individuals.

    Some of the more obvious patterns that indicate taint are “known
    associations” we all know that birds of a feather flock together, so the
    friend of a heretic or mage is likely a mage themselves. Likewise, those
    commonly showing their faces near trouble are likely candidates. The
    Inquisitor must investigate these individuals and search for patterns that
    reveal the truth.

    Before arresting a suspected mage or heretic to put them to the Review, the
    wise Inquisitor orders them to be watched and followed so that known
    associations and patterns may be observed.

  • Forward

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    June 5, 2012 /  Inquisitorial Methods

    This manual, the Inquisitor’s Method, aims to educate select members of the Holy Order who seek to become avatars of The Inquisition.

    It acts as a reference guide for the both ceremonies and practices of Inquisitors from the far reaches of the Realm in ensuring the safety of the populace and cleansing the taint of magery wherever it be found.

    Here is a brief outline of the topics explained within this book:

    • Evidence
    • Handling Informants
    • Sharing Information & Reporting
    • Inquisitorial Files & Administration
    • Issuing Warrants
    • The Review of Faith
      • Personal Safety
      • Interrogation Techniques
      • The Use of Torture
    • Repentence & Cleansing Rituals
    • References

    May this manual serve the purpose of the Lord of the Springs in its entirety.

    In faith,
    Jenifyr von Vakhrova
    Inquisitor of the Holy Order

  • Oh, the tangled web we weave….

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    May 31, 2012 /  Diary

    Dear Diary,

    I’ve two cases in my lap, having only been in Lithmore for as many weeks. In Vandago, it feels like there’s always a backlog. Are Lithmorrans better at hiding their heresies than Vandagans? I’ve held four interviews thus far, and Lithmorrans appear to be less canny on the whole than I expected. Given their numerous restraints, this disingenuity is either the most clever of ruses, or Lithmorrans are better liars than Vavardi courtesans.

    In any case, I have enough to work on as this one case is particularly intricate. Two accusations, both pointing to the other, and of course, the most interesting associations.

    I dare not be too detailed here, as who knows who might steal these words, but rest assured that my entertainment shall continue long into the night.

    Oh, and my book is going well. Inquisitorial Methods, I’ve decided to call it, and I’ve already interviewed His Eminence, Johnan ab Petrum. He told me a story of when he was an Inquisitor serving under Bishop ab Venel. The focus of his questioning was far different than I myself would have chosen, but deeply interesting none-the-less. I’ve a hope of asking His Eminence to introduce me to other Lithmorran Orderites or friends. He must be influential and know many like people that it would be wise of me to meet.

    In any case, I am pondering the morality of allowing a mage to live long enough to assist in saving the souls of their fellows. Oh, we hear about it all the time, and the Holy Inquisition has recently re-emphasized the immorality of requesting informants infiltrate covens as it exposes those souls to taint. But a mage is already tainted, are they not? Of course, the reputational damage should the release of a mage ever be discovered – why, I do believe there’s a former Grand Inquisitor already in trouble for that very same thing. There’s a branding in her future, if you ask me.

    I love my work, I truly do.

  • The Inquisition of Kassia Sauniere

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    May 19, 2012 /  Inquisitions, Logs

    [This is the story of the end of Kassia Sauniere, an archmage named Crow. I understand she confessed by putting her own hand to paper, but I never saw them. Though I wondered at the circumstances, I did not let my curiosity get the better of me.

    My orders were to only speak with Kassia Sauniere, but not to burn her. My superiors believed she could lead them to other mages, and whereas they trusted me to ask her questions, they wanted her alive. They were to be disappointed.]

    (OOC: Log is from the point of view of Kassia Saunierre. Thank you for sharing, Kassia!)

    The sound of rain patters outside.

    The bolt in the southern door slides open.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes arrives from the south, her movements naturally tranquil.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes slows to a halt.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes closes the southern door.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes locks the southern door.

    Kassia is in the southwestern cell, trussed in the usual style for mages. She looks, in a word, terrible; a film of sweat covers her skin, flushed unhealthy pink under its dark color, and her mouth is bizarrely swollen around its gag. Her body hangs limply in the shackles, her breathing a slow, audible effort.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes passes a small satchel to the heavy-set guard when she enters, eyes wandering over the various cells to observe which of the occupants are alert. Calmly, in a moderate tone, she says to the guard, “I am looking for a Miss Kassia Sauniere. Which is she?” a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s gaze passes right over Kassia without a hint of recognition.

    The guard grunts, pointing his thumb toward Kassia. “Ain’t gonna get much outta that one, probably, but that’s her, ma’am. Been sittin there practically decomposin’ in front of all of us.” [Kassia]

    “I see,” a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes replies smoothly, reaching for the chain about her waist and unhooking a set of manacles. She only has the slightest accent, identifiable as Vandagan when she says, “Transfer her to these. I have business with her.” [a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes]

    The guard nods, stepping forth to begin the lengthy process of unfastening Kassia’s bonds. The woman groans as she slumps against the wall, devoid of the support of her chains. While he works, he gruffly tells a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes, “This one can’t talk. Got to leave her her hands to get an answer outta her.” [Kassia]

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes tilts her head, the wimple without an accompanying veil giving the motion a bird-like quality, “Why is that?” Her brows draw gently down with the faintest hint of curiosity. She’s very still, a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes is, between motions.

    Yanking out Kassia’s gag, he bids her, “Open your mouth, lady.” After a shuddering moment, she does so, head tilted back against the cell wall. Her tongue has clearly suffered some relatively recent injury, one that’s gone to putrefaction. Stitches can be barely glimpsed along flesh that’s swollen around them, an angry blood red nigh-black around the wound itself. [Kassia]

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s expression remains clincally frozen whilst her eyes rove over Kassia’s tongue. Finally, she straightens to her full height and reports calmly, “That will kill her shortly, perhaps in the next day, if it is not treated. The most effective treatment will be lancing and cauterization, though I fear it may not be enough. You understand, she must be kept alive until she can be cleansed?” The note of the last question to the guard lifts at the end, as if signifying that she believes he is currently responsible for keeping Kassia alive, and she believes he is not doing a good enough job of it. “She is a soul that must be saved, guardsman. Shackle her and assist me in getting her to the confession chambers, then report to confession yourself when we are done; you have forgotten your Davite duties. Only cruelty would leave any beast to suffer so.”

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes turns her attention thereafter to Kassia, “This will not be at all pleasant, child, but you must survive to be cleansed if you are to rejoin the Lord of the Springs. Come then.” Not an ounce of suspicion in this woman that the guardsman might not obey, or that Kassia could thwart her.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes withdraws a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain and motions for Kassia to put her hands together.

    You place your hands out, wrists together, and nod to a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes fastens a set of heavy iron manacles bound together by a bold chain around your wrists.
    You now follow a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes is glad she can practice on you before getting someone else understanding about how she’s totally not used to this system. (OOC Emote)

    “What was I s’posed to do?” the guard whines peevishly, helping Kassia into the shackles a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes offers; the woman doesn’t fight at all, seemingly not even able to stand of her own accord. Her head lolls, limp and dark curls shadowing it. He’s forced to practically drag her every step of the way. [Kassia]

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes moves ahead of the guard to the main cell door as he pulls Kassia out of the cell, but pauses when she notes that he is literally half-dragging the barely conscious woman, “Report it, of course,” comes a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s cool reply, “Now then, pick her up and carry her. I haven’t all day.”

    The guards grumbles something peevishly, which a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes doesn’t seem to notice, as he picks Kassia up and carries her limp form.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes begins to move west.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes unlocks the western door.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes opens the western door.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes leaves west, her movements naturally tranquil.
    You leave west.
    You come to a halt.

    The Interrogation Chambers
    [Chilly]
    The purpose of this room is immediately evident, an interrogation
    chamber containing all of the devices common in such practice. The initial
    half appears relatively benign. A single, uncomfortable looking, stool
    faces a heavy wood table that fronts a large chair, almost akin to a
    throne. Light streams from torches behind the interrogator’s seat, leaving
    it shadowed and the stool well exposed. Towards the rear of the room, its
    grisly use becomes more apparent. A large oven is stoked with burning
    coals with a rack of painful looking iron instruments standing nearby.
    Benches line the wall with complex restraints or leather, rope, and steel,
    though all are dwarfed by the rack that stands center. Shelves and racks
    display the tools of the inquisitor’s trade, artfully displayed to evoke
    the maximum of terror.

    [ Exits: east ]
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes is here. [App: 2]
    You have arrived.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes closes the eastern door.
    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes locks the eastern door.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes directs the guard to place Kassia in the chair and strap her in completely, then dismisses him with another reminder, “Confession. Tell the roster that a replacement is required for your shift.” Then she locks the door behind him and turns to Kassia, muttering to herself.

    Kassia still doesn’t fight, allowing herself to be settled and strapped down. Only then does she seem to rouse a little from her stupor, murky eyes fever-bright fixing on a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes. She’s breathing harder than ever, as if she’s run several blocks rather than been carried a few rooms.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes walks around Kassia and directly to the oven, taking a metal block that appears to be some sort of flat brand, and placing it into the fire to heat. As she does, she begins to speak, though her words require no answer. More of a monologue, given that it’s entirely possible that Kassia may not be able to interpret or reply, “I am going to lance the poisons in your mouth, remove the rotted portion of your tongue, then cauterize the remains. You will never again speak, but I think that is already the case. You may, however, survive long enough to be saved.” a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes reaches into a black leather medical bag marked with a crimson chalice and removes a scalpel. “Can you hear and understand me? If so, blink twice.”

    Kassia shudders all over at the words, quivering within her bonds – perhaps answering a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s question. All the same, she duly blinks twice in quick succession. An anguished moan escapes her, the trembling continuing.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes bustles about quickly and efficiently, laying out tools, pouring water, and generally preparing with a clear design. She’s stopped speaking, instead concentrating on preparation, until she finally turns her gaze back to Kassia’s face and asks with a hint of inquiry, “Do you wish to live to face the pyre? I am most interested to know. Two blinks for yes, three for no.” There’s no yielding in that question, however. It’s as if a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes can read the future in her own assertions as to how it will be. She will treat Kassia’s wound, Kassia will go to the pyre, simple as that.

    Whilst awaiting Kassia’s response, she takes two wooden sticks about as thick as thumbs into her right hand, and approaches Kassia with them, lifting them up before the girl’s face. Her left hand goes to Kassia’s chin, to open the girl’s mouth, her hands cool and dry on the woman’s flushed face.

    [Action: a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes stands near Kassia, a table of implements laid out in readiness. The oven heats a brand behind them both.]

    Kassia blinks three times, swiftly. Her gaze then follows the motions of a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s preparations, her breath hitching in her throat on what almost might be a sob. She resists for little more than a token second before opening her mouth under a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes’s hands, the smell of the wound thick and revolting at close range.

    A loud knock sounds from the eastern door.

    Action set to:
    Kassia is sitting in the chair, strapped down and trembling.

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes presses the two wooden sticks into the back hinges of Kassia’s mouth, forcing the jaw to remain open for the purpose of the operation, “Yes, well, I suppose that is to be expected.” a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes pauses, frowning at the wound, then turns to her medical bag and produces an herb, which she places against the wound, “I hope that this will numb the pain somewhat, but I fear that it will not be strong enough. You see, few herbs can dull pain to the degree that you shall require, but this might help somewhat, at least.”

    A cool, feminine voice calls, “Yes, who is it?” [Player (RPYell)]

    To the east a man yells, “Cardinal Kibane ab Kagson.”

    “Ahh, Your Holiness, welcome. Do come in, if it pleases you. I’m afraid I cannot come to the door at the moment, I’m performing an operation, and my hands are occupied,” the same voice rejoins. [Player (RPYell)]

    Someone tries to open the eastern door.

    Tears begin to well in exhausted, bloodshot eyes, but they fall in relative silence. Kassia flinches as the herb is touched to her no-doubt tender wound, but doesn’t cry out. She leans back into the seat, breath fluttering unevenly like a broken bird. [Kassia]

    The bolt in the eastern door slides open.

    The eastern door is opened from the other side.
    His Holiness arrives from the east.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes has arrived.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes has arrived.
    His Holiness slows to a halt.
    His Holiness closes the eastern door.

    His Holiness steps quickly into the room, speaking out, “What in the Lord’s name do you mean, operation?”

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes stands with her hands in Kassia’s mouth, which is held open by two thick sticks shoved back into the joint of the jaw. She looks over her shoulder and smiles briefly to golden, “Her tongue, what remains of it, is infected. She is quite feverish – come, have a look? It must be treated, or I doubt she’ll live long enough to make it to the pyre. I intend to lance the putrification, remove the dead flesh, then cauterize it. I’m sorry, your Holiness, it’s my estimation that she will not talk again, but that was already the case – but at least this way it’s hopeful she’ll live to be cleansed as the Lord of the Springs would wish it.”

    Indeed, with Kassia’s mouth open, the gory mess that is a hideously infected wound on her tongue is quite visible. The woman is crying and trembling, but almost steadily – with a certain constant rhythm, her tears falling in silence. [Kassia]

    His Holiness gives a slight sigh at that, taking a moment. “The guards were supposed to keep an eye on her condition.” He moves to come check on Kassia, “Are you the new Inquisator? A doctor on top of that?”

    A narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes turns her attention back to her work as she responds to His Holiness, removing the remains of a numbing herb she had packed onto the wound. “I am Jenifyr von Vakhrova, your Holiness. I hope you have received my letter of introduction?” To His Holiness’s second question, she continues, “No, alas, I am not a doctor, but Her Holy Honor is. I’ve had the honor of studying with her briefly, but by necessity my training does cover many types of wounds. I would be fairly useless with regards to things such as disease, however, and I can barely stitch a straight line.” The herb goes to the side, and a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes takes a graceful scalpel with a finely pointed tip to the wound, slicing the stitching apart and cutting into the purification. She’s not particularly gentle, but nor is she viscous – just extremely collected and competent, and distant.

    From here on you will remember a narrow woman with canted, crystal blue eyes as Jenifyr von Vakhrova.

    Kassia turns her head just slightly to look up at His Holiness. Fever reddens her cheeks and slicks her face with greasy sweat, but there is enough of awareness in her expression to convey a bleak desperation. She stiffens as the scalpel touches her wound, shrieks of pain welling up. She thrashes, but seems to be too weak to move much – a dubious blessing, perhaps.

    His Holiness frowns faintly at this, “What is your opinion of her chances after this operation is complete? How long do you think she’ll last?”

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova daringly reaches into Kassia’s mouth and squeezes her tongue hard, like milking a cow, with her right hand. With her left, she reaches over to pick up a very clean cloth to wipe out the disgusting puss and fluids, including poisoned blood, that come out. “It’s hard to say,” Jenifyr von Vakhrova replies tranquilly, “She does not wish to live, I asked her. That is usually damaging a prognosis, but it depends on whether or not the infection has reached her blood, and if so, how strong her body is to fight off the poison. To prevent shock and allow her body to fight, which thankfully it does whether a person wishes it or not, I would recommend warm quarters, plenty of food, and a comfortable bed – she will require sleep. There are herbs that can assist, but they are not guarantees. It is reasonably probable, however, with these steps…” Jenifyr von Vakhrova finally, painfully, begins to cut away the bad tissue – which sadly is a great portion of the tongue, “… she’ll live. Maybe… seventy-thirty in favor?”

    Any semblance of dignity is long lost now, Kassia shaking and screaming at Jenifyer’s actions. Spasms of pain wrack her body, which seems somewhat shrunken; her clothes hang off muchly reduced curves. Incoherent sounds that might be pleading, but are incomprehensible now, break up the shrieks. [Kassia]

    His Holiness narrows his gaze slightly. He speaks loud enough to be heard, but still fairly softly, “Patch her up well enough to last her to the pyre. We will burn her now. No one who cooperates deserves to suffer like this, and I have her testimony.”

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova nods and replies softly, “As it pleases you, Your Holiness. I shall not cauterize the wound if we will see to that matter now, and I would not expect her to die in that brief a time, provided I can properly stem the blood loss. It is only more pain, though she may blessedly pass out.” This said, instead of reaching for the iron which Jenifyr von Vakhrova had placed into the fire, Jenifyr von Vakhrova fishes into a black leather medical bag marked with a crimson chalice to retrieve some string. This she cuts off at a length about as long as the forearm. She folds it in half, then loops the doubled string around Kassia’s tongue and slides the two loose ends into the loop. Finally, like weaving floss, she pulls it tight, instantly forming a tourniquet. “She shall not bleed to death in the immediate, and the infection won’t kill her if we move within the hour. Do you wish for me to go ring the bells, your Holiness?”

    His Holiness gives a nod towards Jenifyr von Vakhrova, “If you would, I would appreciate it. She has suffered more than enough for coming quietly and answering what was asked of her.”

    The screaming stops as the tourniquet is applied, though Kassia’s every breath sobs. She manages to hold herself still, other than the heaving of her chest, and deliberately lifts her right hand as far as the chair’s straps allow, wiggling the fingers. [Kassia]

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova passes the chains to His Holiness.

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova dips her hands into a bucket of water she had laid out previously in preparation and quickly scrubs them clear of blood. Then, she rises and bows deeply to His Holiness, almost to the floor, “I go now, your Holiness, to obey your wishes. Please cover her and keep her warm until she is on the pyre to prevent shock from taking her.”

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova begins to move east.
    Jenifyr von Vakhrova opens the eastern door.
    Jenifyr von Vakhrova leaves east, her movements naturally tranquil.
    The eastern door closes from the other side.
    The bolt in the eastern door slams shut.

    His Holiness quickly makes a point to put a quill to occupy those wiggling fingers. He also offers a piece of paper under the hand, “Last words, Miss Sauniere? I’m sorry for your suffering.”

    Something almost like a laugh escapes Kassia as she slowly closes her fingers around the quill. “How did you know,” she writes, in a hand that’s so shaky and messy as to be almost illegible. Tears continue to pour down her face. “I wanted to live long enough to see the outcome but it hurts so much. Don’t want anything anymore but for the pain to end. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Please kill me.” [Kassia]

    His Holiness offers a wan smile, reading as best he can as its written. “I wish you could have seen the outcome as well, Miss Sauniere… We go now to purify your soul, whether you believe so or not. May the Lord embrace you and lead you to your… love… when you are gone from this Urth.” He leaves them for Kassia to take if she wishes, but he also moves to help her rise.

    Kassia seems largely unable to stand, but her small form is relatively light, and with support she can be assisted along at an almost drunken stagger. She leaves the paper and quill behind, her eyes half-lidded and moans of discomfort slipping out as she shifts.

    His Holiness motions with one hand for a knight to retrieve the pieces. As he helps Kassia out of the room, he has another guard see to the heated iron and furnace. Barring any complications, he leads Kassia out.

    His Holiness begins to move east.
    His Holiness comes to a stop.
    You’re not moving.

    His Holiness begins to move east.
    His Holiness unlocks the eastern door.
    His Holiness opens the eastern door.
    His Holiness leaves east.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves east.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves east.
    You leave east.
    You come to a halt.

    The Common Cells
    [Unpleasant]
    This expansive stone room has been designed to contain the prisoners of
    Lithmore, whatever their crime. A large common space holds most prisoners,
    stone floor scattered with straw providing an unforgiving surface for rest.
    Edible if unpalatable rations are provided daily through the slit in the
    southern door, a weighty iron affair bolted, banded, and watched over at
    all times by an eagle-eyed guard also watchful for signs of magery. Doors
    are set dead center in each of the walls, similarly reinforced; around
    them, individual cells have been delineated by solid iron bars. Those
    along the east wall are cleaner and boast actual beds, providing minor
    luxuries for ranking prisoners; those along the west wall feature thicker
    bars and stronger manacles, designed for total restraint of dangerous
    inmates. To the west lies the interrogation chamber; to the east, a
    well-appointed solitary cell; to the north, a barer solitary cell; lastly,
    centered in the room, an ominous trapdoor leads into the darkest pits of
    the prison.

    (The room has been cleaned, at least. It still smells awful, though. )

    [ Exits: -north- -east- -south- west -down- ]
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southwest corner. (southwestern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the southeast corner. (southeastern corner)
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northwest corner.
    A barred jail cell keeps a prisoner separate in the northeast corner. (northeastern corner)
    A swinging cage of iron bars is hung in the center of the room. (center)
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    A heavy-set, attentive guard watches the prisoners for signs of wrongdoing.
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness closes the western door.
    His Holiness locks the western door.
    His Holiness begins to move south.
    His Holiness unlocks the southern door.
    His Holiness crosses the center of the room.

    His Holiness opens the southern door.
    His Holiness leaves south.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves south.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves south.

    You cross the center of the room at a walk.

    You leave south.
    You come to a halt.

    The Cellblock
    [Chilly]
    This hallway extends from the winding stairway leading up into a dank,
    foreboding dungeon. To the north an expansive construction of steel bars
    blocks off a large, common cell. The massive steel structure is penetrated
    by a single door embedded into the grating. Above the entrance to the cell
    hangs a small brass plaque marked with the scales of justice. Across from
    the cell reside a small table and a pair of stools, a guard post covered in
    scratches and the stains of spilt wine. The hall continues on to the west,
    the entire length semi-lit with guttering torches. The eastern end of the
    hall terminates at a small wooden door. Another door, oak painted black
    and studded with iron, is set into the southern wall.

    (Several guards keep watch over the cells here, with no evidence of laxity. )

    [ Exits: north -east- ]
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness closes the northern door.
    His Holiness locks the northern door.
    His Holiness begins to move east.
    His Holiness unlocks the eastern door.
    His Holiness crosses the center of the room.
    His Holiness opens the eastern door.
    His Holiness leaves east.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves east.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves east.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    You leave east.
    You come to a halt.

    The Cellblock Antechamber
    [Chilly]
    This small chamber, sealed on both ends with solid and heavy iron-banded
    doors, provides a safety measure between the entry to the holding block and
    the actual cells. Square and constructed of solid stone, it serves as
    little more than another obstacle. Dim candles in wall sconces cast a
    faint, dismal light over the walls and floor. To the east, the door leads
    back out toward the Tower proper; to the west, it provides access to the
    cells.

    [ Exits: -east- west ]
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness closes the western door.
    His Holiness locks the western door.
    His Holiness begins to move east.
    His Holiness unlocks the eastern door.
    His Holiness crosses the center of the room.
    His Holiness opens the eastern door.
    His Holiness leaves east.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves east.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves east.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    You leave east.
    You come to a halt.

    Holding Cell Entry
    [Chilly]
    Heavy stone stairs lead upwards away from the dungeons. Thick stone
    walls encase this ominiously dank entryway to the bowel of the prisons.
    Heavy wooden doors with iron handles sit ominously to the east and west,
    blocking off other areas of the tower. The air reeks heavily of a strong
    musty odor mingled with unwashed bodies.

    [ Exits: -east- west up ]
    A well kept wooden notices board with a metal edging etched with ‘Ahalin Tower’ hangs on the southern wall. (northern edge)
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness closes the western door.
    His Holiness locks the western door.
    His Holiness begins to move up.
    His Holiness leaves up.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves up.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves up.
    You leave up.
    You come to a halt.

    Ahalin Tower
    [Chilly]
    Upon entering, this room presents an imposing vista. Square, it follows
    the dimensions of the tower around it. Austere, the space seems
    exceedingly spare. A massive oak desk rests in the center of the room,
    facing the door. A tall, elaborately carved chair stands behind the desk
    almost like a throne, Hill woodwork dominant upon its backrest. A pair of
    low wooden chairs is positioned before the desk, dwarfed by the massive
    edifice they face. Behind it hangs a great velvet banner that spans nearly
    the entire northern wall. In contrast, the small oaken door beneath the
    banner, leading east into another chamber, is virtually beneath notice.
    Besides the torches that illuminate it, the rest of the room is largely
    bare. A winding set of stairs along one wall is the only other notable
    feature, leading to floors both above and below this one. With close
    observation, a carving can just be seen on the lintel of the eastern door.

    [ Exits: -east- -south- up down ]
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness begins to move south.
    His Holiness unlocks the southern door.
    His Holiness crosses the center of the room.
    His Holiness opens the southern door.
    His Holiness leaves south.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes leaves south.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes leaves south.
    You cross the center of the room at a walk.
    You leave south lurching along unsteadily.
    You come to a halt.

    River Square
    [Chilly, cloudy, slight breeze from the west, evening]
    The stench of the prison tower permeates the area, only barely mitigated
    by the cool swell from the river Bren beyond it to the north. Rough
    cobbles pave the ground, separated by wide cracks, and the entire ground
    slopes towards a grate in the center of the square. Sparse but determined
    weeds creep out of the ground, this square perhaps one of the worst kempt
    in the commerce district of the city. A few Tubori post torches, iron
    cages filled with pitch, jut from the ground about the square, providing
    light in the evening and strange, eye-catching decorations in the day. Set
    up in the center of the square is a large, blood stained chopping block,
    complete with a half circle cut out for the neck.

    [ Exits: north south ]
    A thick wooden post blackened by fire proudly points to the sky.
    A black-haired knight with green eyes is here.
    A blond-haired knight with blue eyes is here.
    His Holiness is here. [App: 3]
    Hawk stands near a short male with gray eyes’s side in silence. [App: 4]
    A short male with gray eyes is standing here, trying to get a good view. [App: 1]
    [AFK] A tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes stands apart from the rest, watching the proceedings. [App: 3]
    Jenifyr von Vakhrova is here. [App: 2]
    A well-defined, blonde haired man with grey eyes is here. [App: 4]
    A medium horse stands here.
    You have arrived.

    His Holiness closes the northern door.
    His Holiness locks the northern door.
    Lady le Storm arrives from the south.
    Lady le Storm slows to a halt.
    Edwynn arrives from the south.
    Edwynn slows to a halt.
    Edwynn sighs heavily.

    “It’s rather cold, Dean Alaric,” Hawk whispers to a short male with gray eyes, the scars on her throat giving her a raspy cast to her voice. She keeps her head turned somewhat, to focus her sighted eye on the Pyre. Edwynn gets a bit of a worried look. [Hawk]

    His Holiness steps out of the Tower with two knights in tow, supporting Kassia personally rather than using a knight to do so.

    A short male with gray eyes looks up, nodding slightly to Lady le Storm as she comes out. He stays silent, patting Hawk on the shoulder lightly.

    Kassia looks downright terrible. She seems to need the support just to walk, leaning heavily on His Holiness. Fever brightens her cheeks and eyes, her mouth strangely and unusually swollen. Her clothing hangs off her, suggesting a considerable amount of weight loss recently, and other myriad small wounds can be glimpsed. She’s crying, but slowly and steadily, perhaps from pain as she moans and grimaces sporadically.

    After a moment Kassia opens her mouth, displaying to the crowd at large a bloody tourniquet wrapped around her tongue. [Kassia]

    Lady le Storm’s hand lifts up in a small wave in a short male with gray eyes’ direction, her usually ready smile not coming to her lips as she watches Kassia and His Holiness exit from the tower.

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova smoothly crosses the area towards His Holiness and Kassia, pace unhurried but not slow, to join them. Her face is tranquil as her feet take her to the side of the pyre.
    Jenifyr von Vakhrova approaches His Holiness, closing the distance.

    Bryne Porter rides in from the south with a hand rested on his sword.
    Bryne Porter slows to a halt.

    Action set to:
    Kassia stands leaning heavily on /Holiness, looking terrible.

    Hawk gazes out to the view, but her good eye widens a little at the sight of Kassia, and her mouth opens slightly – just a little. “She made me this cloak,” Hawk whispers to a short male with gray eyes, struggling to have herself heard in the noise of the crowd. She tugs at a heavy cloak in grass green wool, lined with cozy wolf fur gently.

    [Action: Jenifyr von Vakhrova stands with His Holiness, Kassia, and the knights supporting the latter, fingers laced before her waist.]

    Edwynn claims to Hawk, “She made the clothes on my back too.”

    Edwynn sighs heavily.
    Edwynn furrows his brow in thought, mentally planning.
    Edwynn begins to move south.
    Edwynn leaves south.

    A short male with gray eyes looks down at Hawk, nodding quietly. “Shh, little one. Let the men speak of her crimes, yes?” He murmurs, letting his hands worry one another behind his back as he stands at crisp military rest.

    His Holiness glances over to Kassia with a faint frown. He continues to support her as he leads over to the pyre itself, silent for the moment until he gets there. “Do help me bind her to the pyre, Inquisitor.” He then speaks up for all the rest, “Citizens of Lithmore! This woman, Kassia Sauniere, is the self-confessed Archmage Crow. Upon capture, she bit out her own tongue, but she has provided a full written confession. Would that each witch would so eagerly embrace the pyre and return to the Lord willingly. I urge you all to remember that the Pyre is an act of compassion, the surest way to the Lord, not a tool of hatred to punish those we disapprove of. It is a sacred implement of Dav’s Holy Order.”

    Bryne Porter canters in slowly on the back of a shaggy, yellow courser, and sticks to the back of the group. He swings his legs off of his horse and hops down, his spurs jingling quietly. He keeps his hand rested on his longsword.

    Lady le Storm listens quietly to the words of His Holiness her fingers tugging at a stormy grey velvet winter cloak, lined in soft rabbit fur, drawing it in close, her face nuzzling in against the fur lining.

    Jenifyr von Vakhrova silently moves to do His Holiness’s bidding, reaching out to collect Kassia’s restraints and gesture to the knights assisting. Quietly, and with little fanfare to distract from His Holiness, they efficiently work to secure Kassia to the pyre.

    Bryne Porter wields a slender damascus stiletto with a deadly needle-like point in his off-hand.

    Kassia closes her mouth again, shuddering and gasping for uneasy breaths as she follows along where she’s led. She practically clings to His Holiness, though her unsteadiness while she’s being passed around may indicate it’s necessity first and foremost.

    Originally standing off to the side, upon the commencement of the ceremony a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes strides quietly towards Bryne Porter, near to whom he stands. Then, positioned there, he offers a casual, two-fingered salute to Kassia — it’s brief; it contains no tenderness or affection, but it does however signify recognition.

    A short male with gray eyes looks over to watch Lady le Storm carefully, his gray eyes full of questions as he does so. After a time, he looks back over to Kassia, a frown on his face.

    [Action: a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes stands near Bryne Porter. And his award-winning horse.]

    [Action: Bryne Porter is standing between an award-winning horse and, less importantly, the Lord Justiciar.]

    Hawk just stands near a short male with gray eyes’s side, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the entire proceedings. She crosses her arms across her chest, exhaling slowly and shifting from foot to foot.

    Bryne Porter pulls a black steel hoplite helm finished with a border of silver off, and looks to a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes, offering him a nod of the head. “Evenin’ m’Lord.” He states politely, tucking the steel helm under his armpit. He looks to Kassia and gives her a bit of a sympathetic look.

    His Holiness steps back from Kassia once she is bound, speaking loudly and with a carefully neutral expression, “By Dav’s guidance we send you on to purification. May the Lord of the Springs have mercy upon your soul.” He then begins pouring the oil.

    Bryne Porter swings his leg over his mount, preparing to dismount.

    Bryne Porter skillfully dismounts from a shaggy, yellow courser.

    His Holiness moves you to the pole.
    His Holiness secures your hands to the pole with a length of chain.
    His Holiness opens a flask of oil and spreads it around the bottom of the pole.

    “Evening back at you, my Lord Earl Marshall,” a tall, slender man with almond-shaped grey eyes quips back to Bryne Porter, exhaling a rather lengthy sigh as His Holiness announces his heady proclamations: he reaches out to touch the shaggy, yellow courser’s head, offering the beast a gentle pat before his attention descends fully upon Kassia. Now his jaw tightens into a frown, and he mouths the words ‘Wish I could’ve, before’, to her.

    His Holiness lights a crude torch, holding it at shoulder height, and makes the sign of the Chalice.

    His Holiness casts the torch onto the base of the pyre. The oil ignites immediately.

    Flames lick at the base of your feet.

    Rising higher, the flames encompass you. The smell of your burning flesh permeates the air.

    You writhe in the flames.
    You writhe in the flames.

    Kassia smiles weakly and absently to the crowd for just a moment – and then screams, high and piercing, as the flames rise.

    You writhe in the flames.
    You writhe in the flames.
    You writhe in the flames.
    You writhe in the flames.

    His Holiness attempts a stoic mask at the sight, but it’s clear there is compassion there behind it, appearing very thoughtful as he watches.

    You writhe in the flames.

    Edwynn arrives from the south.
    Edwynn slows to a halt.

    A short male with gray eyes shakes his head, covering his ears as best as he can before turning away from the flames, shuddering as he does so.

    You writhe in the flames.

    Edwynn returns reeking of alcohol and with bloodshot eyes.

    You writhe in the flames.
    Completely engulfing you now, the flames burn you to cinders.

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