• 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.

    Posted by Jenifyr @ 3:29 pm