Prefect's Office, Court and Jail

[Tungro]

Xeno

Reception and Courtroom

While its outer facade is unadorned stone, on the inside the court of local justice in Abestat is an opulent, impressive building which pays some homage to the city's history as the traditional dwelling place of wealthy merchants who in their later years chose often to pursue law. The reception area has a multihued granite floor, a huge sculpture of an Imperial Warbird standing at the center of the room before the balif's counter. Three passageways lead out from the main room, granting access to the three chambers which constitute the main arteries of justice for the city.

While a courthouse would traditionally rise up steeply to the dias of the magistrate, in this case the building actually slopes downward slightly in that direction, part of an architectural effort to create more room for the many who may be interested in observing judicial proceedings here. Rising out of a veined marble floor, the sea of stained oak benches carved at the top and edges with understated vinework is parted by a royal indigo carpet inset at regular intervals with tiny pearls. The hallowed ebonwood platform including the cushioned seats of the judges rises imposingly, slightly larger than normal, with the seal of Prime Province inlaid in gold at its face. Four massive columns stand at the far end of the room, one on each side of two doorways - one with an ivory bust of Ioannes peering down beneficiently over it and the other with a hard black likeness of Jalat scowling toward those who might pass under it, the entrances leading to the office of the prefect and a stretch of the hallway leading to the subterranian gaol respectively.

Office of the Prefect

In contrast to the grandeur of the adjoining hearing room, the official place of business for the prefect is comparatively utilitarian. A superlative pine desk sits in a pool of the center of the room, its only accutriments a silver quill holder and ink pot. A massive bookshelf takes up most of the far wall, a veritable treasure trove both in the resources it must have required to fill and in the generations of knowledge about local, provincial and Imperial law proceedings that it contains. The literature therein ranges from scrolls to boxes with unbound pages to actual vellum-bound texts with carefully illuminated spines and wording, all of which must be memorized in order to successfully administer the law.

The stonework of the walls is covered by a series of banners in the colonial colors of Abestat, purple, black and gold flags draping above bronze torch holders which are kept blazing during the prefect's many late nights of service to the good of the city.

Gaol

As prisons go within the Empire, Abestat was particularly vicious about the construction of its very own place for the internment of the criminal element. Seen to by the efforts of Dwarven master builders and Gnomish tinkerers swayed into the service of the township by the enormous wealth of its government and a few choice benefactors, the narrow, pitch-black corridor leading into the dungeon-like complex is actually larger in total area than the zone cordained off to hold the unlucky malcontents who find themselves on the wrong side of the law. The sloping hall is a long, cold and potentially dangerous forced march which all new residents must undergo to reach the rows of reinforced cells at the bottom of the chasmlike construction. Occassionally, the dim flicker of a torch may light the way in the hall or to delineate the winding paths between the cells, but in general the whole schematic is enormously unpleasant, frightening, and detrimental to health and sanity beyond the wildest imaginings of topside thieves and vagrants.

As a rule, only the bailifs and most senior guardsmen know the layout of the whole jail, and only the prefect and other magistrates are aware of the intriciacies of all its hidden pitfalls. More than once - though not much more - has a particularly unfortunate soul managed to escape from their immediate confinement only to sprawl to their untimely death at the bottom of a four-pace wide pit or stumble into a variety of sharp, pointy objects about which they had no prior conception. To make things all the worse, there is a constant array of dripping, chittering and squeaking noises in addition to the sounds some have professed to hear after their visits begin to grow a little too wearying on mind and body ...

The idea of granting prisoners an exercise yard took a long time to catch on in Abestat, with its traditionally overzealous approach toward any who would threaten the sanctity of its wealth, but it was eventually permitted, if not exactly embraced. The yard is hemmed in by rough-hewn, towering stone walls and razorwire as well as having redundant guard towers, two pair, with archers stationed on every shift.

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Taul Pellares

Taul entered the court of local justice, looking brighter than he felt. His lithe body was masked by his clothes, suited more for travel in the wilderness than wandering around cities. The dark blue shirt and trousers looked recently cleaned, and Taul’s short, tawny hair had been combed down. Altogether, Taul hoped he looked good. I need to be, for what I’m asking the Prefect for, he thought.

He passed through the reception, marvelling at the beauty of the place. The granite reminded him of his birthplace, many days’ travel on horseback away. He sighed, as the memory of his parents flooded back, the guiding light beacon in his life. He also remembered his brother Tel, the one he had come to rescue. He seethed with anger as he remembered Tel’s friend, frenzied, recounting the story how Tel had been taken away for a crime he had not committed. Control yourself, Taul, that’s why you’re travelling the Empire, to help him. Getting angry won’t help. He halted, and blinked angry tears away. It mightn’t have been city officials, he thought. If it was, I could be working for them in a day or two! He scowled. But it could also be a prime place for learning more about his capture, he reasoned. A thin smile crossed his face. He looked around for the Prefect’s office.

He barely glanced around the room then, lest he was reminded of more harsh memories. Nevertheless, he had to look up to see where he was going. Noticing the doors, protected by the deities, he hoped one of those led to the Prefect’s office. It can’t be the one with the scowling individual, he reasoned. That’d be more fit for the condemned. He sincerely hoped he’d never go there, at least, not as one of the damned.

But I suppose I could possibly pass through there a lot, if the Prefect accepts my application for a job, he thought grimly.

He knocked on the doorway before entering, not just to check if the Prefect was actually there, but also to announce his presence. It would do no good to start by interrupting something of great importance, as that would most likely bias the Prefect against him…

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Cabbit

The ornate reception room was empty of any officials you could see from this vantage point, a state of affairs that struck you as a trifle unusual. There was a long desk in the room behind which a clerk or bailif might usually be seated, but it was unoccupied at the moment, and you had passed no one on your way in. The room was entirely empty of life besides your own, and the sound of your footsteps was loud across the hard floor as you made your way to what you presumed was the entry to the Prefect's chamber.

Your knocking provided an equally uninviting sound in the midst of your dark thoughts, but you felt some relief when your arrival had been officially announced. A moment passed before you recieved anything in acknowledgement, however: the voice that answered you was a depthful, fluent one with just the slightest aristocratic accent, a voice of command that had nevertheless seen and directed things from the front line in the ever-vigilant battle between the forces of justice and the machinations of those who would choose to subvert it.

"Yes? Who comes?"

Nothing further from the man you assume to be the city's current Prefect, but there are no sounds that would suggest he is entertaining others on business. All you can hear within his office is the scrabbling of a quill on a piece of parchment, which did not pause even while he was speaking. Were you to try opening the door before you, you would find it locked.

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Taul Pellares

Taul reflected on the fact that he’d not seen a single soul in the place. How unusual. I wonder if this is the normal state of affairs here? He then realised that the festival was still going on. Maybe most employees have been given leave? Well, I’d better visit the festival too, soon.

Taul listened intently after knocking at the door for any sounds other than a reply. He was a firm believer in the important things that could be conveyed without speech. Hearing the brief reply from a man inside, and the continuous scribbling of quill on parchment, he deduced a lot of things about him. I’d better approach this man carefully, he thought. He sounds as if he’s got the law of the whole of Abestat in his hands. He’s obviously a man of high status and rank.

He cleared his throat as silently as he could, priming his voice for ‘first contact’. “Serale.” He attempted to open the door, but it was locked. Slightly off balance, he continued, “My name is Taul Pellares. I have come to seek employment, and I was led to believe there might be a position open for me.”

Although how he could assess me through a locked door is beyond me, he mused. He listened to the sounds in the room, as an indication of how the man would react.

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Cabbit

The undercurrent of writing you could perceive from within the closed chamber came to a stop as you announced your name and reason for entering the office. Listening carefully, you could hear a sharp click from the region of the doorknob followed by instructions from your unseen host, whose princely voice was outlined with reserved interest at your inquiry.

"Indeed, there might be. Come inside."

The door opened easily to further attempts and you would find the room beyond it to be bereft of much of the open pomp of the courtroom and greeting area, though perhaps understated affluence was a better frame of reference. The walls were crafted from plain but strong stone, hung with long shimmering pennants in the tri-colors of Abestat, purple complemented by gold and black. The fellow you assume to be the Prefect was seated at a large pine desk with no personal affects visible, the only object which might count for decoration being a functional silver ink pot placed within reach. Torches in polished bronze holders blaze on the right and left walls, lending illumination to the confined environment. Only the immense bookshelf you can see behind the prefect, heavily stocked with all manner of judicial tomes and archives, speaks clearly of his power within the seaside community.

The official you had sought was a middle-aged man who wore reddish hair cut close in a style suggesting a history as a milite, and bore a well-trimmed chin beard of the same color. The pigments of his clothing matched those of the city's seal and his garments were well-tailored but unpretentious. His eyes were piercing and observant, their appearance matching his voice perfectly. When you entered he put aside a particular volume of hard leather that he had been making careful notions in only a moment before. He rose as you approached. "Serale. My name is Cristoph Trave, the prefect. Tell me more about yourself and why you wish to have a job here, Pellares," he offered in a businesslike tone, gesturing to a chair before his desk and seating himself as you did.

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Taul Pellares

Taul hoped that that brief vocal introduction had made some impact on the man inside. The man’s voice seemed genuinely interested, he reasoned. He tried the door again, and briefly examined the room with a critical eye before entering.

What a contrast to the décor of the courtroom and the entrance area! he thought at first glance. The plain, stone walls looked more practical than beautiful, brightened up somewhat by the pennants. Not my taste in interior decoration, he thought, dryly. The lack of personal items in the room is surprising. Does the Prefect have a family? A loved one? Taul wondered what the Prefect would be like himself. Hopefully not a workaholic…

He strode towards the pine desk, standing about a metre from it, facing the Prefect. From here, he examined the Prefect. His entire attire emphasised the fact that he was the city’s Prefect. Had he not been here, Taul felt sure he’d have recognised the man, from his clothes, his hairstyle, his piercing and observant eyes, and his voice. Unmistakably the Prefect, he thought.

Taul sat down when offered, but did not make himself comfortable. Instead, he was seated so that he appeared alert, but not offensively so. He began to explain, while studying the Prefect closely.

“I was born in a small community in Enamoria. My family was very large – I have four brothers and four sisters. I spent a lot of my time with my brother Tel, who left to go travelling with his friend a while ago. I became quite lonely after he left – the age differences between my siblings and I were just too great. Eventually, his friend returned, and explained that Tel had been taken and captured. Tel had shouted for help, and asked him for me.” Taul left out the fact that it could have been the Prefect’s men that had captured him. “I left Enamoria to come here to find out what happened. I have not yet come any closer to determining what happened to him. I don’t even know where exactly he had been captured, or by whom.” He looked into the Prefect’s eyes. “Sir, I have travelled a long distance, and reached this wonderful place. I intend to stay here until I find out what happened to my brother, and I will need a job to sustain me until that time has come.”

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Cabbit

As you locked vision with the Prefect the man did the same with you, and by the end of your speech you got a bizarre chilly feeling that he had discerned at least - if not more - as much about you as you had about him from the close inspection. The most significant thing was that he was incredibly, incredibly attentive; everything you said seemed to be absorbed for dissection in an indefinite later. You vaguely recall a similar look in the eyes of the bartender at the Bloomsbury inn whose offhand advice had sent you here in the first place, where in all likelyhood that could yet be processed you were tending toward a job. Perhaps in some strange way these two were kindred spirits though quite opposite in their endeavors, siphoning out as they did the deeper motivation of their fellow men so as to apply a certain ethos and behavior when dealing with them. But just like that the musing is over with, as the Abestatian lawman begins to speak again.

"Your story is touching," he tells you, but you are not entirely certain to what degree he means it. The observation which comes next is momentarily shocking, a detail you had not seen fit to draw attention to yourself which had nonetheless found its way into the consideration of he who might be your future employer. "But do you have a love for the law, Pellares? You must know that it could just as easily have been the local Prefect's men who took Tel away."

He stopped there, allowing you to take your own pains to fill the meaningful void that followed. You were keenly aware of the hiss of burning torches and the approach of what sounded like a pair of men from the the street as the only sound in the building, yet there was no proposal of entry into the office you shared with the judiciary official, and it seemed no one would interrupt your interview at least for the moment.

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Theodore Robespere

Stepping into the courthouse's main reception hall, Theodore coughs softly as he adjusts his military uniform, his hand sliding into one of the pockets and retrieving his military identification and imperial visa. He has been whipping out these two documents so many times this past day, he has pondered on wearing them about his neck.

He gives a shrug and allows his eyes to wander as he approaches the reception's desk, distracted by the opulence of the reception hall, and its great beauty. He speaks as he reaches the desk, coughing quietly, "Private Robespere reporting as ordered. I need to see the Prefect, if possible?"

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Theodore Robespere

OOC: Just bumping things up so the thread does not fall out of view.

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Taul Pellares

ooc: sorry for the delay

ic:
This is turning into a harsh interview, Taul thought, as he took in all that the man communicated, verbally and non-verbally. He seems to have a lot in common with the barkeeper at the Bloomsbury. Perhaps they are related? Brothers?

The Prefect’s speech did not really surprise him. It had occurred to him before that the Prefect might single out that one hole in the story, for him to patch. A fallacy is unforgivable, under any circumstances. He mentally kicked himself for omitting the fact that it was doubtful it was the local Prefects’ men.

Slightly hesitantly, Taul replied, “Yes, sir, I am aware of that. Nevertheless, I doubt it was the local Prefect’s men that took him away. I have had the opportunity to study people on my travels, and I have found most guards and such men honest. I believe that is a requirement of the job. Tel’s friend explained to me what he and Tel had been doing prior to his capture, and none of it seems to have been unlawful, so it seems highly unlikely it was any Prefect’s men that captured him. Although it is still possible, for instance that Tel was doing something that he shielded even from his close friends and family, and that that led to his capture.” He sighed. “I have gone through this mental path many times before in recent times, and it has been equally fruitless on each occasion. I do not know what happened to him. I want to find out. But I cannot let my emotions rule the rest of my life. If he’s dead,” here he swallowed and continued, “then I could waste my whole life searching for something that no longer exists. I care about Tel, and I care about myself. I know he wants me to rescue him, and I also know he wants me to live life. In addition, I don’t want people having to live through the type of anguish I have, over a captured family member and friend. I want people to be assured that captivity is not something commonplace, and this security can only be offered by the law.”

He smiled, and hoped his answer was satisfactory. It was definitely honest, he thought. He looked directly into the Prefect’s eyes, nearly unblinkingly.

[Tungro]

Cabbit

Theodore

At roughly the same time you enter, a nondescript human in the uniform of an Abestatian court bailif walks in behind you, a town guardsman at his side. They had been speaking in hushed tones as they approached the building, but upon seeing you lapsed into silence; the guard excused himself away with a nod to the other, and the bailif slid in past the door and traced a path through the room so he could be in his right and proper place as you addressed him with your need for a meeting.

The bailif, medium height and fair of feature yet strong enough in build to suggest that he would be able to see to the occassional violent aspects of his duty quite competently, glances over to a door near the side of the room which has a bust of the great god Ioannes placed over it, watching that area for a few seconds before he imparts, "The Prefect is in a meeting right now, private. If you would wait just a moment ..."

Unfortunately, the reception room of the Prefect's office has not been equipped with chairs, perhaps in an effort to keep people from waiting. Nevertheless, the official behind the desk - who is not sitting either - does not seem to regard this as a problem. In fact, he engages you in some smalltalk after informing you of the delay. "So, you've been sent from the Prime garrison," he stated as he took your visa and identification documents and gave them a fast but probing look. "How long have you been enlisted?"

Taul

Even as you became emotional, the Prefect did not seem to soften his stern demeanor. He listened to the entire tale, only sometimes nodding, letting you go on without interruption. Though you were not aware why at the time, only once did his gaze flicker beyond your shoulder to the door, and it was returned so quickly that you would hardly have noticed, if you saw it happen at all.

"I see," he said a few seconds after you had concluded your tale. He was clearly considering the merits of what you had told him, though not for very long, as he continued after a breath. Perhaps he had already reached a conclusion. "Pellares, for as much as the law seeks to uphold process and virtue, being a good judge of character is the first step in becoming a lawman of any kind." That steady gaze is still on you, but does not hold the rancor you may have believed you noticed beforehand, though the tone never changes even as the content of the dialogue shifts rapidly to something more positive.

"I believe you are of sound character to work here. We have a position open as a bailif; you would need to be taught of the law, and learn the ways of a weapon. In this city, there is as much need of upstanding men on the street as behind the desk out front, and you would need to be prepared for both kinds of duty." He comes to a stop there, allowing you to frame a response before he goes on, never offering too much, perhaps to see how you use what you are given.

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Theodore Robespere

"All right then. I'll wait for as long as necessary." Theodore replies with a slight nod. He turns his attention away from the bailif briefly, glancing around the reception room for somewhere to sit, but alas, there is none. Oh boy, well, hopefully the meeting the Prefect is in will not extend for to long, but he is sure his legs can take the punishment, hopefully.

His attention is directed back upon the bailif as he starts up some small talk, giving a stern nod, "Yes, sir. Was enlisted not to long ago, about six days ago. Journeyed to Abestat on foot, and arrived today. A wonderful city, Abestat. I am glad to have been stationed here."

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Taul Pellares

He makes a good listener, Taul thought. No interruptions. Gives his full attention. Shows he is listening by non-verbal responses. Very nice. Nevertheless, he did look at the door once, albeit quickly. I wonder what that was about? Is he expecting someone?

The Prefect’s reference to judging characters seemed unfair. I am a good judge of character! At least, I think I am. I look at the non-verbal communication – probably the most vital aspect of the judgement, as most of that is usually done unconsciously, thus displaying the mind’s real thoughts. Maybe he means something different?

“Sir, I am currently receiving sword training, over four days. I currently know little of the law, and will need to be taught. I am prepared for both active duty in the streets of Abestat, and work in an office behind a desk. However, I believe I will need to know a little more about the specific things related to being a bailiff. I believe a bailiff is an official who assists the Prefect, and has the power to arrest if necessary. Other than that, I am not sure.”

I hope that although this could be interpreted as a show of ignorance, it will be interpreted as honesty, Taul thought.

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Tacitus

Tacitus halted his horse as he arrived at the Prefect's Office. "Lets go in, Tac," the half elf whispered to his pet wolf as he dismounted. He straightened his uniform and went into the impressive building with Tac close behind him.

He went right to the reception room and saw a man standing behind a desk and approached him. "Serale, Private Tacitus requesting for a meeting with the prefect. The guards at the western gate told to report in here for duties. Do you need my Military ID and Imperial Visa?" Tacitus said as he dug his right hand into his pocket.

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Gwindin Tor

Directed here by the city guards, the centripaxian pair made their towards the thane's manner. The elf and dwarf were both dressed in the blue of Centripax, the elf with one more chevron on her shoulder. Looking about the place and with no clear sign of a sentry or clerk, the dwarf grumbled, "By Orod's light, is everyone out on a siesta?"

Restraining from grinning which would only encourage the dwarf, the elf replied, "We will just have to knock and hope someone is present inside." With her left hand, she rapped sharply on a wall.

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Kyli Bronwen’s post that is meant to go here has gone AWOL. In that post, she described reporting for duty.

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Chrysostom

Chrysostom, right behind Kyli, wipes off the sweat that had built up on his brow with a sleeve, keeping his personal appetites to just do what he wished under his command.

Training of the will was one of the things he had been taught by old Grammaticus Onofrus, and that training showed itself even now, some 20 years hence.

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Skylar Dain

Coming straight from Her Ladyship Skylar thought for a moment of going back to the tavern with his newly reacquainted friends, but thought the current matter was more pressing. He wandered a bit through the city as he was not yet acquainted with all of the establishments and building locations as of yet. It wasn't long before he found the Court however, and he knew that the Prefect would be inside. Before stepping up into the building Skylar glanced out to the sea as the sun was setting and the sky was illuminated with beautiful pink and lavender streaks that would have normally made him smile. Though it didn't, he appreciated the mundane beauty of it.

Finally entering the Courtroom, Skylar searched even more and came across what he assumed to be the Prefect's, but it was terribly crowded. He let out a sigh that no one appeared to have heard and leaned against a wall waiting to be summoned. Skylar knew the delicacy of the matter and stating what he wanted to flat out may not have been the best course of action, as a matter of fact he knew it definitely wasn't.

As he glanced around observing the make of the room and the current company it witheld, Skylar saw some soldiers, citizens and even a fleeting man with a wolf, the latter of the three bringing a puzzled look to his face and perhaps making him second guess his choice of destination. Is this a court or a vet? he thought to himself. As he was prone to doing in matters of importance, he ran the elements through his head again. Culturen....Thane....Prefect. Corruption is afoot in this city and I don't like it. Who would oppose Her Ladyship? Or mayhaps, it is not for her own harm but for her father's that the conspirators conspire. Either way, I myself must remain the uncorruptable to prove my worth and loyalty.

His mind tapered off for a moment as he realized that he would be in for quite a wait. I wonder what kind of man the Prefect is.

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Cabbit

Everyone in general

The Prefect barely allowed a trace of amusement to touch his face, but what was only partially obvious from looking at him became noticable in his tone, slightly exasperated humor edging his always-commanding voice as he gave the contents of the room a general look. "Great gods, do tell these people where to go," he ordered the bailif, his eyes darting to the seated man. "They all look competent enough, no point wasting time here," he decided crisply. The bailif nodded, replying only with a loud "Sir!" and then turned his own attentions to the huge numbers of people massing in the reception area before him, working with unflustered quickness. "Those of you from the Prime militia line up, present your military identification and await your assignments, report there immediately, further instructions when you get there," he rapidly explained without pretense, leaning forward to deal with the first privates who had come for their new lives as part of the Abestat defense force. "Private Robespere, you're on duty at the east gate and may report to our barracks at the end of the day," he said to the one whose paperwork he had already inspected. "You with the wolf, go with Robespere. And the rest of you present your papers," he finished, waiting. "If anyone has business that's not military, wait for the end of the line," he added as an afterthought.

Centripaxians

After summarily dispensing with everyone else in the room, the Prefect was able to attend to you. He returrned your salute with perfect form and identified himself. "That would be me, men. Christoph Trave, Prefect." Moving toward the door and opening it with one hand as he watched you, he never took his gaze off the two of you until he had finished speaking. "Join me in my chamber." Entering ahead of you, he returned to the proper side of his desk but did not resume his seat of office when the interested parties finally gathered. Barely noticing Taul still in a chair off to the side, he explained away the young fellow's presence by briskly saying, "This is Taul, one of my trusted assistants. Whatever you have to tell me you may feel free to speak in front of him." His posture rigid with discipline he had learned on the field, he awaited what you had to say.

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Chrysostom

Chrysostom, somewhat tiredly, gave Kyli a weak smile, and then looked back at the bailiff. He removed his military ID, his imperial visa, and the now wrinkled orders he had from Alleria Prime.

"Sir, my papers," Chrysostom said, presenting the same to the bailiff, taking care not to infuriate the man on his first day on the job. Once he had done so and released his hold on the precious scribblings, he stood at attention and waited for a reply.

In the meantime, he thought, I'm no use as a Sword of the Empire if I don't evn know how to wield the thing properly. The enemies may very well die laughing seeing my countenance, awkwardly giving the appearance of a sheep in wolf's clothing.

It didn't seem the right way to start a career through force of arms.

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Kyli Bronwen

Kyli quickly took a large step over to Chrysostom. She didn't want to be separated with the only person she knew. However, she also hoped that the person in charge would not take this as a sign of weakness. I just happen to bond to people faster then other people might, she reasoned with herself. So there's no reason for me to feel guilty.

Making sure she was standing right next to Chrysostom she reached into her imperial amry issued duffel bag and pulled out her Military ID and held it out in front of her.

She awaited further instruction seemingly patient and tranquil on the outside, but inside she felt like she was going to burst with all the questions runnning amuck in her mind, such as: "Where are we going to stay? Are we going to have training? If so, in what weapon? How often do men get killed? Are there many women in the army?" So on and so forth she thought, her mind a bubbling cauldren, almost overflowing, but not quite.

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Theodore Robespere

Theodore gives a brisk nod at his orders, "Aye, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

His hand rears up in a quick salute, turning upon his heels and walking toward the entranceway of the building, his steps slow as to allow Tacitus to catch up and join him.

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Gwindin Tor

Dropping their salute, the duo followed the man as he requested. Accepting at face value his comment about the other individual, the dwarf moved a half a step away from his partner. With a small nod, he looked at the elf as if saying I got your back

"Sir" started the elf. "The general wishes that I bring you salutations from Centripax. Though we do not share a mutual border, he would like to extend the following proposal that should be mutually beneficial. The Centripaxian Armed Forces are generally regarded as some of the best trained land forces in the empire. The same could be said for Abestat's marines and seafaring abilities. With that in mind, he would like to propose a joint war games scenario where the forces of Centripax mix with the marines of Abestat to learn from each other. Since we have proposed the idea, it is only right that we do this first on your turf where we can mix both land and naval activities. If you see value in this effort, we can do it again back in Centripax. In addition, we will take care of all costs for our troops and will bivouac in the field." Pausing to see if this was being received well, the elf cleared her throat to give the man time to react. The general was taking a chance but firmly believed that his land locked province needed to learn more of the ways of the coastal cities.

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Skylar Dain

Skylar watches milites come and go and yet he is still not getting any closer to the Prefect, and so he waits patiently, as somewhere along the hard road travelled, he realized that it truly is a virtue.

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Cherish

The Bailif shakes his head with astonishment. How did his office suddenly turn into a mad house? He spoke loudly.

" All recruits please go to the east gate to check in. I don't know what fool told you to come here, but I'll be speaking with them shortly." He turned to Skylar. " I'm sorry for the wait he'll be with you in a few moments." As an after thought he glanced at Skylar. " Could I help you with anything?"

Gwindin

Christoph listened with a keen ear. Glancing once in a while to see if Taul was listening as well. He nods with interest. " See the rewards of this sir. I am all for this idea. However, you know that I must speak to the Lady Thane. We can spare the men for this of course. I'm sure she will agree with me. How about we set up a meeting at the Thanes office, say tomorrow? I'll let her know, she hasn't been busy as of late. Thing have begun to go back to normal around her since she was put into office."

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Skylar Dain

Skylar watched the military folk file out and thought he heard some muttering. Turning to the bailiff Skylar nodded as he thought he'd been forgotten. When the bailiff turned to him again Skylar thought quickly. Anyone could help me with this, corruption usually runs deep. Skylar shook his head no but spoke to him nonetheless, nonchalantly as though he didn't have alternative motives.

"With my current business no you cannot help me I'm afraid, but if you wish to help me fight off the burden of waiting then by all means you can help. Let me ask you, since the place seems to be buzzing with news of nothing but her, what is the Thane like? I've not had the pleasure to meet, or even see her, I've just recently arrived in the town. What do you think of Her Excellency?" He said her title with such disdain that he must have sounded as though he himself didn't like her, as was what he wanted to accomplish.

"I heard rumors in the tavern of some crazy Lord who wanted to overthrow her. If someone wants to ruin her, then she must deserve it. I'm interested in political injustice and if there is unjust rulers, I should like to help unseat them. However, I am not saying that about the Thane for I do not yet know much about her, and drunks are not a reliable source of information if you catch my meaning. So again, how is she?"

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Gwindin Tor

Inwardly, the elf smiled at the humans nodding. The young races wear their emotions on the outside for all to see. Listening to the positive response, both soldiers leaned forward in anticipation of getting the answer they wanted. While the general had been the one to request, both soldiers had been part of the advanced training team Tor had assembled and had generated some of the ideas Centripax was about to implement.

The follow on words hit like a lead balloon. Closing her eyes to half a second to gather herself, she cast a sideways glance at the dwarf as if to say, Hold they toungue rock lover. "A good suggestion sir" she started, "the general realized this would need concurrence from the thane to implement. If I may, can we see if she is around today? The road back to PG is a long one and we are anxious to return and get things moving. The general has a tight timeline in mind and we would be remiss if we spent an extra night in your wonderful city while on duty." With a small smirk, she added in a small voice. "The general sir is a bit of ah.....hardcase you might say."

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Skylar Dain

ooc: sorry, just bumping us up, Abestat is quite lively nowadays... i guess thats good and bad for you roz, so congrats and im sorry

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Podo Proudfoot

Stepping into the courthouse's main reception hall, Podo walks quietly trying not to disturb any importan precedings held within the depths of the cold building.

He walks up to the reception desk and looks around untill he notices the clerk behind the counter look up and acknowledge his arrival. He clears his throat and declares"Private Podo Proudfoot reporting... I am not sure to who but I was told to come here," he readies his Military ID and Visa incase it is needed yet again.

[Tungro]

Cherish

ooc: I'm grateful that most of the PCs understand Lots of changes and shifting, trying to keep up. But I love it, so I can't complain

IC:

Skylar

The balif was astounded by the question. He wasn't a man of hidden thoughts. His father clearly shows the quick anger that consumes him. " That bastard. He convience Elliot to let him out. Said he wasn't guilty of treason and that Lady Meladora had set him up." He bit out. His gray eyes flashing. " Our Lady is a fine woman, a bit head strong, but she comes by it honestly. Her family has been in Abestat since forever." He mumbled on, his face turning an unnatural shade of red/purple. The anger taking it's effect on him. " Now Elliot is in the cell while that mad man is on the loose. The Prefect has his men looking for him, but I fear that he may try to hurt her." He growled, then looked at Skylar. " I told her father as much when he came asking me the same questions about Lord Culturen."

He paused as if he forgot something, he realized you had asked about the Lady herself. " Lady Meladora is a fine woman, she'll do right by this city, Diana knows we need someone like her to turn us around."


Gwindin

The Prefect chuckled. " Actually I'll do better then that." He called out a sharp, " Hec." Soon a young boy came running in. The Prefect wrote down on a parchment of the plans and then rolled it up. He handed to the boy and spoke stern. " Straight to the Lady Thane's office and hand this directly to Areal, understand?"
The boy nods and runs off. The Prefect smiles to you both. " Won't take long, hes a quick boy. The Lady Thane can give her answer. If she wants more detail we will set up meeting, if not she'll give the okay and you can be on your way." The Lady Thanes office wasn't more then two or three building down the boy made it there quickly and got an answer just as quickly. He ran back the Prefects office, bursting in and grinning boyishly. The faster he was, the more the Prefect gave him as a reward and pay. The Prefect opened the parchment and nods.

" She agrees, you may set it up and I will have some of my guards join you. I will attend myself."

Podo

The person behind the counter speaks clearly as they look over your Visa. " Check in at the east Gate, they will tell you what to do from there."

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Skylar Dain

Skylar was overwhelmed by an odd sense of relief. He had not expected to receive that much information from the bailiff as he thought it was too intimate to be known to many. Skylar revered the man with the utmost respect now and was very grateful for having revealed what he knew of Culturen and his sudden release. Skylar began to roll over the new occurrences in his mind. Culturen...Elliot...I wonder what the relationship is between the two. Lord Lastra too hath been on the inquiry, mayhaps I should meet up with him in my search for this Conspirator. Skylar stopped and looked up at the man, grabbing and shaking his hand with much gratitude.

"Sir, I am eternally grateful for your information. You have supplied answers to my questions and inferences and it will help me in my little trek." Releasing the hand, and with his smile fading, Skylar began asking some more questions. "Tell me, this...Elliot, what kind of man was he? Was he a competent guard or would it have been easy to succumb to this man's corruption? You see, I would really need to see this man, though I realize this is probably not an attainable goal. Do you, sir, have the authority to let me see this turned comrade? Mayhaps I should go in and see the Prefect if not, though I find you much more social from what I've seen or heard of the Prefect.

I apologize for having made you angry, because it is quite visible on your person. The Thane is in danger sir and you have a good heart and mind for speaking so kind words of her. If you want her to remain well, please do not hinder my efforts or keep information from me, which I'm sure you haven't done. Tell me, what know you of Culturen himself? Maybe before his apprehension you may remember something that could lead to his capture."

ooc: sorry for replying so soon roz, i only post in this city as of now so...yeah...lol sorry

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Podo Proudfoot

OOC: Now im just confused at the east gate they told me to come here and here they told me there now where must i go.

IC: The hobbit looked on queer. "But i was just there." he said with a frown "And they told me the place to go was here." he said in and began to turn around back to were he had been.

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Gwindin Tor

The Prefect chuckled. " Actually I'll do better then that." He called out a sharp, " Hec." Soon a young boy came running in. The Prefect wrote down on a parchment of the plans and then rolled it up. He handed to the boy and spoke stern. " Straight to the Lady Thane's office and hand this directly to Areal, understand?"
The boy nods and runs off. The Prefect smiles to you both. " Won't take long, hes a quick boy. The Lady Thane can give her answer. If she wants more detail we will set up meeting, if not she'll give the okay and you can be on your way." The Lady Thanes office wasn't more then two or three building down the boy made it there quickly and got an answer just as quickly. He ran back the Prefects office, bursting in and grinning boyishly. The faster he was, the more the Prefect gave him as a reward and pay. The Prefect opened the parchment and nods.

" She agrees, you may set it up and I will have some of my guards join you. I will attend myself."

Her back noticeably relaxing, the elf felt a cool bead of perspiration drop down her back. "Thank you for understanding sir, I was concerned that you would take our assertiveness as something more than just a passion for our job." With a nod to her compatriot, she offered, "We may yet get home in time for the weekend stew you love so well." The dwarf grumbled at this remark and tried to suck in his hard earned gut.

When the boy came back, the response from the thane was announced. Coming back to attention, the elf sounded off. "It will be a great pleasure to report these tidings to General Tor sir. Figuring that it will take us 6 days forced march back, 1 day to prepare and 8 more to return fully laiden, I would say you could expect to see us in a fortnight." Saluting the perfect, she prepared to turn and start the march back to PG.

OOC: Thanks Cherish. Will get the details moving tomorrow with Tweety.

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Cherish

The balif sniffed loudly, glancing towards the prefects office. He leaned in towards Skylar. " He's been stressed lately. Blames himself for the escape. He was under pressure with the issues of his wife, the whole gambling bit and well he assigned Elliot without thinkin." He was speaking of the Prefect, though he never said so to Skylar. " Can't say if Elliot will tell you what Culturen said or not. Tra was so mad that he started punching him in the face, not stopping till me and Gunther pulled him off. Elliots refused to eat and his face lookings pretty bad. But he refuses to have the healer help him." He leaned closer, his stale breath fanning on Skylar. He whispered lower then before.

" If you promise to be quick, I'll let you in to see him. Diana knows that Sweet Lady Thane needs protection, even if she is a stubborn, bull headed gal. She pretends to be tough and all, but I've seen her sweet side boy, shes a good girl." He glanced again towards the office. " If he catches you, it wasn't me who let you in, understand?" He motioned for Skylar to follow him down the hall to a door, he opened it and spoke to Skylar.

" Go down the stairs, his is the last cell on the right." When Skylar gets to the bottom of the stairs he can see a shoddy looking floor, dirt is some places, broken cobble stone in some. The cells had wooden doors with little windows in them to pear in. Following the long area down to the end, he comes upon the door the balif spoke of.

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Skylar Dain

Looking back at the bailiff as he unsurely walked down the stairs, Skylar had a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't sure if he should indeed be going to see this man, especially considering the circumstances but he didn't really let that get in his way and he proceeded on. He glanced at the floor as he gets to the bottom and notices that it's quite dirty and was in the typical condition that a dungeon floor might have been in. Turning to the one who granted him entry Skylar spoke in a semi-whisper: "Fear not friend, no one will speak of your name, and again, I must thank you for your generosity towards me and I'm sure that the Thane and Prefect would offer their thanks, if not courtesies, if this leads to Culturen's capture. Close the door behind me and go on as if nothing was amiss so that we are not discovered."

Proceeding down the corridor, Skylar stumbled on a broken floorstone or two though he never lost complete balance and never hit the floor. He glanced at each door as he passed them as if he could get a sense of the inhabitants from where he himself stood free. He could imagine what sort of people were in the cells: from thieves to outlaws and whatever other scum was hiding in Abestat, or caught at sea. Quickly and briefly Skylar thought of his father and what had become of him, though he never could know for sure. He remembered his childhood days and the occasional house-calls guards made in search for Drayton, his father. He admired his father's ability to hide then, though he was just a boy, though now he simply hated his father for all that had befallen him and his mother after Drayton left, though it was his own fault in a big way.

He hated thinking of him but did so on occasion whenever surroundings or situations stirred up old memories. However, he shook the thoughts from his head, though not before he grew thoroughly angry. He finally got to the end of the hall, though he hadn't noticed it in his reminiscence. He turned to the door, his face flushed red and pushed his head to the window and looked through at the man, who sort of looked beaten though Skylar couldn't be sure, nor did he care. Taking out his rapier, Skylar used the hilt to bang on the door, sure to make an alerting noise before he put it back in its place. "Sir, please come to your feet I must speak with you, and possibly to your benefit." Not noticing much movement Skylar wasn't sure if he had been heard so he raised his voice and spoke on.

"I apologize for what has happen to you and for your assault." He put as much sympathy as he could muster in his uncaring state. "You must find yourself in a confused state but I may be able to clear some things up for you. The man, the one that you let loose, has lied to you and for your gullibility you are in this cell." In that moment he lost his artificial sympathy and recoiled for a moment. "Look, sir, I implore you, for your own behalf, tell me all that you know of this Culturen. Any information you give me now is proof that you are not guilty of your charge. I will petition to the Thane and Prefect on your behalf if what you say leads to his capture.

I must know, and know now, all that is at your disposal. I am here to help you so I will not do you any favors. I am asking once and once alone sir. To save your good name, confess to me all that you know as you must know something of him, seeing as he must have spoken with you on many occasions. A hangout or destination where he may plot against the Thane...any possible information, give to me now. I will not wait long for an answer because the Prefect is not to find me here. The fact that I am here unaffirmed should be proof enough that I can help you. I am not affiliated with this House of Justice and am acting on my own free will. I hate to see people lied to and cheated. Alas, I have spoken too much, the time to speak is now."

Skylar stepped back a step, though making sure that he had sight of the man. He glanced over to the other end of the hall, where he had come in, to make sure that no one was coming just yet. This constant danger made Skylar uneasy and tense. He clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to rid him of this but it was not helping just yet.

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Taul Pellares

Taul watched and listened to the conversation closely, and his suspicions seemed confirmed when the elf refused to stay in Abestat for one night. There is something strange about this, but their reason is equally valid. He inwardly smiled at the emotions that had been displayed by both guards, as they had leaned for the answer. They’re not deaf – they probably want this to go ahead just as much as a child wants sweets! But nothing of that inward smile was evident on his face. And what about that personal comment about their own commander! That is unprofessional behaviour; I think something isn’t quite right. Unless they were just trying to lighten the conversation, of course. And it seems like the latter. But that does not justify calling their superior a ‘hardcase’…

As the messenger left, he turned his attention to the guards, and did not fail to see the elf’s back relax. She may be a soldier, but she has not yet managed to fully control herself, he thought. But then again, neither have I, although I am not a soldier.

Taul went through the conversation in his head once more. He had had no idea how the Lady Thane would react, because he had not yet met her, let alone seen her. As far as he knew, she was a blank slate. Yes, he had heard good comments from other people, but emotions mingle with personal opinions, and he had not known anyone here long enough to discover who gave good advice and who didn’t. Nevertheless, I’m sure she’ll be a just ruler. If she hadn’t displayed any ruling abilities, then she would not have likely become Thane.

Deducing nothing more in particular, he was thus occupied until the messenger came back. Not looking at the boy, he continued to watch the guards, casually, not intrusively. The soldiers seemed to take the news well, and seemed eager to get back. What is a fortnight? Maybe it’s a Centripaxian thing; I have not yet travelled far enough to know a lot of region-specific words. I gather it means… fifteen brightenings, or one and a half cycles. I have to remember that one.

As the guards left, Taul couldn’t help noticing that the guards had not even given the slightest nod, to acknowledge his presence. True, he had not done anything for them during that conversation, but, as the Prefect’s ‘assistant’, he should have at least received some respect.

Taul could do nothing now but wait to see what the Prefect had in mind now.

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Chrysostom

Chrysostom peers gingerly from behind the door towards the Authority he was seeking. He was very tired from the bureaucracy just to attend to his duties in defending (hopefully) this most gracious city...until he had an idea.

He'd been hearing news from passerby about this new government in Centripax, quite a long ways off, but offered hope to a more politically active, aware, and optimistic person--just like him. Hopefully the Prefect would be of a similar mind and transfer his duty from here, as was ordered by the Brass in Alleria Prime, and assign him to Centripax, preferably in Primus Gaudeo.

After taking the position he deemed worthy of such a personage, he asked, in quite soft and polite tones:

"Sir, I am Chrysostom, late of the Alleria Prime militia with orders to report to this post. Unfortunately there seems to be some confusion as to whom exactly to report to...(he pauses for a deep breath and to swallow the fear he could taste as well)...and I was considering that perhaps I could be of more service to the Empire in Centripax, particularly in Primus Gaudeo..." Chrysostom let his words trail followed only by silence, and a meek stare at the floor. Then, he recollects himself, pulls out his military papers and presents the same for inspection.

Come on, it'll only take a piece of parchment and a little squiggle, and you can forget that I was ever here....not worthy of your time... Chrysostom muttured something to an unseen deity, hoping for a small miracle.

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Cherish

Skylar

Elliot lay on the dirt floor staring up at the ceiling. He didn't speak for a long moment. His young face ashen and under his eyes were dark smudges. His shoulder length brown hair, stringy and dirty looking from him refusing to clean up. The Abestat gaol harsh on their inmates, yet not cruel. Though like Elliot they would not force the lot to take care of themselves. He continued to stare, ignoring Skylar. His face never flinching from its stone expression. Then a flicker passed his eyes and he blinked.

" I know nothing." His voice rough and low for one as young as he. " He told me Lord Lastra was involved with the misdeeds in Abestat. The killings, the gambling and pirates... Only I soon found out it wasn't Enamere, it was.." It voice broke off and he began to weep. " I've let that man out and now he's going to kill her. He blames her father for all his lifes problems. Now she will pay for it." He suddenly was off the floor and at the door looking at Skylar with a crazy eye. " You want to help her? Find Tarcel, he's the only one who will be able to find anyone in this town. Not even Lord Enamere's spys are as good as that hobbit." His face grew dark. " You won't believe me, as that bastard upstairs won't. I tried to get to talk to the Prefect himself, but he didn't want to hear anything I had to say. You probably don't believe me either." He started screaming then. " You don't do you! I'll riot here for the rest of my life. Go! GO! Get from my sight lest I reach through these bars and kill you with my bare hands. Then they will end my torture of four walls to look at. No fresh air, no freedom. Leave me!"

Chrysostom

The Prefect looks you over and nods without speaking. He signs the transfer papers and smiles. "Good luck to you sir." He hands you back your papers.

[Tungro]

Skylar Dain

Skylar was disappointed at the man's first reply, which gave him nothing to work with, but lightened up when the man spoke, which drew a cocked eyebrow out of Skylar as he gazed down on the man who could practically appoint him to his desired position if his information was accurate. He inched closer to hear the man, as he was speaking sort of low and monotone. With as much patience as he could possibly contain Skylar listened to the speech of ups and downs, while all the while keeping an eye on the stairs from which he came.

In the middle of his rant the prisoner jumped up to the door and stared at Skylar, a quite unflinching Skylar at that. He was not at all intimidated by the man, who seemed to be somewhere around his own age, and an able bodied man at that. Staring right back at the man, Skylar flashed his eyes in a questioning manner, as if bidding the man continue. At the mention of another new name he sighed a bit, having been given another place to run around to.

Tarcel....Enamere.....spies. Skylar was thinking things through again, even as Elliot spoke, or rather screamed on, for by now he had lost his composure and was speaking wildly. Skylar was agitated with this and even though of reaching through and slapping the idiot. "Hold your tongue! You are in Hell, you're not dead yet, though if you're trying to become so I can surely oblige, now shut up. A day will soon come when you thank me for your release and it is the only thing I can think of for a reason not to strike you. Now....good day sir."

With that Skylar turned and head back towards the entrance he had come in. When he got to the top of the stairs Skylar opened the door slowly, quickly re-entering the local area and quietly, yet quickly closed the door behind him. Skylar glanced around hoping that no one saw him and began to walk towards the exit. Tarcel.... a halfling. His mind flashed back to the tavern he had been to earlier that day with his old friends, trying to remember a halfling. Though he couldn't remember a halfling he remembered an informative barmaid who might be some help.

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Cricket

An emanation of footsteps could be heard down the halls of the Gaol. Apparently, some fresh meat has recently arrived from the outside world. Who it was could not be seen. Why he was here was not known. Where he came from was not to be asked. What his name was could not be spoken. The reason being was because the man was unconscious--though that was not unusual, since prisoners are often knocked out to be brought to this place.

The cell that the guards were taking him was quite near the entrance, and light seemed to be the most prevalant in that area. The guards walked one cell down from where they came in, turned right, and continued walking until they reached the second cell door. It was quite a convenient spot, and the air wasn't exactly as stuffy as most cells turn out to be. The guards reached the gate, and one of them reached for his keys on his belt. The men were completely shadowed, and the only thing that could be deciphered was the relative shape of their body. They were rather large and bulky. Or more correctly, like bodies that have been on too many steroids. They opened the gate and slid the fresh body in into the cell.

The cell wasn't exacty a pleasant one. Algae grew near a crack where water leaked. Different assortments of writings and lines decorated the wall. Even a rat could be seen running in and out of a little hole. But, compared to most of the place, this seemed to be one of the better kept cells.

A man sat in the corner, tilting his head in curiosity as to who his new potential room-mate was going to be. "Good day to you," he said nodding his head and giving a salute to the guards. No response today. Jim, as he called himself, always had an array of hope that he would eventually be proven innocent by showing off his gentleman-like stature and kind words. It has been 5 years since he began hoping. The best results that came from it seemed to be either cold silence or some slandorous name-calling. It was unimaginable what response he got on a bad day.

Ironically, the body was somehow awaken as soon as the cell door was locked and closed with a loud knock of wood on stone. The man who layed there could hear footsteps emanate and walk away from where he lay.

Seeing that the guy on the ground seemed to shuffle around a bit, Jim decided to question it to see if he would get a response. Edward, the man laying on the floor, heard the man speak and ask him, "Serale there. Name's Jim. Watch'ya in for?"

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Edward Antonus

Edward awoken to a dank and unfriendly enviroment, and lifted his body up from to ground. He sat up, and rubbed his forehead, which was stringed with confusion. "Where am I?" Turning around to see the bars made Edward grimace. "A... jail? What... where..." He then was startled by the man who had called himself "Jim". Standing up, and dusting himself off, the young man looked a little dazed, and confused.

"What am I in for...? I... I have no idea. All I remember is... getting my portrait painted at the festival in Abestat... and the rest is all blurry. I don't remember... But... I don't understand... Why am I in here? Maybe I could remember sometime soon..." Edward sighed, and thought of what they could do to him. Edward did not remember why he was in here, but he had the sense in his self that he did no wrong. "Well... Jim... I hope I may be released soon... I believe I was falsely accused, despite my lack of memory on what happened that caused me to awaken here." Edward looked at the algae cultivated around a water hole, and made a face of mild disgust.

Seeing that there isn't much else to do, or think about, Edward turned to the man that lived in the cell before he came hence. "Well, I would like to ask, why are you here in this unwelcoming place?" Edward remembered about his horse left behind at the Bloomsbury, and also thought of his trip to Arkdun. I wonder what is going on... who placed me here?

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Cricket

Jim, who seemed to be sitting on a bench in the shadows, gave a rather enthusiastic,"Reeeaally?" His voice was gruff, and indicated he would probably be in his early 40s. It was almost raspy, but not quite.

"Hm. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. These supposed 'law enforcers' like to fill these rut-holes with both the likes of innocent and guilty." Silence temporarily fills the air, as if both of you were in some type of contemplation.

After the extremely brief intermission, Jim sighs and leans forward, revealing only a lower part of his body. "You know, they must have hit ya pretty hard for you not to remember why you're here." He gave a hearty sigh, as if he were to lay out some past experience. This wasn't the case, though.

He continues, "So....got a name? Or did you forget that too, hmm? I've met people who've forgotten their name before, so you wouldn't be the first one to do so. It seems a lot of people here get some sort of amnesia." He gave a slight laugh under his breath, as if to laugh at his own mental joke. "In fact, I'd say half of them get amnesia from the beatings they get in here. But, I'm babbling. Let's go back to the introductions again. And you are?"

It had seemed that he ignored you're last question. Whether it was intentional or not was inquirable.

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Edward Antonus

"A name... ? Yes, I do.. I am Edward Verius Antonus, but, of course, you may just call me Edward. I was hoping to have fun at the festival before I was to head to Arkdun. It is rumored that there are several opportunities in politics and learning in that recently rebuilt city, yet, I think it may not be the safest of them all." Edward decided to stop there, since he thought the cellmate would obivously not be interested in Arkdun.

Taking in a deep sigh, Edward thought Jim may have spent a long time in here, after hearing the raspy voice of the man. "So, you said many people both innocent and guilty were recently thrown in here? Sounds like the Prefect of this city might be supersitious of something. Maybe it was when the Arkdunis pulled into port here not too long ago. Maybe it is due to the rumors of pirates... Well, I only hope that I don't stay long... Perhaps, if I try hard enough, I can remember what exactly happened.." Edward tried to dig up his memory to find out what exactly happened. Everything to Edward was just confusing, and jumbled in a myriad of different things.

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Taul Pellares

ooc: I hate doing this sort of thing, but I think you may have accidentally skipped over my previous post...

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Cricket

In the shadows, you could tell that Jim tilted his head to his right a bit. Unfortunately, you can't see any signs of him beginning to speak, as his face is totally melded into the darkness. His voice came suddenly after another large sigh.

"Yes." A long pause came forth before another sound was emmited. "The person you are talking to now was innocent when he was thrown in here."

Jim placed his head back to its upright position, then turned it left. It seemed as if he was trying to give a new perspective on his looks, though he was failing quite utterly. Before he said anything else, Jim gave a rather large inhale, giving the notion he was about to make a long speech. Again, this was not the case.

"I know nothing about what has been happening in the current years. It's a shame. I did so like Abestat when...." His voice trails while his head visibly slumps forwards.

For yet another few seconds there is deathly silence, which becomes broken by rather haggard coughs and chokes from Jim. His hands were lifted up to his neck, as if something became caught in his throat. Jim's body started to shake quite a bit, as saliva and phlegm plopped on the ground around him. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and lowered his head once again in a rather limp position.

A voice, not at all like Jim's, came from the man that seemed to have a swift death and reviving. "Who....the hell...are you? AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY CELL!?"
Without waiting for your response, Jim, or the new soul that seemed to be in Jim's body, raised quickly and ran towards you out of the shadows. A face of anger jumped out of the darkness, as if it was a snake about to strike.

A dagger seemingly teleported into his hands, as he grabbed your shirt by sheer surprise. One hand holding you and one hand with a dagger near your throat, the man confidently downsized you with a demeaning question. "Do you want to guess what I do with scum that I don't know? Well, I'll tell you...I I bite all of their skin off until they die a merciless death!" The pallid face stared at you with blood-red eyes that seemed to be bull's-eyes. His fairly long brown hair that sloped down to his shoulders sprinkled around his face. His nose, centering is fairly young face, became crooked as he snarled menacingly. Something seemed wrong though, as he paused without doing anything for quite some time.

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Edward Antonus

Edward was shocked to hear that Jim was also thrown in the cell as an innocent man. Wha... That means trouble, does it not? Edward continued to listen until the man slumped over as if he were unconcious, and then turned into a whole different person.

"What is going on?" Edward said, but before he could be answered, the man tore into Edward, and immediately had a dagger at his neck. Who is this demon who hath came at me like this? Edward winced as the breath of the man who was formerly Jim beat down on his face. "Scum you don't know? But I thought I had just intr.. introduced meself to you, sir! And I didn't choose to be here! The guards placed me here! Please... don't kill me..." Edward knew if he fought back, he would probably be labeled as the aggressor of this brawl to the guards' point of views, but if he called out to the guards, maybe the monstrosity that had emerged from the corner of the cell may force his dagger into Edward's neck.

Edward felt helpless and did not know what to do at all. Oh no... I just hope I don't die... I have so much to live for... so much in my life I have to discover... so much about my past that I have yet to find out... Edward closed his eyes, and called out to Diana for protection against this foe. Diana, dear goddess and protector of Telath from those who dare defile it... please, guard me from this fiend who threatens my life...

[Dundridge Silverwind]

Dundridge marches in with a slight limp. He looks around for the Prefects office. When he finds it, he knocks on the door. When asked who he is, he replies "Private Dundridge, transferee from the Prime militia. I was told by a gate guard to come here."

[Cherish]

The prefect sits behind his desk, his ash brown hair feathered over his forehead as he bent to his task of writing on the parchment on his desk. He looked up to see the Private emerage from the open door. He listened to the fellow, then nods.

" Parchments?" When Dundridge handed him his Visa and parchment work, he scanned over them. He wrote a little note on a piece of Parchment and then handed the lot back to the private. " I see there is a limp in your walk, so I'm assigning you to the west tower. You will begin training of Archery as soon as you are told, that is all." He dismisses you to head to the west tower with your note of where you will be assigned.

[Dundridge Silverwind]

Dundridge salutes, does an about face, and marches out the door, still with a limp.


OOC: Would that be the western gate?