Dead Man Walking! A Way of the Wicked Campaign Phase III (Inactive)

Game Master bwatford

Jalik bloodied but back on his feet looks at Hecate in awe, "Absolutely Masterful young one."

Etna grins at Hecate's proposal "You are so devious, dear. Very well. If we all agree on this, I will submit a candidate for you to choose."

"And what stops the one who stays alive from expressing his... displeasure at being chosen by one of you two some time down the road, be it sooner or later? We are hardly the nicest people in the realms here, so I would expect him or her to hold a grudge for being offered up as a sacrifice even if he is not the one who hangs today," Erevan offers calmly. "At the very least, whatever trust there may exist between them and you, I should think it shattered afterwards. I really do not think the phrase 'no hard feelings' would hold all that much water where we charming people are concerned."

"I'm in." replies Paimon to Hecate's plan.

"Um... Oh." Hecate falters at Erevan's disapproval. "I suppose they'd have to swear by As - by you-know-who* not to seek revenge. If they refuse to do that, the rest of us d- deal with them." The girl stutters. She knows what that implies: killing. Not something she ever thought she'd end up contemplating, much less discussing. Still, desperate times...

*been waiting for a chance to use that... In character, no less :)

"And what stops the one who stays alive from expressing his... displeasure at being chosen by one of you two some time down the road, be it sooner or later? We are hardly the nicest people in the realms here, so I would expect him or her to hold a grudge for being offered up as a sacrifice even if he is not the one who hangs today," Erevan offers calmly. "At the very least, whatever trust there may exist between them and you, I should think it shattered afterwards. I really do not think the phrase 'no hard feelings' would hold all that much water where we charming people are concerned."

Tkaara stares at the deceptive slayer, as though attempting to delve into his soul. You can almost imagine that her eyes sparkle like stars in the night sky as she does so.

"My goodness, dear lady," Erevan quips, addressing Hecate with a look of mock surprise as he suppresses a chuckle. "And to think poor old Sir Balin thought there was hope for you yet."

Meeting the drug-addicted barristers narrow eyed stare Victor replies simply. "No." and then tilts his head and asks as if genuinely curious, "Are you?"

Holding her gaze for as long as it will rest on him Victor wonders if she'll be the one to kill him.

Listening to the back and forth as Jalik acts the sycophant, Paimon acts uncaring, Erevan the only one with an opinion Victor decides to answer Tkaara's question for Erevan. "Then we would at least know where each of us stood wouldn't we? Straightforward and harsh but then what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, yes?"

Meeting the drug-addicted barristers narrow eyed stare Victor replies simply. "No." and then tilts his head and asks as if genuinely curious, "Are you?"

Tkaara smiles at the former inquisitor, the silverish now readily showing on her lips as well as her tongue.

She continues to stare at him with her oddly sparkling eyes.
It is your choice if you want to vote or not. If you don't then I will agree with Etna's choice and the decision shall be quickly made.

"My goodness, dear lady," Erevan quips, addressing Hecate with a look of mock surprise as he suppresses a chuckle. "And to think poor old Sir Balin thought there was hope for you yet."

Hecate bites her lip in dismay. "If you don't approve, then we can drop it - it was just an idea..." She's not sure how to deal with Erevan's good-natured mockery. Bursting into tears is probably not going to add to her credibility right now. She puts on her best barrister face, the one she learnt from her father. "The fact is, we have to choose someone to die. How should we do that?"

"I choose Melphael." Paimon says unceremoniously. "No offense, mate, but shouldn't we give the crowd what they want?"

"I should think that the simplest way would be just that actually," he offers, the words spoken pleasantly and sounding almost like advice, though without the least bit of condescension behind them. "Choosing."

"And if you would allow one more small piece of advice, Hecate? Do not seek my approval or anyone's here for that matter, not until you get to know us better," he adds in the same friendly tone. "Provided we are at least given that opportunity, that is."

Just remember, this is pre-Balin voting. People are welcome to change their votes as often as they want until Sir Balin returns and asks for names. Or, until our DM, who is probably doing something really foolish, like RL work or RL school, returns to clarify things.

Victor sees the barristers silver tinged smile and gives a smile of his own, it was a wonder seeing her work. 'I wonder how long she would have lasted in my chair?'

"I do believe you just echoed the sentiments of all of us here; No one cares a whit about the other." he states, cracking a grin, wondering if the barrister would maintain her cool. Judging by the color of her lips, she would. "And no one wants to die either."

"But I'll vote." he adds quickly, "Don't worry, I'll vote. It seems the four of you have come to an understanding then." He says, nodding in Etna's, Paimon's and Hecate's general direction...

Interrupted by Paimon casting his vote Victor is a bit taken aback by his brashness. 'That one does not fear to die it seems, how can he be so nonchalant?'

Shrugging he looks at Tkaara with and expression that says Now what? and waits.

Gariel stands tall a moment looking to the group.

Now is the time to think of yourselves. I must choose to go on with whom I feel can aid me the best. I have noting against any of you, but I have my name I will give to Balin.

Fools are trying to make this political. They are not thinking of their future. Best to be bold and think who can help the most if we are to attempt an escape.

"I don't care in the least what the crowd wants," Felrin responds quietly to Paimon, "we're in here because of what the crowd wants. But I vote for Melphael as well. He may serve the same Master as I, but he's rash and impulsive, and those things will get in the way if we attempt an escape, as unlikely as that is."

"We are in here because of what this government, and its unfortunately not so damnable church wants. They want blood. Balin wants 'justice'. I think we must give a little to gain a lot. Though he is clearly the most successful dissident among us, it will be to our advantage if he dies so that we may live a bit longer." Paimon's tone is hushed, but steady. It is clear he had come to this conclusion long before they began asking the question of "who".

The Doctor remains silent as they are led from the dining hall and out to the gallery. Despite himself, Sir Balin's words from earlier have shaken him, and so he cannot help but scan the crowd in a vain attempt to locate his wife. If she is out there, she is lost in the crowd, as he cannot find her, nor anyone else he recognizes. Not surprising, I should think. I am a foreigner, and little loved. I am sure my mother shed her tears when I disappeared from Ustalav years ago. No one else will weep for me, unless Talia does so in private.

After Jalik's incident, Ottakar, in line behind Hecate, helps her to her feet, lifting the girl easily, if awkwardly, considering the chains. He continues to keep his thoughts to himself as the others bicker back and forth, understandably, considering the circumstances. He watches the crowd. He watches the judges. He watches the guards and his fellow prisoners. He watches, silently. And he waits for death. The only question remaining, was whose death it would be.

Jalik looked around once more at each of the twelve others handcuffed along with him and whispered,

"So what if we need to pick one of us to die today. Asmodeus wills us to follow the natural order and pick the weakest first. For you who will die, death is but an end to a beginning and in the rebirth there is strength. So think long, think hard of your answer to Sir Balin as he will do the bidding of Asmodeus's will."

After speaking he peeks once more to the people below before lowering his head. With his eyes closed he remains silent and motionless until the group moves on.

Tkaara shakes her head in silent frustration at the ongoing rantings of those who clearly are just as deluded by divine power as the Mitrans with whom she has lived for so many years. When the votes begin to spill forth, she smiles inwardly hoping that the rest will vote similarly and allow her to remain outside of, and above, the convicted's politics. When she hears Jalik speak the Prince of Devil's name, she cringes once more and hopes that the guards behind did not pick on the name.

Looking several people over in the line at the grey skinned prisoner, she stares at him until she catches his eye:
This is not the will of their sun god, nor the will of the First. This is simply a sick twist of a judicial system in which pompous nobles have their lust for blood satiated by witnessing one of us killed. Once they have cheered as someone's neck snaps and their body twitches as it hangs from the noose with their life slowly slipping away, they will return to their "holier than thou" homes where they will kiss their wives, chastise their servants, and wait for then next grand spectacle designed to keep them loyal to the throne.

As all of you look out the windows at the pre-start festivities going on in honor of the occasion and you see King Markadian V making his way toward the throne built up on the stage, waving to the crowd as they cheer on his approach. He is flanked on one side by what looks to be the Matharyn High Priest of Mitra and on the other an older gentleman that looks to be a court wizard of some sort, dressed in all white robes and a long flowing gray beard and customary pointed hat. He walks with a slight limp and carries a staff.

Your onlooking of the sights below is suddenly interrupted again by Sir Balin clearing his throat behind each of you. The look on his face is priceless as he can see the toil in each one of the prisoners eyes. Your eyes.

"So the time has come, the hangman's noose awaits, and the rest of you shall go forth before the king to be sentenced for your crimes respectively."

"There will be no mercy this day for your judgement is at hand. The light of Mitra will prevail, even into the dark places and will lay low the wicked and justly uphold the righteous before all here to witness."

"Tell me now for your time is short, who do thy evil dooers wish to pay for their crime today? Before the eyes of Talingarde and her laws. You all will die within three days of reaching your final destination anyway, why wait? Show a little backbone and stand up for your crime before the people. For surely such noble creatures as some of you think you are have some form of honor. Some form of responsibility. Do not grovel for your life. Stand up! Rise Up! Surely the powers of hell has some brave souls, for what I have seen of some of you fiens is little more than cowardliness and fear. Surely your evil masters will punish you in the pit of hell for hiding behind another soul, afraid to say his name, afraid to give your life for what you believe. COWARDS! ALL OF YOU!"

He looks each one of you in the eyes, boldly without flinching, staring at each of you as if he could peer into your soul. He walks the line of you, down one end and then back again.

"Speak now or your own name will be voted for the gallows this day!"

"Melphael, the pale elf!" Paimon shouts, smirking as the crowd cheers hungrily.

Erevan looks back at Sir Balin, his face impassive, his eyes and expression devoid of anything resembling guilt over the name he is about to utter or ill will towards the one it belongs to. "Melphael," he says simply, his voice not rising like the tall half-orc's, but instead remaining even and calm as always.

Felrin's eyes and face match Erevan's, displaying no emotion. One day it will be your name I say, Balin.

The reasons he gave earlier still stand, and Felrin repeats his selection, "Melphael."

Ah, this speech was less entertaining than the others. Maybe he's mad at us?
Etna chuckles, both at her own joke and at Balin's speech. Fixing her eyes on the Paladin, she says calmly her candidate.
"Gabriel."

Hecate nods, gravely, at Erevan's advice. "True. I'm out of my element here, but you are right. I must stand on my own feet - or trip," she adds, somewhat wryly.

At Sir Balin's return, Hecate grits her teeth at his expression. One day, you and I will spend quality time together... Either in this life or the next, I swear it. She does her best not to flinch visibly as he shouts. Violence is very much not a part of her life.

It would be easy, for many reasons, to follow the others in naming Melphael. He is quarrelsome - but there are two in any quarrel.

"Jalik."

Jalik listens with his head still down and eyes closed but does not move while Sir Balin rambles on. He thinks at each of the weaknesses of the twelve others around him.

As Sir Balin stops talking Jalik raises his head up slowly to stare deep into Sir Balins eyes.

"Sir Balin, I'll do your bidding. The weak amongst us and the name I present is Melphael."

I am no coward knight. To think I once wanted to be you. I call my own name. Gabriel Hale. Son of Marcus and Anna Hale. He looks to the crowd to meet his fathers gaze.

These men and women may be corrupt in your eyes but I will not presume I have the right to judge any of them. I can only judge myself. So now I will show you knight what it means to have honor and to take ownership of ones deeds. You would do well to take note for you have slain many in your quest for righteousness.

What the hell did I just do. I let his words of honor get the best of me. Gabriel you fool. These fiends will now just throw you to the wolves.

Tkaara is about to speak when the red skinned half fiend begins his statement. The brashness of naming himself as the one destined for the gallows is beyond surprising. In fact, it is so unexpected that the usually unfazeable former barrister is left with a rather stunned expression. Most likely, none would have noticed this as the others were assuredly just as surprised.

Once the rather stunned looks of the group had subsided, if partially, Tkaara regathers her senses and decides how the announce her decision:
Sir Balin. While we all know that this is a mockery, a school yard favoritism competition, you have placed upon us the burden of naming another for the noose, or to have our own name chosen. This is not justice and is done simply to appease the twisted morals of the mostly noble gathering without. Other than a few loved ones, or perhaps haters, that crowd is primarily those nobles with nothing better to do than sit about watching their servants work and, when the time comes, dress up to watch a state sponsored murder. It is with these thoughts that I hope you consider what you are condoning this day.

Well, you wish a spectacle and I have heard what many of those shackled with me today have done. I know not if all are full of lies, or have spoken the truth as I have not had the chance to investigate their tales. Nonetheless, based upon what I have heard, several are here for what you call treason. I believe what these people have done is not treason, but rather an expression of their free will. The young girl being arrested for studying that which Talingarde considers taboo is a prime example of this. These, I cannot name.

One has even named himself. While I find this act of sacrifice far more noble than that which I would attribute to those seated below expectantly waiting for blood to be shed, I cannot name him as I find his actions to not be unjust. He was cast out of his family and society because of the color of his skin. As is apparent by the two here with evident blood of angels, ones ancestors do not make us who we are, and to have prejudged him before he committed any wrongful act, a judgment which caused his downfall, is something that I would consider to be more criminal than his acts to survive.

She then pauses and licks her lips, the silver clearly more pronounced that it was in the cell earlier.

However, there are some who have committed crimes which would be punishable by death in most lands. It is from among these that I shall choose. The three which seem the most gruesome are the doctor and his, shall we say scientific experiments. The woman who murdered her family as vengeance for their causing her love to be sent to his death. And, the pale elf who claims to have slaughtered a village.

Tkaara smiles and then looks up and down the line of prisoners, her gaze briefly resting on each that she named, before continuing on the watch the others.
Of these, I believe that the slaughtering of a village which resulted in the death of so many innocent people, people whose souls will go to Mitra's realm, is the most egregious. For this reason, I also shall name the pale elf, Melphael as my choice for your twisted ruling class to watch die as they eat their truffles and laugh gaily.

As she finishes this, Tkaara turns and stares at Sir Balin.
Remember what I have said Inquisitor, may you be judged one day as you have judged so many others and found wanting in the manner you have blindly undertaken your inquisition.

Victor hold back for a bit when Sir Balin comes to gloat and collect the votes, waiting with his head bowed but his eyes roaming, his ire growing toward the man with every word he uttered. He claimed to stand on the high mountain, yet he partook in this stage show of cruelty, trying to strip away any dignity anyone might hold. Victor had done so time and again, but at least he had the decency to do so in private, he had never held anyone up as a spectacle, maybe he should try it sometimes if the opportunity presented itself.

Pondering his choices as others state theirs Victor shares in the group surprise when Gabriel puts his own name forward. A foolish gesture at best in Victors opinion as he ran straight into the inquisitors goading.

Ignoring his misguided notion of honor Victor puts in his own vote.

"Melphael." he says simply, quite frankly Victor would rather burn at the stake than have the notion looming over him of that barbarian tearing out his throat with his teeth, at least he might get some rest as he awaited the executioners leisure at Branderscar, there would be no rest with the Pale Elf around.

Amestri watches incredulously as the votes are cast, the crowd seeming to crave the upcoming death, particularly, it seems for both witnesses and criminals, that of the pale elf. Had we the spine or even a modicum of pride, we would have spurned the choice all together. Force their hand and thus reduce the level of pleasure the crowd would attain. But we are a group of villains. Who could trust that all would refuse?

"You have called yourself a warrior for good and law, yet you desire to play to the masses, giving them a death to chortle over right before their eyes. To watch one of us dance by our neck."

"Is it lawful," she continues, glancing at the barristers above and Tkaara nearby, "for those marked as criminals to act as a judge and jury? To, effectively, supercede the judicial system. This, a system where there are specific punishments for specific crimes. Yet here you stand, threatening the possibility of death towards those whose crime does not warrant it, should they not decide upon the death of another? Is this what is considered Law in Talingarde now?"

"Is it even 'good' to take glee in witnessing death, no matter how deserved? Would not the knowledge that they have been sentenced and will be sentenced to death suffice for the 'good' individual?"

"Take care 'paladin'. As has been mentioned, you youself may be subject to the same 'laws' and 'good' that you have displayed here."

She turns to look at the crowd before turning back to the knight "The crowd wants blood. I would almost consider offering myself, if only to have my father witness the last scion of House Atezadeh fall, but it seems one among us has already volunteered for the post as entertainer of the masses. Rather than offer up the pale elf that seems to rile the crowd so, I will place my vote with the lesser known... the volunteer."

"Gabriel."

Hmm... at this point if I say any name other than Gabriel, then mathematically Melphael cannot win. And since I have no intention of naming the devilkin, foolish as he may be... oh well, I never cared for religious fanatics anyway.

"I hate to disappoint you, Balin. You mentioned something earlier about the pits of Hell, did you not? I imagine you are quite eager to send me there. Yet even a simpering, unevolved cretin such as yourself must have some ability to count, surely, and so you know that will not be happening this day. I will even do you a favor, and name myself." He smirks at Gabriel. "I name Doctor Ottakar Wilken for the noose. Now spare us anymore of your pedantic grandstanding and hang the damned elf before you bore us any further."

Tkaara cocks her eye at Amestri as she speaks, taking particular note with certain statements. When the warpriest has finished:
Take care with the allegations and accusation you spread family killer. The inquisitor has already given a reprieve to those of us whose crime does not warrant death. Those who may be voted for are limited to those whose crimes, at least pursuant to the laws of this land, warrant death. We are not judge and jury. All we are doing is deciding upon the time and method with which the sentence shall be carried out.

As should be readily apparent, I do not condone this method of entertaining the gathered nobles, but my opinion was not asked when this system was chosen. If you or the others had not wished to vote and desired to not participate in choosing the one to die, you could have done so. I previously mentioned that only Etna and I truly had something to lose by not voting. If we had chosen to abstain, then our lives could have been forfeit, rather than wasted away in the salt mines, although some might consider the quick death a lessor punishment.

Amestri nods at Tkaara. "I had not thought to spread accusations nor allegations. My words were related to the fact that you were under threat where, had you refused to vote, your name would have been added to the roster of those who could ultimately end up at the end of the rope. That seems to me to be beyond what the laws of this land should allow. As I am not a barrister, nor trained in the law, I was not sure it was a possibility, thus my question."

"Never had I intended to allege that you condone this in any fashion. I thus offer my apologies to the whore and addict for the misunderstanding."

Victor smirks at Dr. Willken's insolence, wondering if the 'paladin' would react to it or simply ignore the fact that he was being ridiculed by a man in chains.

"This is the Kings Court, ladies. This is a monarchy, he is the monarch, his word superceeds the law and therefore the law is whatever he says it is. The bastard can do as he pleases and no one can say a word about it." he interjects into the argument of law, intentions and the meaning of words, with a sneer on his face, contempt written all over it. Suddenly he smirks as a thought strikes him, "Why do you think he and the church get along so well?" he notes, giving Sir Balin a bemused smirk.

"Now now, there's no need for name calling." Says the Fool to the Warpriest. "As much as I would love to hear you two hash out natural laws, civil liberties, and other legal topics, there is something much more pressing at hand. A good number of us have just voted to condemn a man to a public spectacle. Each of us is as deserving as he, and so each of us should take time to let him know that we only do what is expedient." With that he looks at the pale elf and with utmost sincerity says, "Its just business. I know you understand."

He then looks around at his fellow prisoners, his face solemn. "Will none among you Asmodeans send the man properly off to your hells? Who among you will give this poor elf his last rites?"

Considering Paimon's statement briefly, and deciding that responding to the warpriest's slurring to not be worth the time and energy it would take, Tkaara turns and looks at Melphael:
I am not a priest or other servant of the Dark Lord. But, may your soul travel quickly to the lower levels. And, should your execution be deemed unjust. May your soul be returned to this land to wreak havoc upon those who had you unjustly condemned.

Etna watches the entertaining bickering between Tkaara and Amestri, before heeding Paimon's advice.
"Melpahel" she says as a last farewell to the elf "it seems I will never be able to show you the complete written version of that contract. May centuries of torment shape your soul as a powerful devil that will serve your god".

Amestri glances at Paimon at his admonishment. "She seemed to take offense at something I had said that never included an accusation against her... Regardless, it was not name calling. As she called me for what I am, I merely offered her the same in kind," she says with a shrug.

"But you are correct. You should offer up your names so that he may hold on to them as he visits his Lord. It is possible that you will even receive a boon, as such business is His enjoyment," she says, seemingly sincere in her assessment.

To Melphael she speaks: "May your Prince offer you a place for what you have begun and may my Lady speed your vengeance against those who sit in the gallery to enjoy your dance of death or any other who have so wronged you."

Hecate sighs inwardly at the exchange of insults. There is a plethora of available enemies, and yet still we bicker among ourselves, she thinks.

The girl jumps at Paimon's remarks. "Oh! Um, I know the theory but I never practised in public... " She trails off.

She turns and looks at Melphael. She didn't condemn him, so feels no guilt. Her pale eyes darken as she concentrates.

Hecate's not even sure if that's the correct rite; she taught herself from fragments of text, painstakingly pieced together. There is much she doesn't know. She's sorry Melphael won't be around to teach her. She could have learned much, even in three days.

'Camaraderie? Seriously?' Victor look incredulously at those who offer up prayers and condolences to the Pale Elf, had they perhaps known him from a time before? It was impossible to tell as Victor had only first seen any of them in person a few hours ago. Thinking back he can't remember if any of the files he's seen suggested any, but they seemed willing to risk an awful lot of wrath for him.

Thinking of the fragmented texts about Asmodeus he's gleamed from the Mirtan archives Victor can't remember any funeral rites dedicated to him, wasn't this Pharasma's realm? Besides, the elf was a cold-blooded mass-murderer, what hope could he have for the after life?

Keeping his silence Victor just watches and waits, the first rule of prison; Keep your head down. The elf had failed at it with his intimidation tactics, Victor had no intentions of drawing the guards ire.

Sir Balin listens to each of you with great interest, the barristers trying to quote law, and others that spoke the Infernal language. If he had his way he would lop their heads off right here and right now for just speaking the name of evil and its language. Clearly some of the ones not charged with a offense that was deserving of death had more to hide than the court was led to believe. But still something bothered Sir Balin.

Sir Balin went to speak "..." but the words did not come out.. he hung his head as if in thought.

A few loooong minutes passed without him uttering a single word. Finally he looks up at Gabriel and at the doctor.

"I did not expect any of you to show honor. Like most of you have done is to cast aside another so that you could live for a few more days. Willing to not only hang another, but have it done so in great humiliation on their part, in front of a mass crowd. But these two? These TWO? A Fiend! and a Monster! shows more courage and more honor than the rest of you combined." he said as if troubled by the entire ordeal.

He then straightens his countenance and begins anew with his old familiar tone "Justice is not to be served by the guilty. All but two of you failed the test. Failed to show honor in the face of adversity and failed to stand up and accept punishment for your crimes. Doctor Ottakar Wilkins and Gabriel Hale, a devil and a monster you may be, but both of you are free from the gallows this day. Who ultimately will hang will be decided by the king, but I hope.... and I PRAY!! That this one called Melphael, the Pale Elf, that all of you are so eager to throw to the crowd in your place. Ends up your cellmate at Branderscar Prison for your actions against him."

Then a smile crosses his face as he continues "But the King will decide that for each of you and will tell you who will hang."

He then motions for the guards to bring you. You are all then led back around the twisting corridors and finally come out on the edge of the courtyard. You are placed against the wall as the crowd watches. the King is seated on his throne with a plethora of guards in front of him and the priest and wizard by his side.

Sir Balin yells "LET THE JUDGEMENTS BEGIN!"

First judgement coming up momentarily.

The trumpets sound and the courtyard goes silent. Sir Balin grabs the arm of Hecate first and says for the guards to release her from her chain that connects her to the others. As the guards do so Sir Balin smiles at the girl with tenderness and gives a slight wink and then whispers in her ear "I am going to miss our little talks."

She is then brought before the King for her crime. She is charged with Consorting with the Dark Powers (Witchcraft )

The King then speaks. "Hecate Reeve you have been charged and found guilty of Witchcraft."
The crowd ooohhss and aggghhss at the announcement, one old woman in the crowd screams "Burn her!!" and then others join in the chant.

The King continues "You shall be taken from this court and from this castle and you shall be burned at the stake until you are dead."

"The sentence shall be carried out in no less than three days after you reach Branderscar prison."

Hecate is then whisked to one side of the stage and re-shackled there. Away from the rest of the prisoners.

Congratulations Hecate Reeve, you have made the final six.

The next prisoner to be taken before the King will be Dr. Ottakar Wilkens

He is then brought before the King for his crime. He is charged with Murder

The King then speaks. "Ottakar Wilkens you have been charged and found guilty of Murder. You have killed without just cause and been condemned for it."

The King continues "You shall be taken from this court and from this castle and you shall have your head removed from your body by the executioner."

"The sentence shall be carried out in no less than three days after you reach Branderscar prison."

The doctor is then whisked to one side of the stage and reshackled there along with Hecate. Away from the rest of the prisoners.

Congratulations Dr. Ottakar Wilkens, you have made the final six.

The next prisoner to be taken before the King will be Paimon The Fool

He is then brought before the King for his crime. He is charged with Blasphemy

The King then speaks. "Paimon The Fool you have been charged and found guilty of Blasphemy."

The King continues "You shall be taken from this court and from this castle and you shall be burned at the stake until you are dead."

"The sentence shall be carried out in no less than three days after you reach Branderscar prison."

Paimon is then whisked to one side of the stage and re-shackled there along with Hecate and Ottkar. Away from the rest of the prisoners.

Congratulations Paimon The Fool, you will be Alternate #1.

The court then does a surprising change of pace as the next time they call a name it is not a single name, but two that are called.

Felrin Vennax and Aylene Sokorra are both called in front of the king at the same time.

The King speaks "Felrin Vennax you have been tried and found guilty of Murder, and you Aylene Sokorra have been found guilty of Blasphemy."

"Felrin Vennax, you are guilty of murder and shall have your head removed for your crimes. You are hearby sentenced to Brandescar prison and in no less than three days upon your arrival, your sentence shall be carried out."

The King then bows his head slightly.....

"Aylene Sokorra, you have been found guilty before the eyes of the law and before Mitra of Blasphemy in the highest degree. You are hereby sentenced to be tied to a stake and set afire until you are dead. This sentence is to be carried out immediately."

As soon as the king says this a rush of servants each with a pile of logs in their hands rushes forth from a bunch of different entrances and begins to erect a fire stake and place wood and oil around it off to one side by the gallows, but not to close to the crowd or stage to cause harm when lit. Aylene is hastily dragged to the stake and tied to it.

The King addresses the crowd "Let it be known and recorded that the justice of the court and the justice of Mitra is both strong and pure. Let the record also show that she was found guilty in a court of law, with due representation and due process. She has been sentenced according to the law and therefore her sentence is being carried out as outlined in the law."

He then turns to Aylene "You may address this court if you wish before your sentence is carried out, as outlined as your right in the law prior to a public execution."

The crowd hushes and waits silently for a response.

Congratulations Felrin, you are one of the final six.