"Well, as long as Iomedae doesn't have a problem with this brand of justice, who am I to object? The legal system is what it is" Demaiv says with a sidelong glance at Rekkart. "Of course... you've already let one innocent man die in this courthouse, Sir, so another won't do much harm."
Demaiv looks at Wade, saying [b]"Our group tonight has been haunted by the spirit of Jarbin Mord, a man who we've found tonight to be innocent, purposefully sent to the gallows by a man... named... Trabe."[ /b] Demaiv's eyes widen as realization dawns.
Staggering a bit as she recieves yet another vision, Dania speaks slowly as she adjusts back to reality and tries to recall earlier events that night. "There is a note in the office of another magistrate in this building, adressed to a high magistrate, but left unfinished that confesses his knowledge of magister Trabes travesty of justice. It was while in that room we recieved a vision of the hobgoblin killing the author of that note to keep him silent. And just now I've recieved another vision. A woman, knitting a sweater for a small child, a figure comes upon her and attempts to strike her, but she lashes out with one of the knitting needles and leaves his cheek bloody before he grabs an axe. Mercifully the vision ended there for me. Though I can still hear her voice in my head, begging to be avenged".
Zelaria's violet eyes are wide as she looks between the dashing young swordsman with the brilliant blue eyes and the bloody knitting needle in her hand. Obviously better informed than herself, Zelaria offers the young woman with the scarf the needle as proof of her vision, humbly not uttering another word.
If this man is a magistrate, why is it that they are all so opposed to his presence?
"Yes, Mord's ghost is here. It seems he wants vengeance for what happened to him and his family. We've encountered him several times so far. We need to know all we can to help us all get through this, so tell us the truth." Demaiv is trying his best to diffuse the situation diplomatically, but his words carry the threat of the ghost as well
"Trabe may have falsely convicted Mord, but there is still the true murderer who must be brought to justice. Do you sir have anything to you'd like to say or shall we summon Mord?"
Adanel would step between the now bleeding Trabe and the Wade as he snapped more forcefully than he meant.
"Demaiv! Quickly administer the healing liquid to Trabe before we lose him!"
Then, with a growl, he would advance on Wade in hopes of pushing the man back away from Trabe.
"Why did you do that? Do you wish to strike me now? I'm sure everyone else here would love to tell the town of how you struck an innocent."
As he moved forward, Adanel would open his arms wide so that if Wade chose to attack him, it would look all the worse on the man's character.
Demaiv will quickly rush to Trabe, with Adanel standing between him and Wade, and pour a shot of the healing serum down Trabe's throat as best he could.
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"I didn't...I mean..."
Seeing that his rash actions hadn't won him any praise, Wade quickly backed up and away from Adanel
As he did this, the healing potion started working on Trabe. He chocked out his words angrily; the potion had done more than just restored his body, but his spirit.
"HE DID IT! HE DID IT! HE HAS A SCAR UPON HIS CHEEK, JUST LIKE YOU SAID! I HAVEN'T ONE! HE DID IT! HE DID IT!"
And just as Wade crossed the threshold...
Mord appeared. He grabbed Wade and lifted him into the air.
Mord points to Rekkart. The paladin looks about him.
"Me? What about Killian?"
Killian pulls off the fake mustache.
"Killian died years ago in bar fight. I'm Sveth. Mord was my best and only friend, and I his. You alone can make this decision. Make sure, unlike last time, you make the correct one,"
Rekkart nods.
"Well...coupled with my vision...I know that Patrissa was paid to enchant me and Killian and Malgrim threatened to kill Haglark's child...Ebin had his awful reasons...and with his actions shown here...let me see the scar,"
Rekkart walked over and looked closely at Wade's cheek. There was indeed, hidden underneath his beard, a long deep scar upon Wade's cheek. The paladin sighs.
He addresses the heroes.
"I can't...I can't make this decision alone. It wouldn't be right. What do all of you think?"
"Sir Rekkart, this man has nor only caused the death of Mord, but also of all the others who died here tonight, even indirectly. Let Mord's spirit have his final peace" Demaiv turned away after speaking his peace. He was making sure Trabe didn't try to run. Also, he didn't want to see Mord at work.
"His actions speak for themselves. He is a coward willing to coerce and lie for his own nefarious reasons. Though I would see this man before a court, not for the good of law, but so that Mord might reclaim the dignity he deserved in life," Adanel would speak clearly while glaring at both Wade and Mord. He was pleased to see that justice would likely be seen soon, but not pleased by the way it had gone about. Lives he had sworn to protect had been taken and this did not sit well with him.
"But once justice is served, I will see Mord move on from here. His actions endangered those that were not involved."
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"Mother always told me and my brother that Lady Desna encourages us to make our own destiny. Our actions have repercussions. This man's have finally come back to reward him for his own callous and cruel actions." Aesh's eyes soften a little, "I cannot say that I condone taking justice into your own hands, but Mord was gravely wronged. I have no right to judge him."
"Though conflicted, ultimately I think that the Magistrate sealed his fate. Guilty."
"I can still hear the voice of the woman he murdered, begging me for vengance. He is not only guilty of killing her, but of allowing an innocent and grieving husband to killed in his place. I say this man deserves no mercy.
"Are we speaking of killing a man to appease a vengeful spirit?" Zelaria inquires. "Or simply judging him? I find his actions deplorable, but consider how many have already died for this one man. Is it justice to allow his rage to induce you all to murder another?"
Zelaria shakes her head. "Do as you want. I will have no part in the death of another."
"The crime he is guilty of was already judged worthy of a death sentance by a judge and jury. We just want to see the correct man recieve the sentance this time."
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Rekkart nods at the words of the heroes. He nods his head to Zelaria.
"I agree with you. But my vision was given to me by my goddess, Iomedae. Mord only killed Ebin. The others...those were killed by the evil spirits who do not rest until their executioner rests. Mord was actually protecting us the whole time,"
Rekkart straightens himself and addresses Mord.
"The Jury finds the defendant guilty,"
Mord nods.
With that, Mord pulls off the hood and rope around his neck and places it on Wade's.
"No! NO! NO! "
The ghost rises up through the ceiling, and as he does, the rope remains and binds to the ceiling. Once the Ghost had completely moved through the ceiling, he could no longer hold onto Wade...
A short drop.
A sudden stop.
And with that, the heroes had one more vision.
You find yourself outside the courthouse.
You see the morning sun rising.
In front of you is a gorgeous woman, a beautiful little boy, and a large, powerful looking man with a very ugly face.
This is Jarbin Mord and his wife and child, Malene and Gabe.
They wave at you, and Malene walks up with an arm load of the finest Varisian scarves you've ever seen, and places them around your neck.
Gently.
She walks back to her family, and they go arm an arm up into the sky on a bridge made of sunlight, with a thousand beautiful swallowtail butterflies flying all about them.
You awaken to the sounds of birds chirping.
The crisp morning air and the rising sun greets you.
You find yourself outside, lying on the ground, outside the courthouse, it's doors boarded up, as if they'd never been opened.
You'd think it had all been just a dream...
Except for the new looking red Varisian scarf looped around you neck.
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In front of you is a circle of backpacks and other gear; it is, in fact, your gear.
A glass bottle is in front of it all, with a note attached to it.
Hello! I'm sorry about last night, but after thinking about it, me and Mord both decided you'd be the best for the job. I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me.
I've taken Trabe to the local courthouse; hopefully, the magistrate there, a Lord Ironbriar, will see justice done.
Please, as a final parting gift, take this wine, and the bottle; both are magical.
May Desna's blessing be upon you always!
-Sveth
Amongst you all is one other person:
Sir Rekkart Cole.
Dania slowly sits up and looks all around her while fingering the new scarf about her neck. "That all really did happen. Didn't it?
Still moving a bit slowly, as if to make sure that she isn't going to suddenly wake again somewhere else, Dania walks over to her backpack and makes sure her stuff is all there. Looking back to the courthouse after she gathers her stuff, she shudders and says: "I don't know about the rest of you, but the sooner I get away from this place this better, it's still giving me the creeps. I'd like to suggest we all head to the nearest tavern. I think I need a drink before I try to put together all that's happened."
Zelladania begins to walk away a bit from the courthouse, then pauses to see if anyone else is coming with her or ha anything else to say. After looking to everyone, her gaze will settle on Demaiv to see what he chooses to do.
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"Yes, I believe so," Aesh lightly touches the scarf, remembering his father's scarf, much like the one now wrapped around his neck. "But I agree, let us leave this place... the memories of what happened here are a dark mark on my soul."
Aesh walks from PC to PC. As he does so, he speaks, "We have not been formally introduced. My name is Aeshuura Tirvani. My friends, of which I hope that you will accept me, call me Aesh."
He offers to shake hands. His face seems honest and open...
Demaiv awakens lazily, yawning as he gets up, as though he had a great night's sleep. After moving over to the gear and reading Zveth's note, Demaiv takes out his notebook and writes a quick reminder: Inquire about Zveth. Demaiv looks out to the horizon absent-mindedly. Apsu shows the Way, and He had put him with these people. Demaiv smiled. Apsu was a kind god.
"Yes, that definitely happened Dani. I think we should keep these scarves dear. Mord deserves to be remembered, despite everything we went through." Demaiv wraps the knitted red scarf a bit tighter around himself, putting his notebook away. "I believe at the very least I owe you a drink. That's what we agreed upon, if I'm not mistaken." Demaiv smiles at Dani as Aesh starts with his introductions.
"Demaiv Neikar, at your service Aesh." Demaiv says with a nod of the head, respect apparent on his face. "And I don't believe we were introduced during all that" Demaiv adds as he turns to the petite Varisian woman .
After waiting for the introductions to go around, Demaiv speaks up: "I am a native of Sandpoint, returning there after several years journeying, and probably where I will be heading after we have drinks. I would gladly enjoy the company on the road." The last sentence is spoken with his eyes on Dani, as she turns to look at him.
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"Well met, Demaiv!" Aesh claps the man on the shoulder as he shakes his hand in a firm grasp, "I was heading to Sandpoint for the Swallowtail Festival! They also say there is a great Thassilonian relic there, the Old Light! I had grown up with tales of the the ancient empire and the terrible Tyrants that ruled our people in eons past. There is much curiosity to be sated there!"
He turns to Zelaria, who has been quiet, "Young Zelaria, are you alright? You seemed to be much less talkative once we encountered the others..."
Zelaria takes some time to rise, and does so slowly, preferring to sit while she orientates herself. Several hours ago, she was in her cell, and then... this nightmare, and a man hung. These... people, sentenced a man to death to appease an evil spirit. Zelaria keeps her eyes cast down, and shakes her head when Zelldania speaks.
"Thank you, but I do not imbibe," she refuses, "and unless I am mistaken, it appears as though you and the gentleman would prefer not to be disturbed," she gestures to Demaiv with a nod, and then rises.
"I am called Zelaria," she introduces herself. She looks to the man called Rekkart. "Sir, are you well? Need you assistance to rise? I am, in fact, as slight as I appear, however, a lower center of gravity can be more readily relied upon as an appropriate fulcrum for distributing a great weight," she jests in an off key manner and smiles.
Dania smiles and nods in agreement at Demaiv's mention of drinks.
After Aesh's introduction, Dania shakes the offered hand and introduces herself. "I would be happy to call you Aesh and you can call me Dania, though my full name is Zelladania."
After Demaiv's last sentence, Dania smiles back at him as she remarks: "I find it a welcome coincidence that I too am heading to Sandpoint and would be glad to accompany you there. I've no desire to stay another night in this town, so a departure right after our drinks and perhaps a meal suits me just fine. I'd prefer a night out under the open sky to one in an inn here."
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"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Dania. Company is always welcome amongst our people, especially when travel is involved," Aesh smiles a charming smile as he turns to address Zelaria.
"Zelaria, we did as was necessary. We were merely pawns in the game of gods and men. That man Sveth did what a man does for the best of friends, and Desna smiles, we were able to help remove a bad seed from the system that is supposed to uphold the law. Laws in place to protect people. Though it pains me to say, we did the right thing." The Varisian man smiles to her warmly. He cannot help the though that creeps into his mind, The nightmares will come to me for years...
Aesh then turns toward Adanel and Rekkart.
"How about you two? Where might you be headed?"
Zelaria narrows her eyes and looks to the knight. "This man identified himself as a scion of the Inheritor, she who represents justice. I believe that his word would have been sufficient to ensure that the authorities might have handled this matter, and not otherwise private individuals drawn into a wraith's lust for vengeance," Zelaria replies.
She shakes her head sadly, and removes the scarf. "I am glad that the man and his family are at peace now, but I will not identify myself with this."
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"I suppose you are correct, but that man had enough sway to turn a judge to do his dirty work. I cannot claim to know the ways of the Restless, but I do know how it feels to be betrayed," Aesh takes a deep breath. "This," the Varisian gestures to the scarf, a warm smile on his face, "Is not only a gift, but a reminder that law or no law, we must make the right decisions for the good of others. Don't you think so?"
"Make decisions for the good of others?" Zelaria repeats incredulously. "Desna does not direct, she guides. None can decide the fate of another, they can only influence."
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"True, but we are not her. We make decisions, and every decision we make, affects someone else. However, people like Magistrate Wade and Judge Trabe decide the fate of another every day, it is their job. Now we can hope that the law will have justice as its true goal, but the nature of the people who serve always has the capacity to cloud things."
Aesh smiles, happy to have someone to engage in spirited debate.
"But my point is, we make decisions. If we make those decisions so that our actions benefit the people around us, then we have learned the lessons that I have gleaned from this experience. Right?"
"We are not Her, we are Her chosen people. We carry her spirit, her strength within our hearts. Law," she pauses and shakes her head. "Their way is not ours, and violence has never been."
Adanel had awoke to a very different scene than what he had earlier been left with. Quietly he would try to rub the aching feeling from his head as he kept his thoughts to himself.
This Sveth, for one so bent on seeing justice rightfully served, he used far too many drugs.
Finally, with a little less of the throbbing pain distracting him from his current predicament, Adanel's eyes would take in his surroundings, along with the people around him.
Silently he would listen as each seemed to take their turn introducing themselves after a man named Aeshuura's lead. However, when the man turned to regard him, he would just as quickly turn away to start up another conversation.
Without a word, Adanel would bare his tusks further as he gave a look of disgust.
Such discourtesy.
Pushing it off, but not forgetting the slight, he would go to check over his things.
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Rekkart shakes his head as he stands up and checks his pack.
"Indeed, the services of LAW have been served this day. You see..."
He reaches into his pack and draws out a set of papers.
"I'm a marshal in the Varisian lands. So, in a technical way, I had jurisdiction over this matter; Wade is actually no longer a Magistrate, only one in title, not actual legal power. And his lands are within my jurisdiction. So, it actually WAS my decision to make; but I felt it wrong to make it on my own. Thank you,"
He starts walking away.
"This night has been...enlightening. I shall take my leave of you now. Should you ever need assistance though, I shall aid you in whatever, legal, way I can,"
"Was." Demaiv corrects Rekkart. "Wade was no longer a Magistrate."
Demaiv waits a moment then goes to catch up with Rekkart, out of earshot of the rest of the companions. "I'd like to apologize for some of the things I said in the courthouse. You are an honourable man." and with that Demaiv will offer his hand.
"Well Zelaria, there you have it. Now, even if you don't drink, I'm sure you could do with some water and food." Demaiv looks around, noticing Adanel had been awfully quiet. "Adanel, if you're also going to Sandpoint, would you care to join us? A funny little caravan we make." Demaiv smiles as they gather the gear, in anticipation of some ale and a nice steak.
Demaiv finally notices the bottle of wine Sveth had left them. A moment spent examine the bottle shocks Demaiv. "This is a powerful piece of magic here. Not only is the bottle enchanted, but Sveth has given us a mighty powerful potion to go with it. One gulp of this stuff is enough to feed a full grown man for a day, and has some curative properties as well. Who would like to carry it?"
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Noticing that he has been distracted from his introduction to Adanel, Aesh steps up to the surly half-orc. Recalling their earlier exchange, he speaks carefully, "I apologize about that, it seems that I am easily distracted by a young lady or two... but it seems that you have been short, even back when we first met. Though, we were assailed by the Restless, I feel like there is more at work here."
"Yes Adanel, would you care to travel with us? The Festival at Sandpoint should be just the thing that we all need to lighten our moods after last night. Zelaria, Aesh? How about you two, would you like to travel with us too?"
Despite suddenly finding himself the focus of some attention, Adanel would finish looking over his equipment. Once done, he would firmly secure his bedroll in the small of his back and his quiver at his side before standing. Finally, with his sheathed great sword held firmly in one hand and his bow in the other, he would turn to address the group.
"I would be Adanel as Zelladania has stated and I will accept your apology. As for Sandpoint, I do find my path set in that direction, though for different reasons. As a ranger trainee, I will offer my services as my mentor has taught me to help were I can and surely numbers often bring a measure of safety."
Adanel was clearly not a handsome man or one with a very social personality, but it was clear he expected respect and would return it to those he deemed worthy of it.
Finally, seeing Sir Rekkart making his departure, Adanel would address the man one final time.
"I am glad to see this atrocity has reached the proper authorities and hope that a man of your stature will help clear that man's name with the public. Be well and may The Lady in the Room look upon you favorable."
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Aesh shoulders his own substantial blade, raising an eyebrow at the half-orc's greatsword. He flashes a broad smile and begins heading down the road out of Magnimar.
"Dem, sorry, wine bottle is not so much my style! I prefer mine from a jug," the big Varisian laughs heartily, stops and looks back to his new companions.
Zelaria brushes off the easy dismissal by the warrior of Iomedae, unconcerned with his whim. She leans down and reclaims her pack, stuffing the scarf into a pocket. Any watching sees that the scarf immediately rises again and is thrown some ten feet from the small girl without apparent cause. Sighing, the petite girl slings her pack onto her back and walks to the location where it landed, only to have it bounce in her face.
"It has been some time since I have been home," Zelaria remarks to Dania's suggestion, peeling the scarf back from her face, and tucking it into her belt pouch, which she quickly cinches closed, "and travel alone is rarely prudent," she seems to concede.
"Although I am most qualified to carry it, the bottle will not be safe with me," she adds to Aesh's off-color observation. She attempts a ghost of a smile, but fails terribly, and looks to Adanel. His expression easily matches my mood, she observes. "I have experience navigating by the stars, if you would accept my assistance," she offers hopefully.
Dania smiles over at Zelaria. "We would be glad to accept your assistance. I'm sure we'd hate to end up lost and then miss the Festival. As for the bottle, maybe Demaiv and Adanel can just toss a coin and to decide which of them should carry it?"
"Unless Adanel has a burning desire for the bottle, I will hold on to it for now. Wine isn't really my thing, but beggars can't be choosers." Demaiv intones after Aesh's song, a song that Demaiv vaguely remembered from his childhood but couldn't remember any of the lyrics, so he simply hummed the tune as Aesh sang.
Demaiv will keep quiet about his faith as the others discuss the Gods. Apsu was considered a "minor" god by most other mortals, and Demaiv had no particularly pressing desire to champion his deity with people who might not understand Apsu's significance. Despite his closed mouth, Demaiv wears his holy symbol proudly, and the same marking is on the haft of the spear he now carries, tip sheathed.
After Aesh's song is ended, Demaiv seems lost in thought as they travel into Magnimar proper and find an inn at which to sup.
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Aesh walks, seemingly without a care, as if the heavy thoughts of the previous night are washed away by the simple act of walking. A true Varisian, he seems to relish in the wonders of the road...
Sometimes he is singing an upbeat traveling song, sometimes engaging in small trivial conversation about dogs.
Sticking to the main roads and watching for signs, he makes sure that they are going the right way.
--
At camp, Aesh does what ever menial task is needed, be it gathering water at a nearby stream, collecting firewood, or helping with setting up a tent (or lean-to.)
He volunteers for the midnight watch, since he does not have any sleeping requirements that the spellcasters might.
After dinner, as the PCs let their food settle, Aesh hones and oils his weapons.