The creature mirrors Talib's retching when the inquisitor professes his judgement. Briefly weakened, its claws flail uselessly against the chainmail.
Mylok, introducing Talienda to a torrent of completely new curse words both awe-inspiring and disgusting, swiftly reloads his gun and fires once again. This time, his shot pierces the undead's skull and it falls to the ground, twitching.
"I-is it over," Talienda asks as the sounds of fighting grow silent.
Talib gingerly pokes the creature with his foot, gags, and the spends a moment leaning on his knees and groaning. After he finally regains his composure, he chops the creature's head off for good measure, though without his usual routine efficacy. The inquisitor appears uncharacteristically bashful as he goes through the dead monster's body and the weapons on the rack, without any comment as to his moment of perturbation.
There seems to be some sort of evil underlying the whole courthouse, Talib feels, like a background buzz that he attunes to when focussing, but no direct and immediate source that he can pinpoint anywhere. When he instead tries to sense magic, the heavy flail he saw earlier draws his attention immediately.
This grisly weapon, blood-stained and most likely unwashed since its last use many years ago, is a +1 heavy flail.
Before long, the group is interrupted by the sound of metal clashing against metal followed by yells and grunts, coming from the main hall.
"W-what's going on," Talienda says in a small, frightened voice.
With a bullet through an undead head ending THIS battle, Rissi had thought things would be 'quiet' for a little while. The sounds of apparent melee change those thoughts immediately. "Don't know, but it's this way...."
She moves toward the sounds, her little bow in hand with an arrow knocked.
As Talienda and Rissi approach the door, the voices become more distinct but little can be grasped from what they are saying:
"I'll show you, knave!" says one voice, likely coming from a human male in his fourties.
"Stop! Stop at once! Help!" says the other, also possibly a human male, but of much more advanced age.
More sound of metal clashing against metal, followed by a groan.
Talienda feared what lay on the other side of the door, but she could hardly ignore a plea for help. She takes in a deep breath and opens the door.
After a moment of concentration and prayer directed at the assorted weapons, Talib stows his falchion and grabs the flail, giving it a tentative swing.
"This," he says contentedly, "this I can use."
Talienda feared what lay on the other side of the door, but she could hardly ignore a plea for help. She takes in a deep breath and opens the door.
Talib follows, ready to spring into action.
Talienda and the others enter the main hall and see, as expected, two human males trading blows. The younger one has a long beard, dark hair and wears mostly fancy black and blue garments together with a top hat; the older man instead has thinning white hair, a monocle and is clad in austere brown clothes.
The older man is on the ground, his rapier a few feet away from his position, and using a flat wooden box as a makeshift shield. "Blessed be the gods! Please, help me!" he yells.
The other man turns towards the group. "I see your cowardice knows no bounds, Trabe! You hired mercenaries in case you couldn't finish me off on your own? Not one more step if you want the old man alive to pay your fee, thugs."
"Uncle Ally," Talienda asks, not believing her eyes. She steps forward, tears rimming her eyes as she tries to sort through the emotions raging in her heart. Relief, anger, disappointment, and grief all fight inside her.
"Wh-what's going on? Why are you attacking this man," she asks, hoping for an honest answer, but expecting a lie anyway.
Talib puts a hand on Talienda's shoulder, stopping her from getting too close to the combatants. Both of them are suspects, and it will not do to supply either of them with a hostage. The inquisitor lets go of the chain of his new flail, which had been wrapped up around his fingers, allowing the spiked ball hits the floor with a loud *thunk*.
"The Judge of the Gods demands order in His court," he growls. "and I am His bailiff. Cease all hostilities at once!"
Alastir's eyes go wide upon seeing Talienda. "Talienda…? What are you doing here? Did this rabble kidnap you?"
Before she can reply, Talib steps in and Alastir's astonishment turns into a worried expression. "Sir, I'll have you know that you are speaking to a magistrate with a long record of dutiful work to the crown. I would like you to identify yourself and explain exactly how you are entitled to such words, preceded by the threat of violence."
Trabe, still hiding behind the wooden box, moves a bit further away from Alastir. "Gods be blessed, a man of honour. This brute has attacked me the moment he saw me, good sir."
"It seems that Jarbin Mord couldn't take his vengeance on Father, so I am to take his place. These people are the only reason I am still alive," she says, the shock of seeing him for the first time in a year wearing off. Her eyes harden as she remembers something Malgrim had said, and his initials being on the note about the fire opals Patrissa now wears.
"So, Uncle Ally." her voice dripping with venom as she says the name she's always know him by, "Were you the one that put a bounty on my head?"
"Talienda, what sort of accusation is that? A bounty on your head? Why would I do that? What lies has this rabble been feeding you? That's why I always told you to keep away from the populace, dear." Contrary to Talienda's expectations, Alastir seems to be speaking in earnest (even if his arrogance now seems crude and unnecessary).
Talib is always impressed with the way some people lie as a reflex, without a moment's pause for consideration.
Rissi steps up beside Talienda. She considers stepping in front of the girl but is concerned that she might not be noticed and could trip her. "Sir. Those of us that were not on the original jury seem to have been summoned here to replace our family members that were. And summary judgement and execution is being carried out beyond the grave. If you were part and party to the 'justice' applied to Mr. Mord by the jury, my question would be, How did you avoid his wrath so as to summon Talienda here in your place?"
"Original jury? Mord? What sort of dredges of the past are you digging up?" He sighs and massages the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Talienda and I are not related -- I was but a close friend of her father, the late Diago Blackhorn and uncle in this case is…a term of endearment, if you will." He turns to Trabe who by now has managed to stand up. "Has this villain brought you here with some pitiful excuse of justice? I hate to disappoint your noble wishes, but you have been brought here because this pitiful old man is trying to blackmail me by threatening my reputation as an honourable magistrate."
He lowers his sword arm. "I was wrong in attacking him, perhaps, but I'm sure you can empathise with the pain of having one's career, painstakingly built with grit and cunning, menaced by an unscrupulous charlatan who values money above all other things."
The sorrow in Alastir's voice exudes sincere outrage.
"Sir, I'll have you know that you are speaking to a magistrate with a long record of dutiful work to the crown. I would like you to identify yourself and explain exactly how you are entitled to such words, preceded by the threat of violence."
"I am an inquisitor of Abadar," says Talib, touching the key-shaped pin on his lapel. "My purpose is to root out corruption wherever I find it—with threats and violence, if need be. As you certainly know, corruption in the courts is the greatest corruption of civilisation. Drastic measures are warranted."
"Talienda, what sort of accusation is that? A bounty on your head? Why would I do that? What lies has this rabble been feeding you? That's why I always told you to keep away from the populace, dear."
The inquisitor narrows his eyes, and his voice takes on a more forceful quality. "This would hardly be the first time you have employed a murderous criminal, would it? There is a certain hobgoblin that was spared many a sentence due to your interference..."
Without giving Alistir a chance to recover or respond, Talib continues his verbal lashing. "Tell me, magistrate, what is your exact connection to Jarbin Mord? Did you know his wife? How did her scarves end up in your office?"
Trabe, still hiding behind the wooden box, moves a bit further away from Alastir. "Gods be blessed, a man of honour. This brute has attacked me the moment he saw me, good sir."
Talib does not let Alistir out of his sight, but he throws a short glance at the covering Trabe. "Honour is meaningless without personal integrity—a primitive method of enforcing societal conformity. Are you here to blackmail Magistrate Wade, as he says? If not, why have you come?"
Alastir brushes some dirt from his shoulder. "To reply to your most relevant question, I knew Mord in passing, as I used to work in this courthouse, together with Mr. Trabe, before…the disaster -- I assume you are aware Mord was the executioner of this house. For the same reason I was acquainted with his wife, but you must forgive me when I say people of my position had little reason to speak to the help or their families." He looks up, as if trying to recall something. "As for these scarves you claim to be hers, I am assuming you are speaking about my old offices here in the courthouse, which I haven't visited in ten years and were in any case shared with other magistrates at the time. I cannot be reasonably expected to know much about whatever objects you have found whilst rummaging through this abandoned place."
Trabe, who had been recovering from the previous confrontation, is taken slightly aback by Talib's comments and stutters for a few moments before responding. "That…that is most completely not true, inquisitor. If anything, it was the opposite! I received an ill-intentioned letter from Mr. Wade, riddled with threats and asking for a thousand gold pieces or he would sully my name! I came hoping to talk some sense into him, but was instead greeted by abhorrent violence!"
Once again, both men seem resolute and utterly convinced of what they are saying.
Trabe seems to be thinking very hard about his choice of words.
Talienda shakes her head as if she were trying to shake the words she is hearing out of her skull.
"No. No! I know what I saw! I know what I heard! I was in the garden painting then I woke up here after a nightmare where I was hung. I saw your name on that receipt for fire opals like what that old woman, Patrissa, was wearing. I know that I saw people die tonight. I know Malgrim said that there was a bounty for whoever could kill me. I didn't imagine those things. Please don't lie to me, Uncle Ally," she says as she slips from Talibs grip and walks up to the magistrate.
"Please, Uncle Ally, tell me what have you and my father done? Why does Jarbin Mord's ghost harbor so much hate?"
Alastir brushes some dirt from his shoulder. "To reply to your most relevant question, I knew Mord in passing, as I used to work in this courthouse, together with Mr. Trabe, before…the disaster -- I assume you are aware Mord was the executioner of this house. For the same reason I was acquainted with his wife, but you must forgive me when I say people of my position had little reason to speak to the help or their families." He looks up, as if trying to recall something. "As for these scarves you claim to be hers, I am assuming you are speaking about my old offices here in the courthouse, which I haven't visited in ten years and were in any case shared with other magistrates at the time. I cannot be reasonably expected to know much about whatever objects you have found whilst rummaging through this abandoned place."
Talib allows himself a short, dry smile. "'Most relevant,' by which you mean 'most covenient.' You lie well, but omit too much."
Without missing a beat, he continues the interrogation—for this is most assuredly an interrogation, whether all the participants realise it or not. "And what of Malgrim? You did save him a considerable amount of prison time. As it happens, Malgrim was a juror in Mord's trial. He was threatening another member of the jury, Halgrak, to vote guilty. He also murdered a judge named Rayndros Felgor, who was in the process of reporting a certain mistrial..."
The inquistor leans his head to one side, as if to look at the magistrate from another angle. He takes a few steps forward, mostly to keep up with Talienda, but he does not bother to make himself seem less threatening. The flail scrapes against the wall as he walks. "You would not happen to know anything about Halgrak's gambling debts, would you? I would ask Miss Blackhorn's father, but unfortunately he is not available."
Trabe, who had been recovering from the previous confrontation, is taken slightly aback by Talib's comments and stutters for a few moments before responding. "That…that is most completely not true, inquisitor. If anything, it was the opposite! I received an ill-intentioned letter from Mr. Wade, riddled with threats and asking for a thousand gold pieces or he would sully my name! I came hoping to talk some sense into him, but was instead greeted by abhorrent violence!"
Seeing an opening, Talib continues to pry. "How, exactly, would Magistrate Wade have 'sullied' your name? Does this have anything to do with the fact that Jarbin Mord was wrongfully accused? Or that someone, for some reason, went to great lengths to ensure a guilty verdict?"
The inquistor glowers at the old man with an expression of grim finality, an authoritarian surety which he had seen on Trabe's own face in his visions. "You sentence an innocent man to die, Judge Trabe. Did you do so at the behest of Magistrate Wade? Think well on your next words. The Gold-Fisted sees your guilt, even if mortal men do not."
"Patrissa? Is she here as well? Oh, gods…" Wade shakes his head in dismay. "Dear Talienda, your father and I have done many things together and had only the best of interests in mind, I assure you. And Jarbin Mord was a hateful man, sick and twisted…some people are like that, due to no fault of their own or anyone else. Rest assured, I haven't seen this ghost you speak of, but I'm sure he is as weak in death as he was in life."
His words are precise; his delivery is, as before, clear; and his smile to Talienda is perfectly warm and affectionate, even if slightly marred by the painful mention of Halgrak's name.
"Judging by your methods, I am sure you can understand that sometimes associating with criminals is necessary for men of law to fulfil their duties," Alastir replies to Talib's querying. "I trust all present not to mention this outside these walls lest they risk the hobglobin's life, but Malgrim is an informant and has been so for a long time in exchange for some leniency as to his own wrong-doing. And I have no idea who this Halgrak person is. I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, inquisitor."
Trabe takes a few steps back and pats his bald forehead with a silk handkerchief. "Sir, Inquisitor, you must understand…there were certain…procedural failures in Mord's trial, yes…? one would not want these to become public…" Talib's next words hit him like a hammer; his eyes flit between Wade and the inquisitor. "Failures that were connected to external pressure…but I'm unsure if…sentencing the innocent is the term I would choose. You see…" he trails off, mumbling.
"Judging by your methods, I am sure you can understand that sometimes associating with criminals is necessary for men of law to fulfil their duties," Alastir replies to Talib's querying.
"Criminals—yes," Talib says coolly. "People actively undermining the justice system through extortion and murder—no."
"And I have no idea who this Halgrak person is. I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, inquisitor."
The inquisitor glances over his shoulder, as if he had heard something, but quickly forces himself back into focus. "Certainly. He is known as Halgrak Five-Toes, owing to Malgrim's handiwork. A half-orc with a gambling problem, who had managed to accrue a considerable debt at an establishment known as the Lucky Harpy. To be exact, a few thousand gold measures, owed to yourself and the late Mister Blackhorn. The gambling house was his, I assume. I have the documentation to prove your involvement—and the receipt mentioned by Miss Blackhorn—all found in your office, along with the scarves."
Trabe takes a few steps back and pats his bald forehead with a silk handkerchief. "Sir, Inquisitor, you must understand…there were certain…procedural failures in Mord's trial, yes…? one would not want these to become public…" Talib's next words hit him like a hammer; his eyes flit between Wade and the inquisitor. "Failures that were connected to external pressure…but I'm unsure if…sentencing the innocent is the term I would choose. You see…" he trails off, mumbling.
Talib's next words are measured and slow like a funeral march. "Mord's vengeful ghost haunts these halls, and we are trapped in here with him. Several of the jurors have already been killed—gruesomely so, I might add. Unless we provide Mord with the real culprit, all of us will die this night."
"If you will not bear witness to save your soul, at least speak to save your miserable life."
Talienda glares at Alistair Wade as she steps back from Talib. Anger and fear roil inside her, but it is the hurt, the knowledge that the two men she most looked up to had engaged in heinous crimes that bring the tears welling up.
"Halgrak told me that Malgrim threatened to torture his children, Uncle Ally. Do you honestly think that... that monster cared for anyone but himself? Do you? Do you care at all for anyone? For me? Why haven't I seen you in a year? Why do so many things point to you being the one behind this or one of the ones? Do you even care that I almost died tonight?!" She stands there, her chest heaving with each breath as she clenches her jaw and breaths heavily through her nose. Tears stream down her face before she turns away and walks back to Rissi and Sine, sniffling as she leaves Talib to carry on the interrogation.
"Talienda, I do not know what sort of insanity you have been exposed to here, but your comments are extremely hurtful and not in line with the education you have received. I assure you, I do care about you and there are perfectly reasonable explanations to your doubts, which I'll be glad to assuage in private, but I must first deal with this man," Alastir says, gesturing at Talib and turning to face him.
"Young women, always so impressionable and passionate, no? To think she used to sit on my lap and draw on her little colouring book but a few years ago! In any case, I do remember Halgrak now, though I had little contact with him. I did help the late Diago with running the Harpy in the past and I vaguely recall Halgrak's case, common as it was: as you said, it was a great amount of money. Diago pitied the fool and let him off the hook far too easily by smithing some low-quality items…as for what Talienda claims Malgrim did to him, I don't know. Both were low-lifes and you know how the rabble loves to bicker."
Both magistrates turn silent at Talib's final plea, perhaps finally realising the gravity of the situation. Trabe shakes his head, defeated. "You are right, inquisitor. There was little evidence to condemn Mord for the murder of his wife. I received a very generous sum to make sure that he paid for those crimes anyway, but they threatened me…and…and my family! They–"
The light suddenly goes out for a few seconds.
When it comes back, the whole room is filled with innumerable nooses hanging from the ceiling. On the northern side of the room, between the two set of stairs and far above ground, hover the immaterial presences of Jarbin Mord and his wife, Malene Mord.
Trabe squeals in panic and frantically tries to leave the courthouse, but, surprising no one, the doors refuse to budge. Alastir seems truly scared for the first time and runs eastward.
The apparitions do not move and simply watch the scene below them.
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Rissi just listens to the back and forth between Talib and Talienda, Alastir and Trabe. She can barely keep up, but then has to squeak out "Weak in death? Are you really that stupid!?! Or have you just ignored everything you've heard. People here have already died! Once Mord realizes that you are here, the chief conspirator of his unjust death! You will find out exactly what weakness is, and you'll be looking at your own dead body as your spirit leaves it."
"We're trying to save lives here. But if you refuse to even try, your life cannot be saved!"
When Alastir starts to run Rissi calls on her magic, singing out words to a spell that seems very appropriate to her....
Talienda opens her mouth to demand who "they" were, but then everything goes black. When the light returns to reveal the disturbing scene, the words die in her throat. Her hands go up to her neck and her eyes go up to the nooses hanging from the ceiling. She mutters a prayer to Shelyn as she remembers the sickening crunch and painful snap of being hanged over and over again.
Alastir barely reaches the door to the courtroom before he slips on the grease and falls to the ground. "Damnation!"
Trabe instead turns to Talib and kneels. "Save me, oh, powerful inquisitor! It was Alastir! He murdered the woman because she would not have him on her bed! And Blackhorn paid for the cover-up! Please, save me!"
Talib is just as taken aback by the sudden phantasmagoria as everyone else, but even as his mind reels, his well-honed reflexes push him into motion. He barely acknowledges Trabe's pleas, but he is quick to act on the judge's testimony. He dashes after Alistir, dodging his way through the nooses, and skids to a halt next to the fallen magistrate. With a firm, two-handed grip on the handle, the inquisitor attempts to crack his quarry over the head with the long, wooden haft. "There is nowhere to hide, Wade. This is what your crimes have wrought!"
I did not expect that last action =D
Just as he finished carefully standing up in the greasy floor, Alastir is caught completely off-guard by Talib's blow and almost slips again. "You…you knave! Coward! Talienda, is this the company you keep? A brute who would attack someone defenseless?! You are no man of justice, you're simply a self-righteous thug!"
Alastir, rapier in hand, stabs Talib on the stomach with brutal skill. His armour absorbs some of the damage, but the blow is still severe.
Talienda snarls. the insults to Talib awakening something within her and snapping her from the terror she feels.
She doesn't know what she will do. She isn't even thinking clearly, but she grabs a knife from Mylock's belt and marches towards Alistir. She can't sit by while Talib bleeds yet again.
"Great time to fight amongst ourselves.... With an angry ghost watching!"
Rissi grumbles a bit to herself, then calls out a battle chant to help those fighting.
Talib grunts as he is stabbed, but he does not waste more words on the magistrate. The inquisitor swings his new flail, this time using the weapon as it was intended to be used.
Talib's attack, although competent, is easily dodged by Alastir. "A brute is always a brute. You have as much finesse as a stubborn pack animal." His dodge naturally flows into another stab, this time on the inquisitor's thigh.
Talienda's comment -- particularly the part about rapists -- seems to fluster him for a moment. "Talienda, do not raise your voice to me and do not make assumptions about things you do not know or understand! I shall deal with you once I'm through with this riffraff!"
Those who spend a second or two looking behind their backs see the undead couple watching the scene intently. They still refuse to move, as if awaiting something.
Trabe, meanwhile, is curled up against the door, reciting a creative mix of what are likely to be all the prayers he knows.
"How do you plan on dealing with me after killing a Banker of Abadar, Mr. Wade," she asks, her voice scathing as she closes the gap. "Will you buy me off with jewels as you did with Patrissa? Will you send a psychopath after my family like you did with Halgrak? Will just kill me like you did with my father?"
The inquisitor continues to ignore the jeers, focusing on what is happening instead of what is being said. Alistir is a proficient duellist, certainly, but clearly overconfident in his ability. Talib leans on his unwounded leg—so as not to have the other crumple under him—and carries his swing on for a full rotation, building up speed and momentum for the second attack.
Talib's second attack hits Alastir on his stomach and the impact almost knocks him out of his feet. With the look of a cornered animal, he takes a step back, takes a vial from his belt and drinks it.
"You are a strong brute, I'll give you that, but surrender now before I really hurt you, so-called inquisitor."
As Alastir steps away, Rissi quickly fires an arrow at the man.
Talienda, seeing that Alastir is no longer answering her moves to flank the man with Talib and lashes out with her dagger.
Talib circles Alistir opposite to Talienda, giving his flail a few overhead swings before bringing it down on the magistrate. Severely bloodied and quite aware of the fact, the inquisitor tries to bring the scuffle to a decisive close.
Talib's next attack once again almost brings Alastir to unconsciousness, but man is too stubborn to come down. Desperate and losing his temper, he fumbles his attack and snaps at Talienda while moving away from the young woman. "Stop harassing me, you little c+@*! Go cower in a corner like you were taught!" Just as he finishes cursing, Rissi's arrow snaps against the pillar next to him.
Talienda ignores Alistir and doggedly follows the man, trying to keep him between her and Talib.
Keeping Alistir in between himself and Talienda, Talib continues to fight for his life—and justice.
Seeing Talienda still following him and trying to get in his way, Alastir hits her with the back of his hand in the same way one would try to wave an annoying fly away. This gesture proves to be his undoing: if he hadn't been so distracted, Talib's attack would have been easy to dodge. As it stands, the spiked ball hits Alastir on the head and he crumples to the ground, bleeding profusely.
Talienda falls with a cry of pain as the backhanded blow spins her about. The dagger clatters across the stone as she tumbles to the ground clutching at her bruised cheek and spits out blood from where her teeth had cut the inside of her mouth. She staggers back to her feet, looking a little dazed.
"I-ish he..." she slurs through lips starting to grow puffy.
"I-ish he..." she slurs through lips starting to grow puffy.
"Not if I can help it," Talib grumbles.
He proceeds to tear a strip of fabric off Alistir's clothing, and uses that to bind his wounds. Probably not much help against a concussion, but enough to stop the bleeding.
After he is done, the inquisitor turns to regard the looming apparitions of Mord and his wife. There is no fear in his voice as he addresses them, though more due to weariness than bravery.
"Here is your malefactor," he says and points to the fallen magistrate. "Now what?"
Rissi puts her little bow aside, annoyed at her miss, and watches as the bug man bandages the traitor. Would they need to tie him up and somehow drag him to justice? Then he turns to the ghosts and makes his statement....
She takes a moment to clear the fear from her throat and adds, "We've tried to help out here. Is there anything else you desire? Any way we can help?"
The spectres that once were Mord and his wife slowly move towards Talib and Talienda. The scene is completely silent now that the sounds of battle died down and Trabe has either passed out or simply given up on his prayers.
They reach Alastir's unconscious body just as Talib had finished ministering whatever little care he could give to the man given the conditions and the approaching menace. Malena Mord's jaws distend in a hideous manner, growing twice their regular size and she is about to pounce on Alastir when her husband's ghostly hand stops her. Without uttering any words, he looks at Rissi, Talienda and Talib with bloodshot red eyes -- filled with sorrow and still so human after a decade of undeath -- extends his hand above his head to grab one of the nooses that had materialised in the room and widens it. Then, he proffers the rope to the three and waits.
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Rissi steps forward, reaching for the rope. She glances at the young sorceress and quietly speaks, "Talienda, you should turn away. This might be justice, but it won't be nice. I'll take it and place it. I think I understand."
If granted she places the noose carefully around Alastir's neck. "Is this what you need? I don't know that any court in this city would agree, but...." She steps back and reaches for the tambourine hanging on her belt. Tapping it quietly and releasing the chimes from the cloth wound through it she starts singing a song of justice....