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The Autumn Court - Chapter One: Bloodheir

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OOC: Makes sense.
A little bit of lore, then:

Jen Myrdes is one of Urnung's 'Thirteen Revered', thirteen great people who allegedly performed feats of incredible heroism. Jen Myrdes is also known as 'Jen of the Ten Thousand Lives', referring the number of people he supposedly aided back to health.

There is some dispute, which even in current times divides scholars, regarding the legends of his 'Grand Vengeance'. These stories tell of how he would secretly seek out and inflict grevious wounds upon or outright kill the people whom he deemed ultimately responsible for the wounds he mended. While primarily warlords and generals, those pulling the strings of war, some of the victims of his vengeance were commonfolk that he found particularly despicable.
In these particular stories the wolf spirit is sometimes despicted as a spirit of hate which Jen has to constantly keep in check, and which in spite of guiding him from place to place ultimately is more of a hindrance than a boon.


IC:
Jonas smiles apologetically.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't read it myself. My nephew merely needed help with interpreting a crycon word."
 
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"I did."
For a moment Jonas is silent, and looks like he's playing with the idea of saying nothing more. In the end, however, he decides against it.
"Although the crycon talk in grainspeak like the rest of us their version of it differs slightly in multiple places. One of these diffirences is a multitude of words which carry a special meaning, often something oddly specific, and-"
"Get to the point." Rhyme interrupts, sounding somewhat annoyed.
Jonas smiles, apparently quite amused by this.
"The word which Avithyr needed my assistance with was one such word; 'blodarjvin'.
Directly translated to common terms it means 'bloodheir', referring to someone who has inherited something unique from their forebearers."
Syhr's silhouette stiffens upon hearing this, then nods slowly.
"That makes sense. Jen was a 'blodarjvin', it was the source of his healing prowess."
 
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"Whilst I can't help but think the two might be connected, I very much doubt that it is quite so simple ... Honestly, what you're suggesting there would imply madness of the highest order, insanity of the kind one could not help but to notice.
Whilst he most certainly does harbour something of a temper, and his guilt for this crime still remains on trial, I do think it is safe to say that Avithyr's brain did not appear to be dripping out through his nose..." Teyia replied dryly.

"No. I do not think such an assumption will get us very far, some other - far more intelligible - explanation is needed here."
 
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Jonas listenes in silence as Arilia and Teyia speak. He shakes his head as they finish, a look of faint disappointment on his face.
"Who is this man who makes accusations and assumptions without being able to prove anything, and why is he here?"
 
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Rhyme shifts in her seat, letting out a long sigh.
"Alright, time out. Please remove Jonas from our pressence, we need to have a litle talk amongst ourselves."
A spiral of smoke envelops Jonas, and when it is gone the room's centre is empty.
Rhyme's silhouette faces Arilia. Where she was relaxed and leant back before she now seems tense, perhaps somewhat annoyed.
"Okay kid, you still haven't told us your name so I'm going to refer to you as 'Moron'."
She takes a deep breath.
"You're a moron, Moron. You seem to spit out any random theory or conclusion whch passes through your mind, and you are actively antagonizing the people we need information from. You've completely shattered any illusion which they might have that we're a unified group, and made us all come off as incompetent fools.
You're not helping. You're a detriment."
A heavy silence falls upon the room as Rhyme finishes speaking. The only sound which can be heard is the quiet blowing of the wind.
 
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"No, Rhyme. All we know are what Avythir did, the book he read, the theory about the blodarjvin and the fact that any duke or heir in his right mind would not go out to slaughter his own civilians."

"We also know that you are dismissing several plausible motives for Avythir to commit this crime, so you are deliberately covering up something. You have also interrupted Avythir when he was answering a question."

"Perhaps miss-business-in-knowing-things can spill whatever she knows to us? You seem to have a lot of information on this particular case, and by not spilling it, you are actively helping Jonas and/or Avythir Tolk."

OOC: Are you trying to push the story in a certain direction?
 
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"There you go again, speaking of mere theories as if they are facts! Everything you say is based on the idea that Avithyr did commit the crime, which is what we're trying to determine!
All we know is that someone killed three hundred people in the course of one night, that the killer wielded two blades, that eye-witnesses spotted someone of Avithyr's likeness running through the streets, that his two siblings claim that they found him covered in blood in his bed the morning after.
And this, this ridiculus story, you would accept for truth without questioning any of it? You've lapped up every bit of the story presented before you like a good little hungry pig, never once questioning the obvious faults in this absurd tale.
Why would a blood-covered murderer just return hom and collapse in his bed without as much as changing his clothes?
How does a young nobleman slay three hundred people entirely on his own, in the course of a single night? You really think nobody, not one among three hundred, would have had time to react and stuck a blade between his ribs?
Here's some information for you; for every seven ordinary folks there's one more or less competent mage living in Silithiren. You really think nobody would have lobbed a ball of flame at him, impaled him on a spike of rock or collapsed his skull with a blast of destructive force?
We haven't even listened to all the witnesses yet, and in spite of this you're already declaring that he's guilty and that I'm covering stuff up? Please, somebody give this man a medal!"
Rhyme's silhouette moves about aggressively as she speaks. Its would not take a very big stretch of the imagination to imane her looking rather agitated at that moment.

OOC:
Of course not.
 
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Magnus, with a heavy sigh exclaims "Alright, that's enough, ye two. If I wanted to come to a hearing where people argue and yell like bloody bab-cocks, I would've stayed back in the Dwarven Lands! We have to come to a correct way of doing things here! We aren't competing against each other, we're all collectively judging an innocent or guilty fellow. You, the speculating fella', one advice, quit speculating. We're not here to write fictional whatnots, we are here, to determine who slaughtered those three-hundred people, and if Avythir is guilty or not, and the only thing your asinine theories confirm, is that you are most probably drunk, or simply insane."

Magnus grunts multiple times and his silhouette shuffles around in his seat, seeming quite frustrated.

"Listen ye inane cretin, accusing a fellow judge of covering up this story, and that without any worthwhile evidence, is complete buffoonery. Instead of helping us move forward, your theories and your ideas of making them speak the truth, is moving us backwards. I'd kindly request you, to keep yer mouth shut until you find something actually plausible. Am I clear on that, or will you claim that I am hiding something on this investigation aswell? Hmmm?

Anyways, enough o' that. Drem, Rhyme, and anyone else who can put up a legitimate reasoning behind this, please speak yer mind, I wish to know what you think of it."
 
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There is silence for a moment, then Syhr speaks.
"I reckon we need to gater as much information as we can before we can begin making any knd of actual judgement. We should speak to all involved that we have not spoken to yet, and perhaps we may need to further question those we have aready questioned.
I also reckon that, for the purposes of this, we ought to stick to asking questions. No accusations, no theories and no conclusions. At least not while they can hear us.
The last thing we want is for them to know what we're thinking."
He sounds slightly different from before. Its subtle, but his voice has hardened a little bit. His silhouette faces Magnus, and nods in acknowledgement.
"Thank you for that, Magnus."
Rhyme says nothing, but she seems to have calmed down.
 
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Drem closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Soon, he let out a breath of relief seeing as how things have started to calm down.
"I think this little, interruption, has already come to pass. We should return to what we were previously doing and like Syhr had said, just focus on questioning."
 
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OOC: Okay, new rule; No post editing which completely changes your character's actions.
I'd had a full post written up but it looks like that one's going into the trashbin. Sorta' miffed about this, I'll admit.
I'll make my response tomorrow, too tired now. If any players have any kind of action they want their characters to take then don't let this deter you, though.
 
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Magnus mutters to himself "By Svencsar's beard am I in need of a pint!"

OOC:Ehhm, not sure if that action, and the Bloodletting Blade and the Bloodthirsty God was spoken about with DM beforehand, so I'll wait for approval, before any further actions...
 
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OOC: Okay, new rule; No post editing which completely changes your character's actions.
I'd had a full post written up but it looks like that one's going into the trashbin. Sorta' miffed about this, I'll admit.
I'll make my response tomorrow, too tired now. If any players have any kind of action they want their characters to take then don't let this deter you, though.

OOC: Should I revert it?
 
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OOC: Uh, huh...
Sorry but that's a no-go. :/
So, let me just clarify something: I've written the underlying plot to this scenario in advance. Not in the sense that you're being put on a rail and driven down a predetermined storyline, but in the sense that all of the information which is being revealed to you as well as what actually did happen and which you are trying to uncover has already been written and is (so to speak) set in stone.
Making stuff up as you go along is NOT okay. There is no Bloodletting Sword, and this setting also doesn't have anything as redundant as a blood god.

So, yeah, anything after Gunslinger's last post is going to have to be redacted. You don't have to edit previous posts, just delete them or make a note that they're not cannon and then make a new one after this.
Sorry for the inconvenience, I know some of this differs from the usual online roleplays and can thus be a bit confusing.
 
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OOC: I see. You should make a list of things that are in this RP (Fireballs and rock manipulation) and those that are not. A brief description of the areas in the map and some history would help too. It wouldn't make sense for us to not know all these, since our characters are not foreigners. Even if you don't put a detailed world map, giving players detailed information about places where their character been would help too.

For example, Magnus will know everything about his hamlet, quite a lot about the surrounding towns (ruler relations) and a few extra bits of Dwarven lore.

Drem could know everything about most literature and his town, but not much else.

Teyia could know about the usual trade routes and a bit about the towns.

Arilia could know a bit about hidden locations and a bit about the general locations of towns and some castle layouts.

I am starting to think that the whole lore charade does not matter at all, since it (as far as I can tell) does not affect gameplay at all.

IC:

"I say we bring in the witnesses, question them on the man with two swords and see if their description matches Avythir. They may be mistaken."
 
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OOC:
I would absolutely love to provide all such information to the players, but that would require a tremendous amount of effort from me which I have neither the time nor the energy for.
Instead I go with a format wherein players will ask for any special information they need, and wherein I will occasionally provide lore exposition to slowly build up the players' understanding of the world.
I'll admit that this is not a system without flaws, far from it really, but in general this works just fine unless players decide to make stuff up without any kind of correspondence with the DM.

If this is a problem to you then you are free to leave.
Should you wish to do this, then do not worry about the impact this will have on the game for the rest of us. In the event of a player leaving I'll either take over their character, contact a site mod to have their posts removed and then re-write any sections their character was part of or write up a few reasons as for why their character is no longer around.

Oh and a note to all of us: should anyone have any comments like this in the future, could you please post them in the main hub thread for the roleplay? I would really prefer if we didn't bog down the live thread with all of these OOC discussions. Aint where they're supposed to be.


IC:
Syhr's silhouette nods in agreement.
"Although I would have preferred to question Jonas a bit further, I suppose we can do that later. Having the accounts of those who supposedly witnessed the crime first-hand would be a good basis for our judgement."
After a moment Rhyme's silhouette nods as well, albeit reluctantly.
 
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An awkward silence fills the room.
After a while Syhr's silhouette nods
"Yes, please bring in the people who originally witnessed Avithyr's supposed crime."
Nothing happens for a full thirty seconds, then a robed figure enters the chamber's midst. This one's robe is a dark shade of yellow, and its face is completely shrouded in shadows. "Esteemed judges, I do truly apologize for the inconvenience but in our efforts to locate the eyetwitnesses we have become aware that they are all dead."
The robed figure speaks with a man's voice. He sounds somewhat distressed.
"Four hanged themselves, and as for the remaining three one died in her sleep, one bit off his own tongue - then bled to death - and one repeatedly slammed his head into a wall until his skull shattered. We have multiple witnesses to that last one, as far-fetched as it sounds.
I wish I could have informed you earlier, but we are still investigating at this very moment."
 
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Teyia shifted in her seat as a cold silence washed over those assembled in the amphitheatre.
It doesn't take the best of us to deduce that this bodes ill for Avithyr, but what can we do? Whilst he cannot be proven guilty, nor can he be proven innocent.

"This seems far too well timed, and whilst it might delay our conclusion, it doesn't exactly help Avithyr and his case - there has to be something else at play here.
We cannot possibly draw a decent conclusion from the information we have and I refuse to condemn a man on an educated guess - or is there something more to this tale?"

She couldn't help shake the feeling that blindingly trusting the court would be an even more foolish move than blindingly trusting the defendant - had they been given but only one piece of a growing puzzle?
 
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The robed man shook his head at Teyia's question.
"We have nothing more to tell you at present. We will inform you if anything comes up during our continued investigation."
He then faces Arilia and shakes his head again.
"I'm afraid we don't currently have them in our possession. We will correct this as soon as is possible to us."



OOC:
Although I admit I have no idea why this popped up now of all times, as I can't see anyone in recent posts using the word nor widespread use of it in general, I agree that's a valid point.
However, this is not our world. Words could easily have different or additional meanings, be used in other ways or have other origins altogether. The word refers to someone who is at court, and the distinction between a royal court and a court of law regarding the use of this word may not be an established thing. And, since you asked, I shall now inform you that it is not an established thing.

Also, two things:
A: This is the kind of stuff which should go in the OOC thread.

B: This is nitpicking. Like, really not very important or impactful in any way. If it bothers you, contact me in a PM instead of bothering the other players with it here.
 
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Teyia frowned, obviously unimpressed.
No witnesses, no evidence - just one word or another - with nothing to give any one of them any sort of credibility.
Just what kind of court was this? How did they expect them to proceed?
Teyia looked around, trying to make out the rest of the assembly through the mist - were they all thinking the same?
After a small pause for thought, she returned her gaze to the robed figure - and held it there.
 
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The robed man seems to feel Teyia's gaze. He turns around and stares back at her, saying not a word.
A gust of wind danced through the room, lifting his hood from his face for a split second. For that split second Teyia saw the man's eyes.
Pain. Sharp, searing pain shot through her head. She shrieks involuntarily, confused and- then it is gone.
The man smiles.
"I get the impression that perhaps the judges could use a small break. You've been going at it for quite a while now, so why don't you retire to the Cindethyre Lounge and have something nice to eat and drink?
I'm certain you have plenty to discuss."
Rhyme leans forward in her seat.
"Wait, does that mean I finally get to see how ugly these people are?
Because if so then yes, please."
The hooded man grins, then nods.
 
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Drem was utterly shocked at the news. He couldn't believe that the witnesses had died in a single night. This all seamed so surreal to him.
"Why did they do it?" He thought.
"What had truly happened the night of the massacre?" He questioned.
"What did they think was worse than living?" He asked.
All these questions flooded his mind. Doubts, uncertainty, the unknown plagued his head. He slightly opens his mouth as if to say something but no words came out. He just sat there, mouth ajar, lost in a train of thought.

Soon the hooded man spoke of retiring from this tangle of questions. Drem snapped back into the real world.
"Yes. I could use breather after this, chain of events." Drem spoke as he slowly rose from his seat.
 
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Syhr grunts.
"I feel like this is somewhat abrupt, but I suppose I could use some food. Perhaps it'd make a select few of us a bit less irrational to get something in their stomachs."
Although the fog made it impossible to see, everyone in the room could have sworn that Rhyme was glaring daggers at Syhr.
The robed man grins.
"Very well, I will make sure everything is as you need it to be. May your eyes remain open!"
With that he vanishes, the fog in the room thickening to the point where it becomes impossible to see through it.
Soon each of them felt the pressence of someone else beside them. A quiet voice whispers 'follow', and a gentle hand softly pushes everyone from their seat.
One by one the judges are guided from the room, walking blindly across what feels like a roots and grass. Soon the fog begins to fade, and is replaced by a brightly lit wood-walled corridor.
As the judges regain their ability to see they each realize that they are all walking in a large group of robed servants, like the ones which brought them to the warmwind halls earlier. The crowd of servants block their view, making it impossible for the judges to see each other, and any attempts at stopping or looking back are gently but sternly prevented by their guides.
Then, for the very first time, the judges see the entrance to the Cindethyre Lounge.
It is a large door, although not nearly as large as the gate leading into the Warmwind Halls. Unlike the rest of the building it is made of a red woodsort, and it looks oddly... sturdy.
Intricate and delicate carvings adorn its frame, as well as the walls around it. They depict great winged beasts and hooded warriors, locked in a great battle. Upon closer inspection, however, it becomes clear that it is not a simple two-sided battle; everyone is fighting everyone.
The door itself is not as decorative, but no less impressive. Reinforced with iron, steel and runic wards, this door looks like it could withstand the assault of a host of dragons.
As the judges get closer it opens, completely without sound, and the scent of honeyed wine greets them.
One by one they enter the Cindethyre Lounge. The first thing they see is the roots.
The entire room is composed of roots. The walls, the floor, all of it is roots, but they have not grown in the wild and chaotic manner which was nature's way.
The roots form delicate lines, alcoves, staircases, platforms, walkways, bridges...
The second thing the judges see is the ceiling.
As they quickly come to realize, the Cindethyre Lounge is huge.
Upwards and upwards the staircases go, leading from floor to floor, from platform to platform and from alcove to alcove.
From high, high above light shines and water flows, waterfalls and tiny rivers dancing among the roots as they ascend into great ponds below.
The third thing they see is the decor.
Grand, illustrious tapestries adorn the walls, fur-lined carpets of red, gold and orange lie on the floor, huge wooden statues loom overhead wherever the eye turns and round tables surrounded by leather-embellished wooden armchairs are scatted around the place. It puts a nobleman's grand hall to shame both in scope and in beauty.
Robed people sit by the tables and walk the pathways overhead, some few even lying down by the waterfalls and ponds.
Then they hear the music.
From somewhere behind it all, music plays. Quiet, peaceful music with a touch of faint sadness. A harp? A violin? Some sort of flute? Whoever is playing are playing well, and have obviously practiced for many years.
As the judges take in their surroundings they are guided to a table, standing in a quiet corner. A great wooden statue of a fox looms over them as they take their seats. On the table stands all kinds of food and drink; a multitude of roasted meats, boiled vegetables - many of which none of the judges know of - and exotic salads, bowls of thick soup, wine, ale, honeyed wine, honeyed ale, what appeared to be fruit juice, a plethora of sauces oh so much more.
Then they see each other.
Syhr is large, even for a herder. He is well built, and with the addition of the bone plates native to his people he looks like a small giant. His face is round, and seems to be permanently stuck in a stern expression. He is clad in a shirt of blue velvet, adorned by grey fur, and a pair of dark-brown trousers. A heavy-looking iron pendant hangs around his neck, and his eyes are of the same colour as his short - and surprisingly messy - clay-brown hair.
As is no big surprise, Rhyme is a rather beautiful woman. Her body is almost an hourglass figure, her facial features are sharp and defined and her long, dark hair hangs down the sides of her face like strands of silk.
She wears a long grey dress without arms, and underneath it... plate mail?
Both of her shoulders are hidden behind metal pauldrons, and her arms are covered entirely in steel. Below it all she sports a leather hauberk, keeping the pieces of armor together. It seems, however, that none of it weighs her down in the slightest or makes any kind of sound when she moves.
She leans back in her seat and lets her eyes wander across her fellow judges. A half-smile find its way to her lips and she nods approvingly.
"Alright, I'll admit... I've seen uglier."



OOC:
Alright guys, two things:
First off, sorry that post took so long. I wanted to have it done yesterday morning, but family drama happened and... well, it was a bit too long to just write absent-mindedly.
I apologize if I've made some grammatical mistakes here and there, but I don't have time to properly proof-read right now as I've gotta' pack, and I'm sure I'll spend more time on this later today.

Secondly, as of tomorrow I am going to Berlin for five days.
I will be bringing my laptop and I'll try my best to be active, but I have no idea whether I will be able to be active here.
If so, I hope you guys will still be able to talk and discuss amongst yourselves. We've got two new players waiting to get into the game, and although I've got their entrance coming up right around the corner I am going to pull them in right now if there aint enough posts before I leave.
They have waited too long already, I reckon.
 
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"Ahem, excuse me..."
Just as everyone is getting settled down around the table, the man in the orange robe makes a second appearance. He is still smiling.
"I apologize for interrupting, but at the behest of the court's leadership there are going to be made... additions, to your group. More help cannot hurt, don't you agree?
So, without further ado, allow me to introduce one Eveline Goriot and Skojam Wheelwalker. Enjoy the meal!"
And with that, he vanishes. A few steps behind where he stood a moment earlier two people, a fully grown man and a female herder who appears slightly younger, are standing. Both of them look just as confused as everyone else.
In the ensuing silence, the judges notice that there conveniently appears to be two leftover seats by the table.


- - - Eveline Goriot and Skojam Wheelwalker have joined the judges - - -



OOC:
Alright guys, that's my last post before I'm headed to Berlin! Hopefully I'll have access to the internet, but only time will tell. I'm really sorry for the terrible timing of this, but I don't really have a say in the matter. Cheers!
 
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Skojam looked around. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Perhaps he shouldn't have drunk so much wine before coming here. Still a bit drunk, he had a grin on his face while walking towards his seat. As he came to the seat, he calmly said:
"Greetings... A pleasure to meet you all."
After taking his seat, he looked around, noticing Drem Hazeol. He couldn't believe that he was there. He always considered his work to be filled with many emotions, similar to the writers of the begining of the period of peace and prosperity.
"Drem Hazeol? An honour to meet you, boy. I've read most of your works. Although I don't quite adore the topics about which you write, your writing style is on par with many famous writers."
 
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As Drem entered the Lounge, still plagued by questions concerning the trail, he looks around to get a glimpse of the place and was awed by the beauty of the area. For one moment upon seeing such a sight, he forgot about the questions that troubled him and was taken back by the magnificence of the lounge. He sat down on one of the chairs, still marveling the architectural design.
"My. Now this is something you don't see everyday." He spoke as he looked around.
Then, two new judges were introduced.
Drem looked at the new judges and back to the others, inspecting their appearance.
All the other judges were different from each other, their choice of garments, the way they walk, how they act, and the aura they give off.
"It seems the Court really spread their net to find such unique individuals." He added as he carefully eyed each one.
Soon one of the new judges had spoken excitedly. The man praised Drem for his works and Drem was surprised by this sudden acknowledgment.
"P-please, no need for the praise but I-uh do thank you for it." He stammered, a bit abashed.
 
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The magnificent Cindethyre lounge was breathtaking for Eveline. Lounge was poor choice of words to describe such elaborate creation. But there was no time to be awestruck as there were people sitting at the table. Everyone looked to be quite important and some were rather strange individuals. Trying best to hide excitement Eveline politely bowed and took the last remaining seat at the table. There was slight feeling of inferiority for Eveline, being surrounded by people she knew nothing about and they already had advantage of knowing her name. Granted they couldn't possibly know who she is by knowing her name alone but that already was a disadvantage.

The partner latecomer already jumped at the chance to socialize. His focus was on a young and shy man who he identified as famous author. Young man did not deny the claim and seemed to be quite humbled. He did seem as the weakest link and perhaps late in more private arrangement Eveline could extract some information. So many questions and so many people.
 
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Skojam laughed when he heard how the young Drem responded.
"Lad, a bit shy, aren't we? Well, I'm glad I have a fellow writer here to talk with, since I expect we'll be here for a while."
He also noticed Eveline taking a seat. Noticing the way she looked at Drem he was already intrigued as to why she did it. Perhaps he should keep an eye on them or drink some more.
"So, there rest of you have already feasted here. I have a question to ask. What is the strongest drink here?"
 
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Skojam took a good look at the man, he was baffled by her statement. He didn't expect that from him. An awful thing to say, keeping him sober when he could already be drunk. Being always quick to judge and quick to change opinions, he thought to himself:
'I dislike this one.'
He then proceeded to calm himself down and say:
"So... no rum?"

OOC: Sorry bout that, also, while I'm at it, is Eveline's name a reference to Le Pere Goriot?
 
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Syhr studies the two newcomers, but apart from nods of acknowledgement he says nothing. Rhyme lets her eyes dance across both of them as well and cracks a fierce smile. She too says nothing, but Eveline feels the half-armored woman's eyes rest on her for just long enough to make her slightly uncomfortable.
At Skojam's second enquiry for a strong drink, a small whirlwind of autumn-coloured leaves springs to life from the ground at his side. Within it emerges a man, clad in a gray robe and with a gold-adorned noteblock in his left hand. His hair is white as snow and combed back over his scalp, his visage marked by age with deep wrinkled lines.
In his right hand he holds a cast-iron pen, and his face is locked in what is no-doubt a practiced expression of casual indiffirence.
The whirlwind fades after a brief moment, but the man remained.
"Good evening honoured brothers and sisters. It has come to my attention that your dining arrangements may not be satisfactory, and that will not do.
My name is Kimorr, head caretaker of the noble beast Cindethyre. What do you require?"


OOC: Greetings from your DM who is currently in Berlin! I've got a connection to the net, but it doesn't seem like I'll be able to use it all too often I'm afraid. I'll try my best to keep up with the RP, but I don't know if I can. 'till then, I'd reccomend you keep up the banter and get to know each other In-Character. Perhaps even do some planning? Anyways, glad to see the new players already active. Cheers!
 
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Kimorr faces Arilia and smiles a dry, apologetic smile.
"I'm afraid we do not stock imaginary concepts birthed by the minds of smoke-mazed* poets, honoured brother. Can I perhaps interest you in something which exists?"



*Under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs.
 
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Eveline looked at strange man making odd requests. Something about him doesn't seem right.

"So am I correct to assume that the trial went badly when everyone is looking forward to getting drunk. Mister Skojam and myself would be thankful if someone here would share the situation so far."

Little too direct but Eveline didn't want anymore to be in the dark.

OOC: Sky Green yes you got me it is reference to Le Pere Goriot, father even has similar background. Sorry i didn't see your OOC.
 
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Eveline listened carefully to the old man.

"Pardon but am I to understand that the whole trial is charade to keep us here? Does everyone here agrees with... oh I am sorry, I didn't quite catch your name sir."

OOC: I wouldn't say you should stop. In case of knowing player characters I would suggest first check with players themselves. Though keep in mind we aren't in modern age so information can't be as accurate as it is today, I personally find those little flaws believable, like making a mistake and assuming dwarf would drink dwarf beverage.
 
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OOC - DM Message:
Alright everyone, time out. The RP is now paused, and every post made after this one in this thread can safely be disregarded until I inform you all that the RP has resumed. The reasons for this will be posted in the post below, and in its continuation in the OOC thread.

Alright...
You all have my sincerest apologies, as what this post contains isn't fun for anyone and might lead to a bit of drama; I'm kicking a player.

Specifically, I'm kicking frettory. As of this post, frettory is no longer part of this roleplay and no longer welcome in any of its threads. Should he wish to discuss this decision with me then he is free to send me a PM, as honestly I don't feel that the rest of you deserve being exposed to that.

For those of you who don't care about the reasons why I'm doing this, you don't have to read any of what follows in this post nor what will be posted in this thread or the OOC thread until I inform you that the RP is resumed. I'll send all of you a VM when we're ready to start again.

The reason that I'm pausing the RP is that there needs to be a slight cleanup in frettory's recent posts, and that we might end up doing a rewind back 'till the point in time where Eveline and Skojam have just been introduced as well as a few small retcons. Don't worry, it shouldn't take long.

Now, regarding the reasons that I'm kicking frettory, I'm making a continuation of this post in the OOC thread. Please join me there if you want to know the reasons behind this deciscion or voice your opinion on it.


EDIT: Due to mod intervention against frettory's rather extreme reaction to this a large chunk of the OOC thread was removed, including the continuation of this post. Since the mods may have other reasons than a mass wipe for removing it, I have no intentions of reposting it. If you wish to see it however, I will gladly send it to you in a PM.
 
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OOC - DM Message:
Alright everyone, storm's over. I've been told that things got a little bit heated in my absence, and although I am actually not certain what it entailed frettory's posts have hence been removed from both this and the OOC thread.
At any rate I am going to resume the RP. We're turning time backwards a little bit, resuming the RP just after Kimorr's arrival (this post):

Syhr studies the two newcomers, but apart from nods of acknowledgement he says nothing. Rhyme lets her eyes dance across both of them as well and cracks a fierce smile. She too says nothing, but Eveline feels the half-armored woman's eyes rest on her for just long enough to make her slightly uncomfortable.
At Skojam's second enquiry for a strong drink, a small whirlwind of autumn-coloured leaves springs to life from the ground at his side. Within it emerges a man, clad in a gray robe and with a gold-adorned noteblock in his left hand. His hair is white as snow and combed back over his scalp, his visage marked by age with deep wrinkled lines.
In his right hand he holds a cast-iron pen, and his face is locked in what is no-doubt a practiced expression of casual indiffirence.
The whirlwind fades after a brief moment, but the man remained.
"Good evening honoured brothers and sisters. It has come to my attention that your dining arrangements may not be satisfactory, and that will not do.
My name is Kimorr, head caretaker of the noble beast Cindethyre. What do you require?"

Concerning Arilia, he never arrived in Cindethyre along with the rest of the judges. Any actions relating to him since the arrival in the lounge will be considered non-canon. Should any issues regarding this arise, let me know and I'll fill in the gaps.

Again, sorry for this mess. Cheers everyone, and merry christmas.

-Roleplay Resumed-
 
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The sudden appearance of Kimorr caught Eveline by surprise. She wasn't used to magic and by the looks of things she won't be used too anytime soon. At least it distracted her thoughts from the cheerful iron maiden.

"A glass of wine would be appreciated kind sir. Also who would here be kind enough to fill in mister Skojam and myself regarding our purpose here?"

Eveline was scored at herself for sounding so insecure but whole situation was more then she was used to.
 
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Kimorr nods courtly.
"Very well, rum and beer-coastd boar ribs will be served momentarily."
He then disappears and reappears by Eveline's side, where he grabs hold of a nearby wine jug standing on the table and pours her a glass from it.
As he pours, his gaze locked on the glass in front of him, he begins speaking.
"As far as I am aware, you are the court's newest judges. As of right now, you're passing judgement unto a young noble, correct? Tolk, I believe."
 
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Rhyme takes a bite out of a large, red piece of goat meat, chews it thoroughly and nods approvingly.
She swallows, then turns her gaze to Drem.
"Yeah, I'm calling bullshit on that one. I mean, I know that some of you soft-minded folks don't handle witnessing mass slaughter very well, but for all of them to cave in and kill themselves? Someone clearly didn't want any of those people to tell their story more than once."
 
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Eveline's face becomes pale as she listens.

"We are to judge a murderer of 300 people? How does one even kill so many alone and why? And then he kills even the witnesses? Are we then next for participating in this trial?"

As she finishes speaking, she takes a good sip of the wine to calm herself. Now was not the time to look weak she thought.
 
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