The monk is the first to step forward...
"My Lord...there is little doubt in my mind as to whether the young man stole the item in question and I cannot speak of his motivations be they good or evil. I can say that he has shown himself to be a magician of no small talent and that he is the only one of us who has vital information about this cube. I just do not know if it is safe for us to experiment with this item without his knowledge. I know you may think that if the item is so unsafe that it should be destroyed and in some ways I agree but this item is of such power that it may be vital for the future of the Knyaz and all the Rus. Please keep my words in mind when making your decision."

He bows his head deeply as he walks away.

Barmak steps forward, bowing respectfully to Dobrynya.

"Dread general," he begins, "as I understand, this artifact of which your holy man has spoken has the capacity to open doorways to Heaven and Hell; we have witnessed first-hand that powerful spirits from those realms may be drawn here through those doorways, but that they are not necessarily bound to the will of the one who summons them.  Such powers in the hands of mere mortals have often proven a corruption; so it is said among my people.  In these tales, such creatures have made those who would be their masters into their slaves.  The Kynaz may be a greater man than these rulers of past ages, yet still I am not ashamed to urge caution."

"As to the matter of Pyotr," he continues, regarding the boy with a stern expression, "he is guilty of theft, of disobeying the captain of the vessel who granted him safety, and of endangering the Kynaz's servants and his city by summoning an Efreet, a powerful and prideful spirit of Hell.  When he saw that the spirit was uncontrollable, he fled, leaving us to our doom."

"There are two possibilities as I see them.  Either Pyotr could not bind the Efreet to his will, demonstrating a lack of wisdom and endangering the Kynaz's army and the city we were to claim for him, and he fled in fear for his own life; or he knowingly invited this creature to destroy us, to secure his own escape with the artifact and evade punishment, or for even darker purposes of which we are not yet aware."

"In the former case," the Persian reasons, "a man might reasonably excuse a child for poor judgment, but it has been made clear that Pyotr is no child, despite the deceptive illusion of his appearance.  What is he?  Is he an incubus, a demon-spawn in human form?  Is he Fey, childlike and unpredictable, but with considerable power?  We have been told that he is of forty years of age!  I would not absolve a grown man of doing the things Pyotr has done.  Should we do so because he takes on the appearance of a mere boy?  Surely he uses his appearance and childish manner to lull us into underestimating him."

"Judgment is yours, O General," Barmak concludes, slowly bowing once more toward Dobrynya, "but I beseech you not to pardon his crimes."  Having said his part, he steps back into the assembly.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:45, Thu 11 Mar 2010.

After Barmak spoke, Alyna stepped forward and bowed before Dobrynya. "My Lord, please forgive me for raising my voice at this trial. All I want to state is that Pjotr is a so called half-elf, the product of a union of someone of my people with someone of your people. Half-Elves do not age like humans, and it is not unheard of that they look like human children until a high age. I cannot tell whether or not his appearance is an illusion. All i can say is that he truely can be a child. I am sure though that someone of the powerful magicians present here would be able to judge whether his appearance is an illusion or not, since it must be magic then if it is an illusion."

She took a short pause before she continued: "You discipline a child, but you do not kill or maim a child. Regardless of what he did. And it is quite possible that Pjotr is a child that acted in a childish way. That is all I have to say."

Bowing again, Alyna returns to her previously held seat.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Thu 11 Mar 2010.

"Milord Dobrynya," bows Dyanna as she approaches the wagon upon which he sits.

"'Tis easy for superstitious folk to cast aspersions based upon lack of understanding.  For those of educated mien, however, understanding should be the cornerstone of judgement."

She pauses and looks about for a moment, then turns her attention to the bound form of Pyotr.

"Here is one of fey blood, held captive and left to stew in his own shit despite the fact that his assistance helped secure the very treasure that we speak of.  When spoils were divided his input was discarded and he was commanded to relinquish what was rightfully his share though his efforts were instrumental in the defeat of the Byzantine ship we were traveling on."

"He was further forgotten by those who secured the city, and when we, the vanguard were nearly overborne he placed himself in grave jeopardy for the good of all by opening a portal.  In so doing he became the only one with practical knowledge which we all can benefit from."

"For one intent on conquest and the establishment of a foothold in this region for the Knyaz, I think there is opportunity here for a shrewd ruler.  No doubt young Pyotr is puissant for one yet to reach full potential.  Imagine how much more so he will become with the right tutors and mentors.  Granting him limited freedom as the charge of Balthazar, or even myself, is a fair trade for his disobediance."

Bowing again to Dobrynya she finishes, "I thank you for allowing me my say."

Barmak's expression is taut as he listens to the testimonies of the women.  He frowns at many of their words, but remains silent.

Balthazar bows and says, "I'd just like to hear Pyotr speak in his own defense first."

        Gultunga the stridesman steps forward, smacks his chest loudly with
the flat of his right hand whilst speaking in a deep respectful tone to
Dobrynya, and those that are gathered about the wagons 'court' . . .

        "Gultunga gives greetings to thy mighty Lordship Dobrynya!  Mineself
am a warrior, a rider of wooden horses, and I well know that if ones sword com-
panion chooses to be n'subordinate to thine Captain under such dire circum-
stances, then we shalt expect no less o' Pyotr in the future;  he will mores the
likely choose such a course again if its to his benefit . . . even if its at
everyones expense.  Gultunga wholeheartedly agrees with Barmack, whom hath so
eloquently stated the weighty charges against Pyotr most clearly, n' which hath
been substantiated by more than the three required witnesses as dictated by the 'Law of the Sea' . . . including our honorable Captain himself;  its most
obvious that he's guilty no matter how one twists their words n' Pyotrs favor.

         If Pyotr expects glory from his ill thought out actions, we should re-
mind him that if it tweren't for Sir Jeans actions, we'd mores the likely be
corpses at the now.  N' fact Sir Jean took great risks n' just making the wishes
that he didst to avert a fate worse than death for one and all.

         Gultunga doth naught wont to neglect to mention one significantly important thing about the consequence of Pyotrs actions, we hath now a new adv-
ersary that we'll hath to face in the future;   an adversary whom tis more
powerful than we could ev'r imagine, and all because of one mans egotistical
stupidity and lack of foresight.

         What good is a victory today if tomorrow we hath the wrath of a
vengeful Effreet to deal with!  Gultunga wouldst rather face the enemy horde
that had been arrayed before us than hath to face a vengeful Effreet!

         Gultunga suggests that Pyotr be drawn n' quartered publically for
breaking the code of the Sea, and for murderin n'ocents without proper orders.

         Gultunga wishes to also shed unrefutable doubt upon Dyannas and Alynas
testimonies, as they are mores the likely biased, and their motives equally
questionable.  Gultunga finds that Gultunga must point out that they were aboard
our enemies vessels whence we engaged them at sea along with Pyotr.  Their
interests mores the likely lie with our enemies or some other unkown power
moreso than with ours.

         Lastly I wouldst reccomend that the cube be tossed into the sea to be lost forever . . . so that its power can no longer corrupt r'e be abused by such ones as Pyotr.  No matter how much one argues n' favor o' keeping it, the consequences o' testing it power far exceeds that which can be gained from it, especially so when all could be lost by one simple mistake.  No one listend to Gultungas sound advice earlier whence I spoke against the cube being kept r'e even trusting the strangers that we'd just met.

         Do naught ruin the morale O' your stridesman r'e fellow warriors by allowing one so unworthy and distrustful to remain amidst r'e ranks.  Tis hard
enough to keep an eye on ones enemy during battle, especially so whence one hath
to worry about a sword companion that mayst just as easily kill um for his
greedy self serving purposes.  The cube hath already corrupted Pyotr beyond
redemption, we should naught allow anyone else to be placed n' such a position
tither ev'r again!  Death to Pyotr Gultunga exorts thee most fervently!

         Mayst thy judgement transcend the wisdom of the ancients my Lordship whence it comes to thy decision concerning the curr knownst to us as Pyotr as well as for the fate of the vile ensorceled cube!"

         The Stridesman backs away into the crowd upon finishing his oratory.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:49, Fri 12 Mar 2010.

"As I said: 'understanding is the cornerstone of judgement - and there goes proof irrefutable evidence of a lack of understanding...'" replies Dyanna to Gultunga's retreating back.

Jean stood quietly having positioned himself nearby to Alyna. His attempt to act in Pyotr's behalf had been rejected out of hand and he did not intend to speak unless he was directly called upon.

Dyanna's outburst at Gultunga drew his eye and he glanced at Dobrynya to see how he would react to the violation of protocol.

It was only a matter of time before the outspoken woman's inability to control her mouth resulted in trouble for her and her version of events was colored in Pyotr's favor to the point of dementia but this was not after all Jean's court therefore he held his tongue.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Fri 12 Mar 2010.

The small lad stands before the tribunal, dwarfed by his his judges, his jury, and his executioners, those eager to see his blood flow, of this he had little doubt.

And though his years had been scant, Pyotr was raised proud, and would neither beg, nor bargain for his safety, be it by appeasing Dobrynya by blowing Stridesmen-quality peppermint scented smoke up his arse, or the dishonorable offer made to him by the so-called 'knight' to trade himself into servitude for possible succor.

The truth would erect his defense, and if (as he imagined) he was now in a place where the Truth had no value, he didn't much care if death was the result.

Though he would like to have had a chance to kiss his mommy good-bye.

"I will not defend myself lord, because I have yet to hear anything that sounded like a legitimate accusation, though who knows what discourse went on, while I was left lying in a dark room so cold I wished for the ability to pee on myself, long after my thirst deprived me of the ability.

"I have been bound, gagged, and neglected to a degree that can only be called torture, and in any civilized land it is these others that would be in chains before a magistrate. But I try to live in the here and now, not dwell in fairy tales.

"I will, however, address the issues brought before you here this morning. Let us start at the hind-quarter," he says, eying Gultunga, " and work our way back to the front. His request was that I be drawn and quartered to preserve the safety of the others, correct?"

He stretches his neck for a moment, cramped in every muscle in his small tortured frame.

"There is every reason to believe that Sir Jean has earned a greater portion of the creatures ire. (He did not spring from Hades or Hel, by the way, he is a creature of fire, dangerous, but not innately evil.) If, as the Stridesmen states, I should be drawn and quartered for the danger I pose to you all, surely the Frankish Knight should be first, as he is the greater focus of the Efreet's rage, no? I simply summoned the creature, i did not trick it. Draw and quarter the Frank!"

He glances around, catching the eyes of a few of his former comrades.

"To be honest, I would not be loathe to have it happen, as long as I go second, considering he came to me with honeyed promises of his ability to dictate your decision today, to sway you to my cause, if I would swear an oath of servitude to him. Apparently the 'evil mage' I am being made out to be is okay, if my magics are used in his cause."

The young elf attempts to swallow, painfully, as his ability to create saliva had vanished hours ago.

"But wait, I was a mind reader, for the entertainment of the masses once, and a mind such as Tunga there, is an open book. 'No, the Knights actions were to save us!', he will protest!"

The lad shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips.

"As were mine, clearly, so if such a defense works for the Frank, it holds true for me as well, in any land of logic."

He blinks, trying to re-moisten his red, dry eyes, long since having lost the fluids with which to cry another drop.

"He doubts my motives, of course.For Glory!" Pyotr mocks.

"Any who know me understand that 'Glory' has never meant two coppers coins to me, and only a fool thinks there is 'glory' to be found in randomly summoning monsters, in an enclosed room, while his comrades appear to be inches away from death outside, anyway. Surely Glory would have been found in slinking away, and using the cube when I had had a chance to study it, yes?

"But not to him, because, to put it simply, most of us tend to judge others by our own measure. And who among us hasn't, at least once, listened to the fractured rhymes and stumbling meter of Tunga, and though, 'here is one who seeks glory'?"

He laughes, roughly.

"By the beard of the human Christ, who spouts out 'drawn and quartered' in such a venue, but one who craves attention, and bathes in drama? His every word is verbal masturbation at it's most self indulgent."

He attempts to spit on the ground in emphasis, but there isn't anything to come out.

"No, I will not defend myself against such a folly, if he worked in the circus, he would wear a cap with bells, and bells annoy me."

Turning towards Dynna and Alyna, he does his best to bow in their direction, without impaling his soft, Adams-apple-free throat on the blade.

"The pretty ladies do not accuse, but in their voices are echoes of the words of others; of the Efreet, whom many of you trust so well as to believe his every word, that I am some illusion, some ancient in the guise of a child. Well I will tell you this, I have seen things, and done things, no child, as you humans understand the concept, should ever know.

"But I do not claim to be a human child. Surprise!

"That does not deny the fact that all that I have seen and done, has been thru the eyes of one whose maturity is not what you expect from one who has lived four decades on the plains and mountains of these lands."

he glances around again, looking for a cavalryman, or a farmer in the crowd.

"Many animals are near full grown in a year or two, correct? Would you, or you, put your one and two year old sons into an infantry line?"

He pauses, in case of laughter from the crowd at the bizarre though.

"Of course not. Nor would you ride into combat on a twenty year old horse, despite the fact a human child with so many years has reached his maturity.

"These are facts you face everyday, but when fear enters a persons heart, he assumes the worst. Am I a 'human child'? No. Nor am I am elven infant. My mind races ahead of my body, and I control some small eldritch power, but my body races ahead of my heart, and no amount of travel, reading, combat or discourse can increase the pace at which I ripen.

"Am I accused of being different then you? My apologies my lord, but this offense I cannot defend myself against. If this be the charge, Then please, please Tunga, and send for some bizarre fletching device, and have my flesh shredded from my form and spewed around the square, while he does a happy dance in the Elven-Rain with bells on his shoes, and tears of joy in his beady eyes, but I will die happy knowing I am not like him."

He glances about, perhaps not wisely demanding to know if those around are like him as well.

"My mentors often test me with games of memory and order. If I recall correctly, Barmak spoke before the gentle ladies. He charged me with reckless endangerment, and theft... theft of an item taken from a dead mans chest at sea. From whom did I steal it? The man I helped slay, in protection of the Captain's ship? The only theft was the attempted theft of the captain, in trying to take my rightful piece of the treasure, after I used by abilities to divine the purposes of them all. My only crime was in honestly sharing the nature of the cube, but that was a childish indiscretion that I will never repeat, mostly because I expect to be dead within the hour. Would it have been safer in the hands of one who did not understand the cube, but who could summon such creatures simply by touching the side of the cube incorrectly? Leaving that in the hands of those without training and knowledge would have been a much more heinous crime."

He gives a sharp glance in Barmak's direction, followed by a sad shake of his head.

"Did saving Ulf's life give you not a glimmer of my heart? How dead must your own be..."

He takes a deep breath, and turns his attention once more to the judge.

"But he also accused me of 'putting this city at serious risk'! Yes, indeed, risk, a risk I shared. But if there is guilt to be found in putting this city at risk, then seek out and slay those who hired the Pechengii mercenaries! Certainly that risk was greater, and brought about with more foreknowledge then my actions. To my eyes, the city was lost, and all my comrades dead. I was away from the wall, I could easily have gotten free, but instead I used my limited abilities to forestall the attack on the gate, and when these powers ran dry, I did the only thing I could do; I rolled the dice. Did I know the potential risk? Yes, I confess, I did. But I had an equal chance of summoning a powerful being for good, and a much greater chance of summoning some mindless beast, that I hoped to drop into the fray. "

His eyes light up a bit, clearly enraptured at this alternate world, where his efforts had gone more in the way he had hoped.

"Justice says those that hired the mercenaries should die before be, if this is the charge, as my offense was a direct result of their foolishness, ipso facto. But if you declare Death to those who risk, and dare, and hope, you kill more then myself in this world, and if you declare Death for those who risk themselves to save others, then kill me now, for I do not wish to live in such a cowardly world."

He pauses, sucking in a deep breath. His voice was now ragged almost to whispers, but he continues. Not in panic, but with a clear intent to finish before he is slain.

He glances in the direction of Zmija, and smirks.

"I don't even know who that guy is, but I don't think he was even there when I claimed the cube, I have no clue why he thinks it was theft, but that point has been addressed."

He pauses, his eyes glazed, his thoughts turned inward. He comes to a decision, and speaks again.

"In all honesty, I must tell you, if I live, I will consider that cube my property. Throwing it to the bottom of the sea will only postpone by reclaiming it. Keeping it will earn you my undying hatred. It is mine, by right. By right of combat, by right of knowledge, and by maritime law, and I make my claim clear and open, for all here before me, and the gods above to see. If the point of this trial is in fact to claim that device, out of greed for wealth, greed for power, or greed for greeds sake, then justice should have no part of your decision here today, only fear. Of me."

He sags, clearly sapped of his last bit of energy.

"If that is all, I am a miserable wreck, I am sick of the stench of my own bowel movements, I fear that fewer then three of my fingers will ever work again, and I am so hungry I would only harm myself if you gave me a last meal, so let us skip it. Please summon your executioner, and let us have at. Please."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:02, Fri 12 Mar 2010.

Alyna did stand up right in the middle of Pjotr's speak, a look of disgust on her face. She walked to the back while everyone was watching the boy. There she got herself a flask of water and some white bread. Walking back to the trial, a soldier tried to stop her. She just glared at him, until he lowered his eyes and made way.

Back at the trial, Alyna walked straight to Pjotr. The boy was just finished. She knelt down beside him and said: "I am sorry that i cannot do more at this point, but here is some water and some bread." With that she handed it over to the boy.

Her eyes were sending sparks all around when she walked back to her chair. She was obviously outraged about the way the half-elf has been treated so far. She made no verbal accusation though.

Barmak crosses his arms after a minute into Pyotr's defense, with a grave scowl.  He inclines his face when he is specifically named, and for a moment his expression softens as Pyotr reminds him of how he tended to Ulfr when the big man was poisoned.  Yet Barmak's frown returns and hardens as he continues speaking.

The Persian's lips tighten in a thin line as words rise unbidden into his mind, demanding to be given voice.  Yet he forces himself to observe decorum and hold his tongue for now.

Clearly unhappy with the lack of protocol the future Regent of Khorsun leans forward and asks Pyotr..."When Miroslav, the captain of the ship ordered you to place the cube int he chest...did you place a false object in and keep the item for yourself? Simple yes or no will do."

To the others he says..."Keep in mind this is no simple civil matter...but a martial one. Not the simple theft of a cow to weigh but a crime commited on a ship consigned to the Knyaz in a battle. This is dire...I would hear others speak but I grow impatient and will decide soon."

To Miroslav..."What of the other treasure taken from the ship? Was it distributed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Fri 12 Mar 2010.

Miroslav steps forward and replies..."We gained the following from the ship: 1000 Gold pieces...
1 gold ring inscribed with a flame that Pyotr said gave warmth...
1 fine dagger Pyotr identified as having a small enchantment...
1 ruby with a sigil incised that he said would heal wounds... And the small faceted cube of greyish metal.

Except for the cube all remain locked in my sea chest. Treasure was not distributed...we were still on the scene of battle sir. We then headed straight for the meeting point and things moved quickly from there as you know."

Loukas listened carefully, but given that he had had so little contact with Pyotr and the rest of them there was little he could add. It was interesting that despite all of the words spoken they had yet heard Pyotr's explanation for events. It seems we now have several dancers amongst our crew.

A'kos looked on with little interest, watching as some of the men scowled down at the half pint.

"Wonder how they're gonna kill him," he murmured to Jaleh.

Jaleh snickered, hardly even watching the proceedings beyond a cursory interest. "I don't think they're going to. They're making a lot of bluster and noise as most men do to make themselves feel big and self important, nut in the end they'll find some excuse not to kill him. I think if they were really serious about killing him, they should have already cut his throat. If it was me, I would have already done it. They may as well be stroking each other off."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Sat 13 Mar 2010.

One eye peers down at his companion as he chuckles.

"A lot of bluster for the aftermath of a successful battle...truth be told the tyke fairly made little difference one way or another."

Jaleh nodded. "So much pomp and circumstance though, and all about one whose actions made so little difference. Perhaps his only real crime was in wounding someone's pride?"

Munching slowly on a bit of the water soaked bread placed in his mouth (as his hands are still bound,) he gives the Captain a curiously look.

He then turns once again to Dobrynya.

"My memory is as follows. I took the items out of the chest, I determined their value. The Captain then spoke..."

(Pyotr drops his voice half-an-octave, mimicking the voice of Miroslav.)

"Aye, this device sound very dangerous but I am not sure it will be any safer in my hands than in someones who has some understanding of the object. I would leave you in charge of this item since you have some idea what it is. But for my peace of mind, keep in in this chest and stay near me."

He coughs twice, then his voice returns to normal.

"In essence, he gave the item to me, then requested that I put the item in the box, for his peace of mind. I soothed his concern by placing another item in the box, and my own, by not allowing such a device to be in the hands of those who did not understand it."

He looks at the Captain again as he continues.

"So no, I did not place a false item in the box, when ordered to place the item within, because no order was given. As to the remainder of the items, I cannot speak to their whereabouts, but they had not been placed back within the box when the Captain turned and walk away. I had laid them out for examination, but he closed the box after only the single item was placed within. I left for breakfast, so their location is not known to me."

He returns his gaze to the judge.

"This was after the battle, while we putzed around on the deck, the crew poking thru treasure, one item of which almost killed one of your sailors. We then found a woman afloat in the sea, and spent some time getting her onto the ship. We then stood around and debated the proper treatment for a wound to Gultunga, while the crew gawked at the females wet clothing, and tugged at the front of their drawers. In fact, we did just about everything but paint the ship blue and red before the crew bent it's back to move once again.

"I only mention this, because the Captain's description of events so differs from my recollection. It doesn't speak directly to the point, but it does make one wonder how much his words can be trusted, and it also makes one wonder how much of the treasure would have made it into your hands, without a visit from the Efreet."

He staggers, clearly losing the ability to stand, keeping his footing only from fear of falling on the unsheathed blade at his throat; an effort that might fail at any moment.

"But as you have stated, this is not about theft, this is about my actions during the combat, actions that would have been made into Sagas, had I been a muscular man-ox with a big blade, thrusting myself into dangers way to save others.

"As the risk and danger I thrust myself into was magical, and cerebral, unusual and difficult to comprehend, my risk is looked at askance.

"But trust me, there is no hero in any saga who placed himself in greater danger for less potential self interest then I, not in the legends of Greece, the histories of Rome, or the poetry of the North."

He shakes his head, confounded that beings stupid enough to not see the truth before their eyes have not accidentally stabbed themselves in the eye with a fork, and bled to death while they finished their meal, rather then hunt for bandage.

"No one of sense has found any way I could have even dreamed of profiting from my actions. Not a single accuser has found a way to make my actions seem anything less then completely selfless. Not a man among those who slaver for my ripe young flesh to be torn across the yard by wild dogs, has shown me any motivation other then blood-lust for even accusing me of anything."

Spent, he loses his balance, and collapses to the floor, impalement on the blade, or escape for a moment longer, totally in the hands of the fates.

Looking on shrewdly A'kos murmurs, "He is quite the actor, though.  Might be better off without such a cunning little fox at our back."

      Gultunga steps forward after hearing Pyotrs whitewash of the truth,
and addresses his Lordship . . .

      Your Lordship excuse Gultunga n' begs Gultungas pardon, please permit
me to speak further.

      Once his Lordship grants Gultunga permission, the Stridesman continues
 . . .
       "I must voice my having taken xception to Pyotrs testimoney, n' to clarify
the truth wot hath been twisted by him beyond recognition!  He also wishes to
twist wot hath been spoken against him by attacking his accusors with polemics
and unwarranted justifications pon his own behalf that hath nothing to do with the charges against him.  His accusors r'e naught on trial but Pyotr himself.

        Twas greed for power n' naught our interests wot sparked his actions.
To risk our mission with powers beyond Pyotrs control was naught an act pon our
behalf, but a vehicle for Pyotrs own personal ambitions for power, n' to enhanse
his own enchantments.

      By his own words Pyotr admits to disobeying our Captains orders.  He
took it pon himself to twist the words O' our Captian and claims the cube
as his by right, yet he hath no legal claim to anything at all!  First he tis
naught e' member O' r'e crew, second the treasure hath naught been divided, n'
third r'e Captain merely put him in charge O' the chest with the condition O'
staying by the Captains side, n' keepin the items within the chest untouched for later disposition.  To hold something for the Captain tis quite different than
having been bequeathed a legal portion of treasures taken n' combat by the
Captain.

      Of course the lad paid no heed to our Captains orders.  The crew hath
already voiced their concerns o'er the cube, n' that it should naught be
touched at all due to the bane that couldst befall us all.

      Worst O' all, whence Pyotr fled n' with his own machinations took it
pon himself to use the cube irresonsibly, he realized that he'd couldst na
control wot he hath summonzed, he ran, leaving us all to the devices O' the
Effreet!

       One such as he tis a worry greater than that O' r'e adversaries.
His presence tis a threat to us all.  He may attempt to tickles r'e ears
with sweet words, but that doth naught change the truth o' wot he did . . .
by putting all o' our lives needlessly at risk, not to mention disobeying the
Captains direct orders!

       To ignores Pyotrs insubordination, as well as the threat that he placed
one and all under by toying with the powerful cube wouldst greatly undermine the
morale O' those whom hath sworn themselves to thy service.

       Looking pon his arse raises Gultungas bile to say the least.  To die by
Gultungas own mistakes n' battle tis one thing, but to hath Gultungas life
placed n' undue jeapordy by another tis quite another matter . . . especially by
one whom tis not one O' Gultungas fellow crew companions, but a stranger to us all!"

       The Stridesman returns to Barmacks side after having spoken once again.

"He's going to be there though," Jaleh whispered in return. "Unless you drive him out of the group or kill him yourself. Them letting him talk is one of the reasons I said they weren't going to kill him. It already shows they're hesitant to do it because they're concerned with giving him a trial instead of just taking vengeance on him."

From his position on the floor, the raggedy haired youth pleads to all the gods, be they above or below.

"By the Gods, and their God-mothers, somebody cut that damn idiots tongue out. He clearly has not the ears to listen, nor the brains to comprehend even the words of a mere child, and his understanding of this situation shows him to be an imbecile beyond compare, and a lack-wit beneath contempt."

He rolls over, his rage evident in his eyes, and makes to wiggle his way towards Thunga, perhaps to bite him to death, and call it a flesh wound.

"Tell me this, if you can remember how to speak, without loosing your bowels at the same time, what 'glory' was the ultimate intent of my action?  What 'power' could I have gained? Unravel that well practiced tongue, and put the oars to they dry-docked brain of yours, and answer me that, in less then ten-thousand syllables?"

If he is not stopped, he will hurt himself, either thru falling, on simply slipping, and bashing his head on the floor.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:07, Sat 13 Mar 2010.

        The Stridesman makes a gesture of warding against evil with his
left hand whilst he points an accusatory finger with his right towards Pyotr.

        "Thou art truely crazed from having touched that which should hath
never been touch by mere mortal hands . . . that vile debased cube!  Thee
art a snake Pyotr, thou knows well wot power that Gultunga speaks of, n'
thee cannot deny it.  A Magus that hath control o'er an Effreet, and twists
um unto their will with the goal O' turning them n'to their familiar wouldst
truely be mankinds folly in the end; who knows wot vile machinations such a
Magus would turn to n' their quest for the ulitmate in cornucopias of magics
that they wouldst strive for . . . no matter who stands in their way!

         The cube hath corrupted Pyotrs mind!

         Look the foul creature lies again, falling back onto his false claim
to be n' innocent child, whence we all well know now that he is not.  Pyotr
bears no innocence, n' tis guilty of the charges proferred against him n' then
some!

         Get away from Gultunga 'stygian spawn' whom hails from the Great
Abyss!"


OCC:
         Gultunga is truely amazed that Pyotr can move about so adroitly
with a blade still stuck to his throat . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 08:04, Sat 13 Mar 2010.