Aarnr wakes in a bad mood because his sleep wasn't disturbed by bandits or wild creatures, and is quick to take it out on Bowbe - the line of swearing, insults and downright rudeness a textbook example of piety.

"... odoriferous, vile-standing, cullionly, brazen-faced, scurvy, gorbellied, fishified, swag-bellied, cockered ..."

So by the time the priest arrives at whatever passes for a courthouse in this benighted city, his humour has much improved.

"The god's patience is but froggin' short," Aarnr explains to Anja.  "I can compel the wayward, beef-witted devil-monks to speak truth for but a short time, though if the puttocks are strong or clever they may manage to resist."

The court is located in the open area before the still smoking ruins of the palace.  A table has been placed there, with five chairs arrange around three sides of it.  The table has been covered by a white cloth, and bears five cups, a flask, and a large book which lays open, the pages weighted by an ornate dagger.

The prisoners are led into the court, an look as though they have not slept well.

Moments later, Anja appears around the corner of the ruin, accompanied by five elderly gentlemen, some of whom had fled the blaze in the palace the day before.  Anja sits on the side of the water trough, while the five men approach the table and take seats.  One of them, the one occupying the central position, remains standing, while he addresses the gathering crowd.

"Citizens of Crossroad, long has it been since the old legal customs were observed her.  But we magistrates, even though we have not serve in that capacity for many years, still remember the old forms."

He clears his throat, and speaks louder.  "Hear ye.  This court is in session.  The prisoners may enter their pleas."

One of the prisoners simply smirks, which does nothing to improve his somewhat goblinish features.  The other replies, "You hears no pleadin's from us.  We no is scared of you.  The God pertects us.  If you kills us, we go serve the God.  We do put a curse on them that kills us - them and all their kin is to die of sickness."

Eilieen sits in silence at the beginning of the trial.  She has no doubt how it will end; the only question at this point are the details.  It would seem that the town, however, has decided to act in all fairness, allowing the prisoners to speak and defend themselves.

Not that they do, really; instead, it is mockery and threats.

But the thought of a curse furrows her brow, and she stands. "Magistrates - might I have leave to speak on the matter of this curse?"

Even Aarnr can see that the curses uttered by the bat-fouling, turgid death-tokens might scare the mewling clot-poles that inhabit this city, though naturally their words worry him not at all.

"I'll froggin' kill them myself," the priest assures the Magistrates eagerly, eyeing the prisoners.  "My god would smile on it."

If he must be civil to these fusty, motley-minded haggards in order to ensure that the pox-marked, pribbling prisoners are slain, then that is what he will do.  In the eyes of Bowbe, those who have truck with the undead are far more deserving of a bloody end than those who would stand in judgment upon them.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:42, Mon 04 Sept 2017.

The magistrates confer among themselves quietly, then their spokesman says, "There will be no killing before the trial, and unless they are found guilty of a crime, the prisoners will not be killed after it.  While the trial continues, these... men... are under the protection of the city of Crossroad."

Then he beckons Eilieen forward.  "We are not afraid of their curse.  We have serve this city for many a year, and uncounted prisoners have uttered dire threats and curses against us, and still we live.  But you may speak, if you wish."

The prisoners grace Aarnr with leering grins as the Magistrates denial of his offer to slay them.  The one who had spoken of curses lifts his bound hands, makes an obscene gesture at the priest of Bowbe, and mutters something under his breath.

Arkan sits by his companions, watching the proceedings. His blood cannot help but boil at the mocking attitude displayed by the cultists, aside from being disrespectful it feels wrong.

These villains face all but certain execution, but instead of cowering in fear at their fate and betraying their master they instead seem to take joy in all the attention.

As one of the prisoners makes an obscene gesture towards Aarnr, Arkan turns his head and spits on the ground in response, choosing not to deign him with a reply. He then turns his head back towards the proceedings, preparing to hear what Eileen has to say.

Eilieen bows.  "I am pleased that threats of a curse will not dissuade you from justice.  I wish only to make it known that, through Zadastha's grace, I will attempt to purify any who are cursed by these miserable creatures.  Such things lie within Zadastha's power."

That said, she bows again and steps back to observe further.

"While we do not fear their curses, not all are so confident.  Your blessing might set their thoughts at ease, and for that we would gladly receive them."

The smirking defendant calls out, "We ain't nowt but craftmen, masons, goin' 'bout our trade.  We travel from town ter town ter find work.  Least ways we was, 'til these bastards murdered most of us."

"Indeed?" the Magistrate intones sardonically, "We shall see.  My Lady... " he adresses Eilieen, "... we have been informed that one of your group has the means to discover the truth from those who would conceal it.  Is this so?"

Erista has stayed with the family she spent the night and morning with.  Listening, she looks up at Junna and Ferdun and asks, curiously - quite aside the proceedings, but loudly enough to carry - "Didn't they already pretty much confess with the whole curse thing?  That's not a thing simple masons do where I come from."

Aarnr's mind has been on other matters ... namely how much of a head start he ought to give the masons should they somehow manage to weasel their way out of this before he sets out after them so he can kill the lot of them when he catches them ... so the question regarding the extraction of the truth catches him a little off-guard.

With Eilieen's pointed gaze to assist him, though, the priest quickly realises that the magistrates are asking for something other than a very cross examination with blunt instruments (or sharp ones as the dire and vengeful spirit moves him).

Nodding thoughtfully, and glaring belligerently at the offending masons, Aarnr makes his demands of his god in a typically quiet and respectful manner, which is to say:

"Bowbe !  Thou beslubberin' spur-galled malt-worm !" the priest bellows vehemently.  "Stir thy pock-marked, rank an' reeky rump an' put the fear of thy crook-pated, guts-gripin', odiferous self into these cullionly, common-kissing toads that no falsehood may fall from their quailin', bevenomed, sheep-bitin' tongues !"


OOC: cast Zone of Truth ... and since casting time is a standard action, the above diatribe is delivered at a fair clip !  20' radius area of effect, so should cover most if not all of the court room, ourselves included ...  ;>

Junna nods absently to Erista, occupied as she is by keeping two of her offspring from starting a brawl in the court over the ownership of an apple.  "They were here to see Currinder." she responds quietly, "To my mind, that makes them guilty of something even before any questions have been asked."

"Gods!  What is he shouting about?"

Aarnr finishes his prayer to Bowbe, and there is a subtle change in the argument that Junna is trying to mediate, "Mam!  I stole Ket's apple, and now he wants me to give it back!"  Junna seizes the apple, and transfers it to the other child.

"Ket, share your apple with your brother."

The Magistrates, meanwhile, are regarding Aarnr with something akin to shock on their faces.

Their leader, though, is quick on the uptake.  "Who is this god that you say will avenge your deaths?"

The mason opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, before continuing, "I's not sayin'."

Which brings an angry muttering among the Magistrates.

Astounded by Aarnr's conjuring (Arkan had never been sure if the warrior priest was actually capable of anything of the sort) Arkan eagerly awaits for the cultists to spill all their secrets... and was then bitterly disappointed by the end result.

Flexing his gloved hand into clenched fist Arkan murmurs, "Though I do not advocate torture, perhaps slapping some sense into them, enough to loosen their tongues would be in order?"

"See?  I's thinkin' as 'ow 'e were jus' makin' a big mistake." Colwyn says sagely, keeping his voice low.  "Judges, see, they's right 'appy ter be talkin' 'bout 'ow there won't be no torturin' nor killin', an' 'bout 'ow the court's bein' in a civ'lised kingdom.  They's all sayin' that sort of thing."

"But just as soon as some cove isn't answerin' them's questions, then out they's fetchin' the knives, the needles, the 'ot irons, an' the other things, what I's not rightly bein' knowin' the names of."

The rogue sits back, smiling, and folds his arms.  "I's reckonin' as 'ow this is goin' ter be gettin' interestin'."

There is much discussion among the Magistrates, and many a sour-faced glance at the two accused men.

Then their leader speaks again, "If you will not answer our questions, then you leave us no choice.  Currinder, when he was the chief minister, decide that trial by combat was the fairest means of determining guilt and innocence.  Since you came here to meet with him, it is only fair that we use his principles to decide the outcome of this trial.  In addition, since this whole group of adventurers accuse you, the two of you must battle them all."

"Fear not, though.  If you lose, a priest will consecrate your bodies, and you will be interred in the holy ground a short distance beyond the city.  You say that you will go to serve your god after death, but that will not happen if he cannot fetch your souls from their resting place."

The Magistrate smiles cruelly, "You can avoid this fate by answering one simple question.  Otherwise, you fight to the death, and your remains will be laid in holy ground."

"For how long have you worshipped Orcus?"

Just when he was thinking he'd have to just gut the masons and have done with it, the Magistrates display the sort of low cunning that Aarnr has heard is typical of such creatures.

Indeed the whole trial is now going very well indeed, to his mind.  Legally sanctioned killing means he'll not have to endure bothersome complaints or get shouted at.  Seems very fair that the two have to fight himself and all his friends, as it wouldn't be right to deprive the others of the right.

Consecrating, though ... that does sound nasty.  Aarnr bares his teeth at the two accused, happily, imagining what that might involve and whether they have special implements for that, along the lines that Colwyn has suggested.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Wed 13 Sept 2017.

Eilieen gives Aarnr a vaguely impressed look (for the results, not the demand), Arkan a shocked stare, and Colwyn a disgusted frown.  Torture.  She won't stay if it comes to that; rather, she might, but get involved to stop it.  Making themselves into what they battle, that isn't the proper way of things.

If it were, the world would quickly devolved into the horror of 'but it's necessary!'

For now, she sits in silence, awaiting the Magistrates' consideration...which comes.  It's ruthless, but really?  Not so different than had they encountered the followers of Orcus in the field.  Eilieen would have fought.  Eilieen would have killed them without hesitation.  And that would have been that.

And consecration of them?  Denying them the 'respite' of going to feed Orcus' strength?  With this, she has no issue at all.

"Merciful, in fact," she quietly decides.  The trial, frankly, is a formality to her.  They saw the masons call upon dark powers.  Sufficient evidence lies in their past to demonstrate their affiliation.  In her mind, it's all over but for the choice of endings.

In her preference, swift and simple.

The heretofore vociferous prisoner opens his mouth to say something.  "We... "  And then he stops, as a thoughtful expression spreads across his features.

His companion, however, blurts out, "We'll ne'er stop worshipp... " and he too falls silent, though in his case it's because he has been hit in the face by a double-fisted blow from his partner's bound hands.

The Magistrate gives a satisfied smile, "It seems that we have a confession."

"Orcus will feast on yer souls!  His army'll burn this dung heap to the ground!"

"Silence!  There is no terror in your threats.  Guards... gag them, lest they know magic.  We shall deliberate on their punishment."

Well, that just about does it.

Eilieen sighs.  Barring some madness from the magistrates, the men are finished.  She'll put in a word for a merciful death - none of this torment business - and leave it at that.

They could, she supposes, garner information, but the two men look likely to die before they give anything up due to persuasion of the verbal kind.  And she's not going to employ anything more...potent.

"I say we consecrate these toad-knockers anyway," Aarnr suggests to his companions as the pair manage to condemn themselves nicely, certain both that Orcus would find his soul rather unpalatable, and that after what happened to the palace, none of the inhabitants would mind if the rest of the city burned down.

Indeed, the thought of the undead army of the Prince of Undeath trying to fire anything is amusing, given the typical flammability of their dried and withered corpses and general clumsiness owed to damaged or missing body parts - most like they'd set themselves ablaze long before they got near this place !

Though, the idea of gagging someone is an interesting one.  His own preference is for the forcible removal of the tongue, which does tend to limit options regarding the answering of questions thereafter ...

Erista somewhat uncomfortably resists a guilty look towards the charred remains of the castle at the prisoner's threat, trying to think what, exactly, Orcus's army would find left to burn.  The inn, she supposes, but probably even armies of evil gods like a drink at the end of a hard day's pillage, so that seems a foolish plan.

The deliberation is short, and the result apparently unanimous.  The prisoners have, after all, confessed their misdeeds.  They are to be taken out to the edge of the forest, close to the road that runs east from there.  There they will be hanged.  Once dead, they will be beheaded.  Their bodies will be burned, and their heads affixed to planks bearing the symbols of Freya and Muir and an account of their crimes.

These boards will then be planted upright in the earth beside the road, so that all who pass by can see that demon worshippers are not welcome in Crossroad.

The pair are to be left bound and gagged until they are both dead.

At this point Anja interrupts the pronouncement.  "Don't forget the other matter that we spoke of."

There is a brief moment of confusion, then, "Oh yes...  Travellers, we are grateful for the assistance you have given here.  You may select one prisoner, who will be briefly ungagged, though he will remain bound, that you might question him regarding those matters which pertain to your own investigation."

The priest is quite delighted by the outcome, though he'd rather have been afforded the opportunity to simply cut down the pair of demon-worshippers in battle ... though against him, that could scarcely be considered a fair fight.

Consecration, on the other hand seems to be quite an involved ceremony, what with the hanging and beheading and burning and nailing of heads to planks.  Very civilised to go to all that effort.

However, given the commendable if misguided lack of fear that they have shown, he sees little point in questioning them further.  Might as well get right on with it.  Even if burning of their corpses is more than they deserve, he now appreciates that will prevent their souls going to Orcus, so is a necessary evil.

All in all, the visit to Crossroads was most instructive !

Aarnr shrugs, leaving it to his friends to put what questions they will.

Shaking her head, Eilieen moves up to where the two prisoners sit.  Considering, she points to the one with the bruised features.  Well, bruised by his compatriot's fists.  "This one...unless one of my friends has a different opinion?"

Aarnr generally has a different opinion, or is bloody-minded enough to go out and get one if there isn't one handy ... but in this instance, he can't fault Eilieen's choice in picking the one who's got the most interesting injuries.

Colwyn simply nods.  The man selected by Eilieen is certainly the less intelligent of the pair, and should be easy enough to trick into answering any questions, while Aarnr has already ensured that any answers he gives will be honest ones.  The trick will be making certain that he survives to answer them.

"'ere, it might be bein' a good idea ter move that there other cove away, so's 'e can't be beatin' 'is mate senseless ter stop 'im peelin' the turnips."

At a gesture from the lead magistrate, a quartet of guards gag the more cunning of the two cultists and drag him away from the area that serves as a makeshift court of justice.  The other mason looks about nervously, perhaps realising that he is now truly alone.

The magistrate clears his throat, and then speaks, "The prisoner is yours, at least for a little while.  Question him as you will, but do not harm him."