Renard nods along as Kuldar speaks and then, realizing that Temnir probably can't see him, adds, "I didn't even think of it like that.  If we can explain ourselves to this king, however, and see if we can get someone to check with the townsfolk who saw the fight, we might stand a fair chance of winning free of this still.  In all honesty I would rather walk out of here free and clear rather than break out and deal with being a fugitive.  If it comes to a choice between the latter and death, however... well, I think we all share the same opinion on that matter."  He looked to the others at that last part, as if for confirmation, though he already knew their answers.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 20:24, Thu 24 Jan 2013.

Solomon was torn.  He respected law and justice, yet here he was, wrongfully imprisoned for aiding this town.  Something corrupt lingered in the minds of the men that ruled here.  Something more subtle than the beast they had recently slain in the street.  Would the truth be enough to set them free?  He doubted it.  So where did that leave the desert Paladin.  He prayed silently for answers.  Unfortunately, only Temnir's voice answered, and it answered with more questions.

"Well that sounds like a resounding 'Temnir please get me the hell out of this birdcage' to me. Now let's see what I can do about that. A little fire here and a little- hey, who in the hell are yo-" and suddenly the mental link connecting Temnir to the rest of the group vanishes. Quickly after the link goes dead, the group can hear a soft thud back where Temnir had been hiding, soft enough that it was probably only heard by those that were listening for it. Indeed, none of the guards seem to have turned in the direction at all.

Avianna grimaced as she stared down at the hooded man's inert form. "Sorry, but we don't have much time," she whispered, though it was unlikely that he could hear her in his current state. It was unfortunate that the man had spotted her, though, ultimately, he offered little resistance before the pommel of her blade connected with his temple. An unfortunate but necessary act, as she could not afford to create further commotion that might attract attentions from the guards that stood only meters away.

Initially, Avianna had hoped to remain unnoticed as she waited to see what the man would do. Having followed the group of strangers as they first entered the city, she was very much aware of the predicament they have now found themselves under. The way that they were unfairly arrested by the city guards did not surprise her, though she could not simply stand aside and let it slide by. No one should suffer from the corruption that plagued the majority of those who governed this city, even if they were mere passerby. Although, judging by the actions she had witnessed earlier, she knew that there was more to the group than being simple travelers.

As such, Avianna had followed the group, disguised as a guard, as they were escorted through to the 'other side' when she noticed a shadow that also followed the group. Intrigued, she had abandoned her initial pursuit and decided to follow the shadow instead as he followed the group, slipping through the fortified wall as he did. The game had been quite entertaining, shadowing a shadow that was competent enough to pass by the tight defenses of the city. A thought had even crossed her mind that, perhaps, her assistance was never needed.

Unfortunately, after the fire distracted the guards, Avianna could not seem to discern any further action from the man. He seemed to simply crouch silently by a bush outside the gate of The Guesthouse and waited. She could not think of what else the man had in mind and patience was never a virtue she possessed in abundance. Finally, the man's seemingly lack of action irritated her enough that she decided to simply take matters into her own hands.

Making sure that the stranger's crumpled form was hidden sufficiently by the thick foliage, Avianna looked up at the tall, opulent building inside the compound. Surely these people knew that they were little more than prisoners, despite the lavish establishment they found themselves in. Or had they naively assumed that the king would give a fair, unbiased trial when he had so easily turned a blind eye on the sufferings of his own people.

The urgency of the situation weighing heavily on her mind, Avianna shifted her gaze back towards the guards, to ensure that they were still preoccupied, while she stood up from her hidden position and wave wildly, gesturing for the group to make their escape while they had the opportunity to do so.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:01, Mon 28 Jan 2013.

The sound of the commotion draws Renard outside again.  After initially looking in the direction of the fire and then noticing how the guards are distracted by it, Renard sees something out of the corner of his eye, a shadowy figure waving to them from a bush near the fence at the back of the building.  He points for the benefit of his cohorts, "Look, that must be Temnir.  Everybody gather your things and let's be gone from this place!"  With most of his own possessions held by the guards he didn't have much to worry him as he hurried to the fence.  He wasn't much of a climber and those "decorative" spearheads at the top looked dangerous.  He looked to his companions for advice, "What do you think?  Should we climb or do we have any magical means of conveying us past these bars?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:35, Wed 30 Jan 2013.

Solomon was concerned about what the situation would be once they managed to escape...if they managed it.  Would he be willing to kill to escape?  All of this was just a misunderstanding.  A misunderstanding he felt he could clear up if the mind of the king wasn't too corrupted by evil.

In truth, Solomon didn't seem to keen on escaping.  He stood there as if simply waiting to be told what to do, or for the others to come to their senses.

Skraag stands rather quietly near Solomon. The little Dragon was not sure what the humans where planning or why. They killed a monster that was killing people. Why should they be in any trouble?

The fear of being seen by the guard and the uncertainty that the group would even notice her caused Avianna to question her action. Looking at the steel fence, she was wondering whether she should try and climb over when the silhouette of a man came out of the house and walked straight at her. Fearing that she had indeed been caught by one of the guards, she quickly duck back under the cover, eyes straining as she looked up to see whether she could be seen where she was, until his visage came to view as he approached the fence. Memories flashed through her mind as she recognised the man as the one who was smart enough to hold on tightly to his coin pouch as he passed the streets.

Relieved, Avianna stood back out of her meager hiding place and scanned the courtyard to see if any of his companions followed. Unfortunately, to her distress, not only was he the only one to have come but a crashing sound followed not long after while a face appeared near the broken window and began to talk, though she could not make out what due to their distance. That was the least of their problem, however, as the sound attracted a few of the guards attention back to the house.

Cursing hotly underneath her breath, Avianna turned to the man who now stood in front of her and quickly muttered, "Look, I know that it may sound strange and suspicious but I am here to help. I was going to try and unlock the gate for you but looks like your friend has alerted the guards instead. If they come to you, tell them you saw someone climb over the fence. Create some story that make them want to open this gate themselves. I'll try and keep it open when they do." She stood out in the open for a moment longer to see his reaction while keeping tab of the guards in the background, her mind racing for a way to get out of this predicament.

Renard was rather concerned when he turned around to find that not a one of his companions had followed him outside to see what the commotion was.  When the woman spoke and he finally realized it wasn't Temnir hiding in the shadows he was absolutely full of questions, but he knew now was not the place or the time, "I.. need to speak to the others.  Give me some time and if the guards open the gate do whatever you can.  I can't guarantee the others will follow me on this, especially since the guards have all our weapons stashed away somewhere."

He shrugs and lingers for a moment before continuing, "You might actually be able to help us another way - a way that will get us out of here legally and with our possessions returned to us."  The chains that hang about Renard's neck rattle menacingly at the word 'possessions' because Jeeves the poltergeist has the worst sense of humor, "If you can get the townspeople to vouch for us we might be able to convince the King or anyone else important that we've done their city a favor.  Talk to Sven at Daruin's Last Resort, see if he can locate anyone else that was there for the fight and see if you can convince them to talk to the guards about us.  If it takes a little coin to convince them I'm sure we'd be willing to pay you back and then some.  What do you think?"

OOC - However you reply, Avianna, afterwards Renard will head inside and relay to the others whichever plan you think is best.

Kuldar got worried when Temnir's spell or concentration had been lost, the appearance of another figure didn't calm him much but...for some reason he got the feeling they were here to help. "What in the blazes..." He mutters under his breath while approaching the window and peering outside at Renard and some figure. He didn't know how long the guards were going to stand around lazily, so Kuldar sighed and walked to a position where they could hear him.

Kuldar embellishes some quick story about seeing a shadow lurking around off in the distance, implying that something like that was right in their job description. He kept an eye on Renard wondering what was going on out there.

16:08, Tue 29 Jan: Kuldar Balak rolled 42 using 1d20+22. Bluff.
Reusing this since I deleted my last post and edited it into this one? If not then I'll reroll.

The guards look at one another, then to Kuldar, then back to each other before one nods to the other, "Best t' check just in case. Go see if you can spot what Mr. Dwarf is talking about. Could be somethin t' do with the fire after all. We catch whoever did that, sure as salt we'll get a promotion. I'll keep watch until you return but make it quick, no use for anyone else gettin our promotion." While not wholly effective in getting rid of their captors, it did lessen the amount of attention they would draw if any escape plans were to go awry as the second guard trots off into the darkness after the imaginary figure.

Meanwhile, Temnir lets out a soft groan as he begins to stir from his place prone in the bushes but doesn't fully gain consciousness yet.

It was as she feared. These strangers believed in the just and fairness of the King's judgement that no longer existed. The only laws left in this city were the ones that the guards and their General Hovan deemed important enough to uphold. Somehow, she doubted that protecting simple travellers were one of them. As much as Avianna would like to stay and enlighten the group to the folly of their plight, she seemed to have used up all the time they had as one of the guards she had kept her eyes on began to make his way towards the gate. So, instead, she replied simply, "I hope, for your sake, that Lantrest will be present during your hearing. Hovan is... Well, you've met him. I'll do what I can with the witnesses." She had no heart to tell the man that coins would likely do naught compared to their fear of the Rat Cellar that would surely become the destination for those who dare defy the General publicly.

A soft groan that followed her speech reminded her of the shadow she had followed to this very spot. He seemed to have regained consciousness at the most inopportune of time. She should've struck harder. There was no point in lamenting the decision, however. So, with a parting nod to the man behind the gate, Avianna crouched back underneath the conveniently placed bush. Once she located Temnir's barely moving form, she pressed one hand against his mouth before he could alert the guard to their whereabouts with his groaning while her other hand unsheathed one of the swords hanging from her waist. Keeping the blade pointed downwards, she pressed a finger against her lips as a sign for the man to keep his silence. Hopefully, she hadn't also knocked the common sense out of him.

Returning to his friends inside Renard relays the details of what happened, leaving nothing out, "There's a woman out by the gate who wants to help us out of here.  I'm not sure if she's with Temnir or what but she suggested breaking out.  I asked if, instead, she would gather the townsfolk who saw us kill the beast and have them proclaim the truth of our deeds to the captain."  He sighs and scratches his head a bit as Jeeves rattles at his chains like a petulant child, "I suppose you're right, Solomon, I'd rather walk out of here free and clear with all of my belongings intact if that is at all a possibility.  We may end up paying a pretty penny in order to see it done, though.  If you would all prefer I might still be able to catch her in time to have her bust us out.  She claims it would be as simple as getting the guards to open the gate and then holding it open after them..." he leaves the statement open-ended, wanting to hear the others' thoughts on the matter.

Solomon nods.  "I would rather not be forced to flee the city like a common crook.  Pelor has granted me a divine gift that would cause all nearby to speak true.  If it turns out the king and his men are not interested in justice, and I sense evil in their souls, then may the gods help them.  If you see this stranger again tonight.  You may want to have her locate our weapons, and retreive them for us if possible.  Fore tomorrow, King and General will have to choose their fates."

Solomon makes himself comfortable at a table.  "I don't suppose any of you are gifted with the ability to fix enchanted armor?"  He asked, turning the magical broach over in his hands.

Kuldar looked back toward the outside then to Solomon gesturing at the door as if to ask 'Seriously?', before sighing and moving to take a seat opposite. "Sadly I be the one Dwarf who never really picked up metalworking, if we had a scroll or wand of a certain spell(Make Whole) I could help ya there." Kuldar seemed ready to wait this out, despite every fiber of his being saying to get his fine beard out of there.

Renard steps over to the table to look at the brooch in Solomon's hands, "I've got some minor ability there, actually.  May I see that?"  He holds his hand out slightly, waiting for Solomon to hand him the item.  He doesn't actually need to touch it to cast the mending cantrip but it would be rude to do so while the object is in someone else's hands.

OOC - Since mending is a cantrip I'll just cast it a couple of times until the brooch looks like it's completely restored and then I'll hand it back.

With their minds seemingly made up, if not a bit grudgingly from some members, the group settles down to wait for their trial with the King in the morning as the guard Kuldar had fooled into moving away from the gate returned wit ha shrug to his fellow guard. In time, the fire outside the gate was squelched and a semblance of order seemed to have returned to the city, if any was actually present at all and not just a facade of some sort. Some members of the group get a couple hours of rest while others pace anxiously and rehearse what they want to get across to the King during their meeting, fretting that whatever evil possessed this place had seeped into his mind as well.

As promised, as the sun rose behind the seemingly permanent cover of the dark clouds, barely casting any light on the city at all, a small contingent of guardsmen arrived at The Guest House, a few of them lugging along the group's belongings, noticeably absent their weapons. Also absent was one General Hovan. In his place, another officer of a much greener nature who fidgets uncomfortably with his helmet when he believes the others aren't looking. "Give them back their gear and get them ready to stand before the King," he barks overly aggressively to one of his subordinates. Stalking over to the group who by now had come outside of the house to see what was to happen, he looks them up and down as a whole, disgust plainly showing on his face. "Such filth before the King. Hopefully you'll at least remember what shreds of manners your whores of mothers taught you or you'll find your heads misplaced from your shoulders faster than you can blink. Not that you're likely to keep them anyway after what I've heard you're being charged with." A smile that reflects no joy cracks the mans face in two as he turns crosses his arms and makes way for the guards carrying the groups supplies. "Get ready quickly. Your trial begins in half an hour."

(OOC: Forgot that I hadn't actually submitted this back when I was writing it. Whoops! Feel free to offer a retort to the captain if you desire. I just don't have time to finish the update tonight so I figured I'd give you what I had already done. Will get the second half of this post up when I wake up.)

Finally having taken enough abuse from these city humans with there overstuffed sense of self worth, Skraag takes a step forward from his usual place near Solomon. Filled with righteous anger he spreads his wings and puffs himself up to most imposing stature and dreesses down the new officer, "Dumb provincial lout! You think your position in this city makes you special! You are so ignorant of the real world you don't even recognize that you stand in the awesome presence of a Dragon! Dragons don't have to bother with lying like your kind! We are all of us innocent of breaking your laws! Now show me and mine the proper respect or I'll turn you into a cinder for you impertinence!"

OOC:
07:52, Today: Skraag rolled 33 using 1d20+14. Intimidate.

With a pompous laugh, the captain tries to dismiss Skraag's attempt to intimidate him though the quivering in his voice belies his fear that Skraag might just be able to carry out the threat, "Save your breath lizard. I have no doubt it's that murderous temper that got you into this position in the first place! Enough wasting time, we leave for the palace now." The last line was said hurriedly and without making eye contact, one hand wiping away sweat that had begun to form on his brow. Turning on his heel, he motions his troops who have since surrounded the group forward and they begin to walking, poking those who are slow to start moving their feet with the butts of their weapons to get them going. In the dim light that began to spread through the city like a lamp seen through thick fog, the giant silhouette of the Burovan Castle emerges from the darkness. It is clear that the influence of the city's architecture was quite militaristic as the first thing the group reaches is yet another wall surrounding the top of the Hochburg where the castle sits. Again the group passes through with a quick search of the party members and a visual glance over the guards accompanying them by men dressed in sets of armor whose purpose was obviously for show rather than practical fighting; the honor guard perhaps if honor was still a word that could be applied to anyone with a shred of power in the city.

Once inside the gates, the group enters the castle through a small entryway in the side of the main building that leads through a stone passageway flanked by lit torches. The halls are mostly barren and the reason becomes somewhat clear as the path leads them to what looks like a waiting room with a handful of wooden tables and benches and not much else. This seemed to be the entrance for those who had gained audience with the King or his council and where they would wait for their turn at justice. It seemed they were not alone this morning as a handful of others were sitting at the tables. Two of them, men, sat under watch of another, smaller, group of guards while three more, a man, a woman, and a little girl sat at a table in the corner unattended, hopeful looks being shared between them.

"Sit here and wait your turn. When you are called, you will rise and enter the Hall of Scales and your trial will begin. Oh, and if you value your head, you may want to bow to the King." The demeanor of the captain was quite different than his original one when he had first presented himself to the group, now almost pandering to them though if it was the result of Skraag's threats or not was hard to tell. The guards who were left to look over them who kept their distance near the others who had previously been present was a definite indication of the little dragon's effectiveness though, leaving the group free to sit where they would.

(Any last minute plans for how to deal with the King or if you want to try and strike up conversation with anyone in the room should be done now. If there seems to be no interest in either, I will move us forward soon)

As curious as Renard is about the other people waiting to be taken to the Hall of Scales he instead sits near the guards, listening to their idle chatter to see if he can figure out which one is the most amenable.  Should he discover one such, or if they all seem equally aloof, he will approach slowly and ask, "Would it be possible for us to see the others' trials first before our own turn comes up?  Maybe just one?  I have a great interest in these sorts of things and it is my first time in Burova."  This was entirely a lie on his part, but the guard knew little enough about him to judge him on that it might just be believable.  He simply wanted to see the process in action so that they might better formulate their defense.

Or to make sure they weren't headed straight for a chopping block...

(Roll: 13:05, Today: Renard Waywynd rolled 23 using 1d20+5. Diplomacy. )
This message was last edited by the player at 21:07, Mon 11 Feb 2013.

Solomon remained quiet and followed the guards' instructions.  He constantly used his ability to detect evil, on everyone they came across.  If good existed than he was sure justice would prevail.  If not, then he was likely going to have to fight his way out.  He watched to see who carried weapons and who didn't.  He even hoped he would spy Pelor's Thumb, but thought it doubtful.

As most of the group takes a seat or stands near the others to await their audience, Renard and Solomon work on their respective  plans. As Renard takes a seat near the group of guards, he finds that the chatter between then, the little that there is, is mostly directed toward the events of last night, both the thing that landed the group in this situation to begin with as well as the mysterious fire the night before that had distracted the guards. At his approach, the former gets dropped from the conversation and soon, so does the latter, replaced by stares in his direction that are a combination of accusation, disgust, curiosity, and even a little fear at the unknown. With the attention suddenly on him anyway, he speaks up. "Would it be possible for us to see the others' trials first before our own turn comes up?  Maybe just one?  I have a great interest in these sorts of things and it is my first time in Burova."

One of the guards that had been stationed in the room already upon their arrival spoke up in a deep voice which was unexpectedly smooth in nature, like a stone washed smooth by a stream over years; a stark contrast to the man's dark, scarred skin. "Not sure the good general would like that too much but I don't see what harm a peek would do. I can tell you're not from around here and I don't want you to offend the King after all. Perhaps you'll learn something." The guard leads Renard to the door opposite where they entered and cracks it enough to see through slightly. Nodding to Renard, he says quietly, "Don't let em see you watchin or it'll come down on both of us."

The show of kindness, or at least acquiescence, wasn't something expected in a city that had, since their arrival, been singularly unpleasant and ruthless in it's demeanor towards everyone who merely looked at someone wrong. As Solomon scanned the room with his divine gift to detect the hearts of men, it served to challenge his assumption that every person that worked for the King was evil. In fact, out of the four guards in the room, only one seemed to have a questionable heart, and even then, it wasn't very strong to say the least. Neither were those assembled at the table over on the other side of the room tainted with the veil of evil though the other prisoner was. Perhaps it was possible that the entire city was not evil but instead just overseen by an iron fist of corruption. That idea would have to wait for their audience with that fist.

In the meantime though, Renard was getting a bit of a preview of what Burova's council system looked like. It was a long hall inside full of exquisite, if not a tad militaristic and dark, ornamentation. Portraits of great battles and shining heroes flanked the walls between complexly-wrought iron braziers which gave the hall it's light. The flickering made it seem as if the shadows of the room had a life of their own, moving around far more than the inhabitants of the hall itself. Standing with eyes lowered in the middle of a circular fresco on the floor, the judged was silent as a rater monotonous voice read off the list of crimes that the man was being accused of; the least among them being conspiracy to overthrow the empire, a harsh claim though one the man did not seem to be disputing.


The man with the monotone voice stood on the side of the room with a large scroll that he was reading from and immediately, Renard was able to peg him as a spellcaster of some descript. It wasn't anything magical about the man but the dark red robes, staff leaning against the wall behind him, large tome chained to his side, and the small rodent familiar on his shoulder all spoke for themselves. "Thank you Rortie, that will be all. I feel we have enough evidence against this man to come to a resolution." The man who had spoken was none other than the King of Burova himself, a man of sturdy build, a warrior himself likely, garbed in a phenomenally flashy crimson red cloak that rested over his broad shoulders, framing the shining silver chain armor he wore underneath a golden shirt and leggings. The man's face was angular and hard, with the expression of a thundercloud. Dark brown hair with grey encroaching at the temples and throughout his beard placed him likely in his fifties though his physique would say otherwise. No crown adorned the man's head, instead a golden headband with a single ruby inset in the front rested on his forehead, the crown of a warrior-king. In his lap rested a sword truly fit for a king; a gleaming longsword with golden filigree along it's length with a large cross guard with red rubies the size of eggs on both ends and on the pommel. It was difficult to make out from this far away, but there also seemed to be something etched onto the flat of the blade. This seemed to be a man who would take to the battlefield without reservation, leading his own troops not from a command tent, but from the front lines.

"Your majesty..." The mage named Rortie bowed slightly and stood back against the wall fully, taking hold of his staff once again and fetching a small cracker from a pocket to feed to the rodent. Unconsciously fingering a pendant around his neck, the mage watched the proceedings in quiet though his eyes spoke of an analytical mind and great ambition. Surely to become the court scribe, or wizard, or magical advisor, whatever role the man played, had taken years of hard work and politicking. He was hardly the only person present besides the King and the accused though. In fact, the good General Hovan stood to the left of the King's dias, hangs clasped in front of him, boring holes into the accused's head with his gaze. No wonder the man's head was lowered.

"Evelyn, General Hovan, what are your thoughts on this man?" the King spoke without taking his eyes from the man in the center of the room.

"Guilty, sire. Obviously. We've been hunting these damned rats for months now and still they keep popping up from their sewers and dung heaps they call home to bite at our heels. Where else better to keep a rat but the Rat Cellars?" This advice came from the cultured General Hovan who spoke without reservation or hesitation to condemn this man to imprisonment and likely a slow and miserable death. It was the voice that spoke after him though that seemed out of place in a room full of executioners.

"If I may suggest, Lucort, consider this: Condemning this man will end his involvement in Der Leichentuchschutz but it will only serve to inflame the rest of the Shroud Guard into further action.  Would it not be best to come to some mediation that would see a resolution between us rather than further bloodshed? We already know the extent that their leader is willing to push them to and I fear it will only get worse the more that we threaten them. We need a parlay with them and letting this man free may be a way to show them we are capable of a gesture of good faith." The soft but commanding voice of a woman echoed off the walls of the hall as a beautiful woman, the likes of which Renard had never seen, stepped forward from behind the throne and stood as the King's right hand. Long, wavy crimson hair flowed down from her head, her face radiant in the firelight, seeming to emit its own illumination. Dressed in a long red dress absent of the colored gems the rest of the hall seemed to display, her simplicity was her strength and beauty. As she finished and the King began to speak, her gaze drifted past the man in the center of the room toward the door where her light brown eyes locked onto Renard's with a hint of surprise and curiosity.

From behind Renard, that same voice rang out somewhere that seemed a thousand miles away though the hand on his shoulder was very much present. "Best not to push your luck, son. You've seen what the Hall of Scales holds and you'll get to see more soon enough, I reckon. Now go join your comrades and wait for your turn before we both end up in the Rat Cellars." With a sympathetic grin, the guard closes the door and ushers Renard back into the room to face the others.

Renard leaves his spying spot with a minimum of resistance, straining his ears to hear as much as he can as he is led away by the oddly ambivalent guard.  When he returns to the rest of the group he relays as much information about the Hall of Scales and its occupants as he remembers, including what was said between the King and his two advisors.  It was most unfortunate that they were facing off against Hovan, who seemed to have already decided upon their guilt.  He held little hope that the stranger at the gate would come through for them, though he certainly couldn't help the strange feeling that she would be trying her best despite not truly knowing anything about them.

Skraag moves from the others for a moments as they wait their turn and mutters to himself, casting a spell.


OOC: Cast "Mage Armor", +4 AC for 7 hours.

One after another, the rest of those waiting for an audience with the King, either by desire or by force, leave the waiting room and enter into The Hall of Scales. The prisoner never returns though the family reenters the room just as the group is being ushered up out of their seats, looking somewhat disheartened but also somehow content as if they only got part of what they wanted or at a price they had hoped to avoid. It was finally their time to find out for themselves if it was indeed the hierarchy that was corrupting the city from within and, with any luck, they would be able to find out how to stop it and leave with their heads still attached to their bodies.

As when the other prisoner entered the hall, guards accompanied the group as the entered though, in their case, all four entered instead of just one as was the case with the other man. As they reached the same circular area that Renard had seen the other man who was receiving judgement standing on, the four guards spread out around them, none staying within the circle themselves. Solomon had been making sure to keep his divinely granted vision active as they entered in order to judge those in attendance with the King as well as the King himself. What he had not expected as the royal court that had previously been in the wings of the room to be roaming around the room in front of the dias, the chatter among them loud and proper, most of it political maneuvering with each other and pandering to the King who was only able to be seen in fleeting moments. Luckily for Solomon, he had years of practice in detecting evil and he was able to lock his eyes on both the court wizard Rortie and King Vanderdaat himself. To his surprise, neither radiated evil though there were a few in the court that had the telltale red glow around them. They were nobody he recognized, a sea of nondescript faces, but he felt as if each one of those outlined in red would shoot knowing glares his way the moment he looked away, only to be talking cheerfully to another as soon as he looked back.

"The last group has arrived, your highness," Rortie announces dryly to the King, all the while moving his glance between Skraag, Kuldar, and Solomon, seemingly skipping over Renard as the members of the court make their way to the sides of the room once again, leaving only the King, General Hovan, and Lady Evelyn standing on the dias. Quickly reaching into his robes, Rortie takes a handful of what looks like iron dust and blows it towards the group where it disappears into the air. Almost immediately, Solomon's detection of evil vanishes, Skraag's magical armor is no more, and Kuldar feels reasonably less influential as his glibness vanishes. "Spellcasters. At least three, though I suspect all of them have some measure of ability. The proper precautions have been taken, your highness." King Vanderdaat raises an eyebrow as he examines the group, leaning back in his throne and giving a noncommittal grunt and a wave of a hand at Rortie to continue.

The wizard leans down, causing his rat familiar to grasp onto his robes to keep from falling off, and grabs one of the scrolls stacked on a small table before unfurling it and clearing his throat. "The accused that stand before you are hereby accused of the following crimes against the crown in ascending order of severity: Public indecency, public disturbance, threatening a city official, arson, and the murder of Lord Abelard Erland. How do the accused plead?"