Magnus's relieved expression fell as he beheld Daneel. "Ooooh...my friend, I hate to tell ya', but you're not lookin' your best." he came over to stand by the bedside, although he was at a loss of what to actually do with the Smith. YEt another moment in which he remembered the days in which the Mages figured all this stuff out.

"But I have good news, I think we're close to solvin' your problem" he managed a faint smile of encouragement, not wanting to let on his fears. "Let me brew you up another pot of tea and fix you up somethin' to eat real quick, then I need to head out for a bit."

As Magnus was trying to make Daneel more comfortable, his mind was ablaze. Would the curse cease once Nicolai was dead? Was there something in his effects over at the White Heart that would give some clue to his condition? Or had he truly been played for a fool by the Magistrate?

Tea, food and encouragement delivered, Magnus made his way with a purpose towards the White Heart in order to let the proprietor know what had happened with Nicolai, and to collect any evidence he might find.

Instantly cued to Daneel's worsening condition, Magnus brews a pot of tea and prepares a meal, bringing it to the bed where he sits Daneel up in a position to eat.  Daneel, however, does not make it far, a few sips of tea and a bite or two before he smiles weakly and begins to lay back down.

"Thank you...  but I think a bit of rest...  should do it."

Magnus notes that the man is feverish and agrees that sleep is perhaps his best option, though he leaves the tea and the meal out for Daneel in case he changes his mind while Magnus is away.

Then Magnus makes his way back to the White Heart.  Though he is nearly certain the mob has disbanded by now, he makes his way warily along the streets, keeping to the side roads while he can to be sure he does not attract any more attention than is needed.

"Feel free."  William Howell growls as Magnus asks to search the room.  "Murderer he was... was staying here all along.  Hope he burns, killing all those innocent people."

The man flips Magnus the key to the room and Magnus makes his way, opening the door.

It seemed the girl had cleaned his room, though it's hard to imagine how badly astray it had really been, for there seems to be few possessions in the room to speak of.  The inn furniture includes a wood pallet bed, a small bedside table, and an oil lamp hung on the wall.  The blankets of the bed are made up, and the only thing of note is a small sack on the table which Magnus makes quick work going through.  It contains only a few articles of dirty clothing, a tin cup and small knife, a waterskin, a flint and a small bit of thin line...

OOC:  Sorry for the stagnation on my part.  Despite being home without the fam, I've managed to find entirely too many things to take up my time.  I'm headed out tomorrow, and may get a chance to post here and there, but I'm not really counting on it.  Worst case should be two weeks though where I'm down without posting.

Magnus pawed through the scant belongings, his stature seeming to fill the little room where his foe had been staying for some time.

The findings were...disappointing. He had hoped to find things of an obviously magical nature, maybe even letters, a diary, something that he could link to what Daneel was suffering from. But he had been naive of course. He did not keep a diary himself, why would his enemy?

The Minotaur let out a soft sigh as he set the belongings aside.

He had two courses of action that came to mind.

The first was to seek out protection, or a cure, from some third party. Even if Nicolai was captured an executed there was no guarantee that the curse would die with him. But who could he find in the city that he could trust? The risk of running into some kind of swindler was high.

The second was to look into Nicolai's fate himself. If he had been executed, he may have had something on his body that would explain Daneel's condition. But with his problem solved, why would the Magistrate deal with him at all now? In fact there was a chance that the Magistrate might fret about tying up loose ends, and that would be a whole other kettle of fish...

All this trouble for a helmet...but a decent man now lay sick as a dog an unable to work his trade, and while Magnus was not responsible for that, he had come so far.

Then, on second thought, Magnus held up the line to the light. There were a few fairy tales about knots and string. Perhaps some of them rang true? There was also the maid to consider. Maybe she had wandered off with a few of the mans possessions that he could offer to buy?

Evidence.

It seemed this small bit of a hotel room was devoid of it.  All that was there were the few meager possessions of a wanderer.

It would have been so much more convenient if the man kept a diary with the gruesome details of all his magical misdeeds, it would have been easier to simply put the man to death and have this all over with.

Of course, the Magistrate may not need evidence at all.  He already knew the man was guilty and Mother Alice had said he could be quite vindictive.  But...  If the Magistrate already knew the man was guilty, why in the world would he ask Magnus to murder him in cold blood rather than simply arrest him in the first place?

Magnus grates his teeth against the thought, and holds up the line to the cloud-darkened light which comes in through the room window.  He had seen Judoc recognize magic items, or items that had been used for magic through a simple touch.  It was how they had recognized the ancient mace found in the belly of the dead mega lizard outside Perdition.  How he had done it though, was something that escaped Magnus entirely.

He turns the line again and for a moment the whole thin piece seems to disappear into a halo cast by the incoming light.  For the briefest of moments, Magnus thinks he has an answer until he realizes it was a simple trick of the shadows.  Frustrated, Magnus puts the line down, realizing even if the thing was magical, he'd likely never know unless he stumbled on some magical code or spell...  An even unlikelier scenario given how resistant his kind was to using magic...

OOC:  Ok, we're back at it.  You find nothing abnormal with the piece of line despite the momentary trick of the light which you recognize after the fact and can repeat by holding it up to the window and focusing your eyes the right way.

Feel free to further your search into either of the avenues you suggested.  The module's a little different than the setting we have here, but you can seek out a religious or a magical solution to the curse, and you would expect that Nicolai is being held in the same cells you have already visited a few times.

"Well damn..."

Magnus said to himself as he pocketed the items. Not quite a dead end, but not the solution he had hoped for.

His main priority was making sure Daneel pulled through. Not only did he seem like a really decent human being that deserved some relief, but he was also the whole reason Magnus had made this long trip in the first place.

Conventional medicine was not the solution here, of that he was confident. As such he was either left with Father Litle, or potentially Alice. Father Litle was a priest, and Magnus felt he had built up some good will...if not with Father Litle himself then potentially with the Lord after having brought low two demons in his life.

But Alice was a self professed healer first and foremost, any suspicions Magnus held about her other activities would probably just be a bonus. And she seemed discreet.

So it was that Magnus hatched the plan to load Daneel into a wagon, if one could be found for the afternoon, to make him comfortable and to seek out Alice for treatment before he did anything else.

With Nicolai's room proving less than forthcoming, Magnus shifts tack, pocketing the few meager items and heading out of the White Heart to find a cart or a wagon to load up Daneel and bring him to Alice.  He wasn't sure what her herbs would be capable of... but at the very least, she would know more than Magnus about his condition, and potentially she had something to heal him entirely.

Without too much trouble, Magnus rents a cart that will be suitable for the task and lines the bed with a small bale of straw to absorb the shock of the cobbles.  Magnus returns to Angel Armory and finds Daneel in a fitful sleep with his meal still uneaten.

Magnus briefly tries to wake the man, though he quickly gives up on the task, instead he lifts the man out the door and into the cart.  Daneel is still hot to the touch, and his hair is slick with sweat.

Magnus presses on to Alice's, hitching his own mule to the cart.  Though Magnus worries about the bumps of the road, the trip is short and Daneel does not wake.

"You just keep showing..."  Alice pauses, and her tone shifts suddenly as she sees Magnus heft Daneel out of the cart.  "Bring him in."

Alice immediately opens the door wide, shuffling towards her shelf and pulling a few of the bottles of herbs.

"On the table there."  She points towards the dining table that seems just large enough for a man of Daneel's size.

As Magnus sets the man down, Alice grabs a blanket from among her stores.

"What happened to him?"  Alice asks as opens one of the jars.

"He's cursed, as far as I know" Magnus told the old woman urgently as he laid Daneel down, his own hands coming away glistening with Daneel's sweat. "That's what he told me anyway." he added as he wiped his hand on his pants, leaving dark smears on the fabric.

"There was a man out to get 'em, mean lookin' sort. Mage by the name of Nicolai. We had words in the street, and sure enough, the man sicked a demon on me. Right in broad daylight." Magnus shook his head as he walked around to help Alice. "Came out of thin air, and cut me up pretty good before I was able to put him down. I'm pretty sure the crowd mobbed Nicolai while I was runnin' away...it was two against one after all, and now it sounds like Nicolai's locked up for witchcraft." he explained as he took a rag and wiped off Daneel's brow to keep the sweat from his eyes.

As Magnus mentions the curse, Alice looks up from her jars, her eyes narrowed at Magnus, making the contrast between the one good one and the other with the black part of the pupil spreading out over the rest of her iris quite stark.  The stern look breaks within a moment however, as Alice sighs heavily and opens one of the jars.

"I told you...  I'm a midwife, not a witch."  She says, a bit defeated, though never the less she begins her ministrations.

She takes a heavy scoop of poultice out of the jar with a three-fingered swipe, and rubs the thick, green paste on his neck and collarbone as she tears away the shirt with a few strained motions and lifts his arms away from his chest.

"His fever's too high."  Alice says in way of an explanation as she collects a thick rag from a shelf and dunks it in a bucket of water.  "His body trying to purge something... and it's eating itself up from the inside in the meantime."

Alice takes the damp cloth and lays it across Daneel's forehead.  Magnus notices that the man has now begun to shiver.

Alice unstoppers a small vial, lifting Daneel's chin high as she pours the small portion of liquid in his mouth.  "There we go."

"I heard they caught the murderer...  If he were a witch and responsible for this," she gestures at Daneel, "then the only way to make him whole again is to break the curse...  Some can throw them off on their own, but he doesn't seem to be making too good a job of it.  Only two other ways.  Get your witch to lay off it or get someone stronger to break the magic...  If there even is anyone.  I'll do what I can with him, but I don't know that I can guarantee much more than giving him a bit more time."

Magnus listened, and his mental list of potential solutions narrowed rapidly. He was fresh out of Mages.

"I know, I know, you have my thanks...and that's why I came to you. Cause he's sick, and you're one of the only people I know in this town. I know he's good for it, and if he's not...well, I'll make sure you get paid before I leave town."

There was nothing for it but to either have Nicolai call off the curse, or to put him down for good. If he was due for execution anyway, it would need to be hurried up. And if he wasn't, well, Lord Alston risked much by keeping him alive.

But Magnus was under no illusion that he knew even most of what was really going on.

"Guess I'll need to track down the source then." Magnus moved to leave. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can."

Back out into the streets. Back out, not so much for justice... although Margerie almost certainly deserved some.

Back out to save Daneel, and to salvage what he could from the whole mess of a situation. He was tired, and his stab wound hurt, and the adrenaline had made him shaky in the legs. But the day was not over, not by a long shot.

And a man's life hung in the balance.

Magnus does not tarry long at Alice's with the knowledge that Nicolai's curse seems to have accelerated significantly in a singe day.  It all seemed to circle back towards Nicolai.  Despite this, Magnus knew there were other options.  He was not quite ready to go back to the prisons and to the guards who had certainly heard the story of the mob, that a minotaur had been involved in the morning, to whatever fate awaited him there.  Instead he makes his way towards the Magistrate's manor, looking for answers, or solutions... or frankly anything to spare Daneel's life for another day.

Magnus takes the back alleys, still nervous to spend too much time in the open if he can avoid it, though luckily he does not run in to additional trouble on his way to the manor.

There is trouble enough without finding it unawares...

Magnus is bidden to wait for a moment in the foyer by the butler while the man informs the master of the house.  It is not long, however, before he is shown back to the library again where the Magistrate sits crumpled upon an upholstered armchair, his face flushed and his movements lethargic.

"It's you."  The magistrate arcs the corners of his mouth in an attempt at a smile, though the expression only reminds Magnus of a man in pain.

"You failed I take it..."  Sir Alston says in a slow moan.  "It's no matter.  We all reap what we sew.  Fate comes for us all and I was a fool to think I could shake loose of its clutches."

It struck Magnus as he stood there, that despite his wealth, despite the mans power and office, that he was not necessarily "in the loop". The this mans problems with Daneel and Nicolai were still very private, and that he would probably not have been notified after every significant arrest. In some ways Sir Alston was just as lost as Magnus had been, or still was, in many ways.

"Well, yes and no..." Magnus easily matched the mans weary tone. It had been a very long couple of days. He approached the arm chair as he went on.

"We had words, briefly, in the street...and then out of nowhere he draws steel and sicks a demon on me. In broad daylight, in front of a small crowd." Magnus explained. "I drew off the demon, and killed it...as far as anything like that can be killed I guess." It was a less embarrassing way of saying that he had in fact ran away for his life, but that was besides the point.

"But while that was goin' on, word is Nicolai got mobbed and arrested...not sure on which charge, witchcraft or the murders, but rumor is he's behind bars. All he needs is a trial and a sentence, or however you folks handle that sort of thing.,," he paused for a long breath. "But...if it could happen quick, and I mean whatever strings you can pull...I'm concerned he's gonna turn his craft on one of us, talk to the wrong person, or just plain escape." he gave the Magistrate a knowing look. "I've worked with Mages before, an they're damned clever."

Magnus strategically left out just how critical Daneel's condition was. He knew Sir Alston hated the man, for whatever reason, and he did not want to give any more reason for the man to delay in hopes that his plot should finally succeed.

"Yes."  The Magistrate answers as Magnus suggests the rumors that Nicolai had been arrested.  He does not seem surprised, nor cheered by the information, but rather keeps his morose tone and does not even return Magnus's look.

"Yes, they are currently holding him in the prisons.  He is quite the worse for wear I hear.  The mob,  when he conjured that beast, they set upon him with vigor...  But he is alive."  Alston sighs, shaking his head.

"And that is my plight.  He is captured and shall receive the full weight of the law, but also its protections.  He will have his day in court, and certainly he will use it to expose me if I let things take their natural course.  He has already suggested as much to the guards.  And thus I have a choice:  either I stand firm in my beliefs and my profession - he goes to the gallows and I will be ruined by scandal, or I cave to his blackmail...  I arrange his release and that scoundrel goes unpunished."

Alston spits the word, his self pity briefly overtaken by disgust.

Magnus considered the problem for a few moments before he spoke. "Who's in charge of enforcing magical law?" He asked the troubled Magistrate. "I mean, if we can convince them that Nicolai's still a threat, even while he's locked up. That his curses are still hurting people. They would need to take action right away? Right? They couldn't just wait for trial because he's not a normal prisoner."

The Minotaur had no idea how any of that worked, but assumed that maybe the church had some sort of expert, if not the Imperial Court. But where did they live? And could they travel here quickly enough?

"I'm no Sheriff, but it would seem to me that keeping him from doing any more harm would be a pretty high priority right? It's basically an emergency."

Sir Alston Shakes his head.  "Magical Law is the same as mundane law...  Certainly there are exceptions... secrets ministries... agents clouded in magic and obscurity to face down threats to the empire... though I severely doubt Nicolai would qualify."

He looks at Magnus, then lays his head back on his chair's upholstery as he gazes towards the ceiling.

"Besides, Nicolai the only people Nicolai is close enough to hurt now are the guards.   They are under orders to protect themselves and their fellows if needed, though I doubt Nicolai is so stupid that he will hasten his own demise by attacking his keepers.  No...  His prize will be waiting...  waiting until his court date when he will tear my reputation asunder, he will tell of how I hired him...  how I was guiding his hand.  He will spin lies indecipherably with truth and I will be ruined by scandal...  Perhaps I will spend my own time decorating my prisons..."

Alston swallows heavily.

"I cannot stop him.  I cannot kill him myself, and I refuse to order my men to do it.  They do not deserve such a stain upon them, especially when they cannot possibly understand the threats he poses to society... and to me..."

Magnus sighed in turn. If only he had been able to come upon Nicolai unawares...but no, he had tried and that was over and done with. They were left with the consequences.

All I wanted was a helmet... he thought to himself. All of this, just for the privilege of being able to spent his hard earned coin on a little extra protection for his next job.

Magnus was running out of options. Thus far he had not mentioned Daneel, he had wanted to avoid getting tangled up in whatever had happened between these two men. He had wanted to avoid getting even more entangled than he already was. But what good would that do his if Daneel died and Magnus was left with nothing? A decent seeming man dead, Lord Alston ruined, and Magnus empty handed.

"Daneel is dying" Magnus suddenly said seriously. "I don't know him well, I just...I wanted him to make me some armor. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get somebody to make good armor for, well, somebody like me. That's the whole reason I came here, to Raphael." he admitted. "I heard he did good work" Magnus shrugged.

"I know somethin' happened between the three of you, and I believe you when you say that you didn't mean for it to get out of hand. But as of right now, after all the death and misery that has come out of this mess. Nicolai's guards aren't the only one in danger. Whatever curse he worked...it's still after him, and I'm not sure how much longer he can hold out." Magnus explained in his rough rural vernacular.

"So if you're tellin' me that there's nothin' official you can do...that Nicolai can sit in his cell, work his witchcraft and kill another man without any consequences. I don't know what to make of that." Magnus threw up his hands a few inches in a somewhat helpless gesture. "It would seem to me that there has to be somebody, somewhere in this city that can sign a paper or whatever, so I can go down there and put a stop to all this. Maybe at least go through his things, see if there is anything in there, somethin' magic that's keepin' this goin'." he felt himself grasping at any remote possibilities they might have left.

"He's dying..."  Alston repeats the words in an emotionless voice, sucked dry of sadness or surprise much like his motionless form still hanging from the upholstery of his chair.

The magistrate stays quiet for some time, though Magnus matches his silence and the tenseness of the moment draws out like a blade.

"I loved her."  The magistrate says finally, the weight of the words seeming to nearly crush the man.  "Margerie...  She was my joy.  When she...  When she...  At first I could not believe it.  I relieved our last moments together over and over.  I was so happy.  A child.  My child.  An heir.  Hadn't she been happy too?"

"But the truth came to me, unwanted as it was.  No.  She had not been."

"I asked myself why.  What had driven her to take her life?  For it was quickly becoming clear that was what had happened.  We had argued.  She had wanted to be wed.  She did not understand that being my wife would blow back scandal upon her as badly as it would on me...  She wanted to tell everyone I was the father of the baby...  Daneel was asking her...  Daneel would not let it drop...  I latched upon those words...  It allowed me to blame someone else."

Alston stops again, letting hit guilt slowly overwhelm the room.

"When Nicolai came, I had nothing but my anger left."  Alston lifts his head towards Magnus, the first movement he has made for some time.  "I won't pretend that this is all my fault, but he has used me as an excuse and he has hid within my shadow to accomplish his deeds.  I will stand for it no longer.  If he is still using his magics to kill..."  Alston grips the hand rests of the chair, pushing himself up roughly to a stand, "Then justice must be served as expediently as possible."

"Come."  He urges Magnus as he walks from the library, pausing only a moment to call to his servant, "Fetch the carriage."

OOC:  Rather than ask for a diplomacy roll this far after your post, I went ahead and rolled for you.  Needless to say, it went quite well.  I stopped here for any response on your part before we keep going, though no action is required if you just want to keep moving with the story.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:34, Wed 08 Sept 2021.

The revelation came like a wave of nausea.

A young girl falls into the arms of a wealthy and powerful man. Dreams of escaping drudgery, dreams of living in his fine house, or attending parties on his arm.

A man takes a lover, knowing he could not marry her, enjoying her company all the same. Perhaps he even really cared for her, or was it only now, after she was safely dead that he could speak the words aloud.

And a third party, not even really involved, just a man concerned for his apprentice, probably out of some paternal instinct or hidden affection. Wanting to make sure that she was alright, wanting her to make good choices.

Even if Margerie had been young and foolish, and even if Lord Alston had let his desires get the better of him, and even if Daneel had harbored any sort of feeling for Margerie himself. None of it really mattered, it was all so minor at the heart of it, and now, she was dead, Daneel was dying, and Lord Alston on the verge of ruin.

The devil really did know his craft.

It could all have fallen out a hundred different ways, but in this case, it was a bloody mess.

The misery of it all still hung over Magnus like a cloud as he followed Lord Alston, feeling the mans energy now, his desperate intentions. What could he do that he had not already done? They were about to find out, for better or ill.

Magnus had never really seen the inside of a carriage. He never would have dreamt that a prominent man would have dared to be seen with him in a carriage. But as the coach with its footman pulled up, the fine looking horses in their traces, the Minotaur allowed himself to bask for just a moment in the luxury. Not for itself, no, but just a warm little glow that allowed him to feel normal.

For a blissful little moment, he was not worried about a roving patrol of guards, or a pack of drunks staggering home. He was not conscious of the stares or the sound of his hooves on the cobblestones or the biting fleas. He drew a contented sigh, feeling that perhaps his time in Raphael was beginning to draw to a close. Hoping, hoping in a deep and real way that they could some how figure it all out, and that he would not have to see poor Daneel wasted and dead in Alices bed after so much effort, risk and injury.

Magnus walks along with Alston so far as the front of the manor, down the stairs and towards the loop where the two wait only for a moment while the carriage is called up.

Magnus is hesitant at first, for while he revels in the idea of riding in the carriage, it is hard to shake the feeling that the situation is wrong... that it is a trick or a bad joke.  That at any moment the Magistrate will clarify that the two of them will meet at the prisons whenever Magnus gets there.  But as the servants hold the door open and Alston steps towards the carriage, he makes the point entirely clear with a single word, "Come."

The ride to the prisons is mercifully short.  The conversation is non-existent, for Alston simply sits in his seat, his sadness hanging over him like a miasma as he starer out of the glass without so much as a glance towards the minotaur as they travel.  In Magnus's mind it is just as well, for while the carriage may have been built with even the largest of men in mind, it had not accounted for a large man with two-foot horns sticking out of his head.  Magnus finds after an initial moment of panic, that he can actually sit in the seat without slashing the wood of the roof, so long as he slouches his ass forward almost to the edge and tips his head forward and to the side nearly as far as it will go.  In truth, it is quite a blessing that Magnus can ignore any interaction, for he cannot imagine attempting a serious conversation with his body contorted as it is, like a rag doll thrown into a corner.

Before he knows it though, the two are back out of the carriage, and Magnus finds himself back at the prisons, this time with the Magistrate leading a few steps ahead of him.

"Alfard."  Alston says as he approaches the guard's desk.  "Our friend here has proof that the prisoner is still using his magic for ill... that another man's life is in the balance.  We are going in to question him.  There is no time."

The guard at the desk, Alfard, seems quite taken aback by the visit and nearly jumps to his feet as the Magistrate and Magnus approach.  However, he does not argue, instead gesturing towards the cells with an open palm as he grabs the keys and makes to walk ahead towards the cell.  "Yes, sir."

"We'll take them Alfard..."  Sir Richard stops the man, reaching instead for the keys on his own.  "I need you to stay back, make sure that he cannot escape if he bends his magicks against us."

"Yes sir."  Alfard responds dumbly as Alston beckons Magnus onward.

Ahead, in the cool darkness of the prisons, Magnus can make out a single form sitting haggard on the ground, his knees up and his face, back, and arms rolled forward against his legs.  A pale, bald head reflects what little afternoon light comes in through the small, high window.

"You'd better go first."  Alston says simply, pausing for a moment in his step to allow Magnus to pass.

Magnus felt his fatigue begin to burn away as they neared the prison, replaced with a sort of nervous energy, and the familiar feeling of more direct action.

For the first time in his life really, he was sitting across from the man in charge. Where as Magnus had feared being caught up by city guards on several occasions in his life, not he strode next to a man that they reported to. It was an odd feeling, and he found that he liked the security of it. Power was insidious, but Magnus had never really held any, so his first taste hit him fairly hard, even if he remained fairly self aware.

Magnus was fairly sure that he knew how this was going to work out. Nicolai felt he had a trump card, something that would hold the Magistrate at bay, perhaps even some secrets the man had yet to divulge. They needed to stay focused and to push, for all their sakes, but especially for Daneel.

Mages were mortal, he had eaten meals with them, slept beside them, joked with them and argued with them. They were powerful, no doubt, but they bled like any other man. Some might forget that fact after spending enough time flying through the air like a little God or striking down their enemies with a thought and gesture, but that did not change the reality of things.

Magnus caught sight of the silhouette, entered at Lord Alston's behest and then approached the prisoner slowly, his hooves grinding a little on the worn flagstones of the prison floor. His expression, although inhuman, was deadly serious.

Magnus's hooves hit the stonework floor with a sharp clack as he walks which rings with an echo upon the unfurnished cells.

Slowly, as Magnus approaches, Nicolai's head lifts.

Magnus had suspected the mob had handled the man roughly based only on the angry shouting, but seeing the after effects made the point clear.  Nicolai's face was savaged, broken open wide at the cheekbone with thick red ooze spilling down to his mouth and chin.  His eye was swollen shut and purpled, his lip engorged and split, and he was holding his arm close to his chest as if trying to keep it from moving.

Nicolai does not make an attempt to stand up.

"So."  He says, exposing bloodied teeth with a sickening smile.  "The men of the hour...  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The smile did not help Magnus's mood.

"You're gonna turn Daneel loose." Magnus told the beaten man in a flat, joyless baritone. It was not an angry voice, just a weary one, and as he said as much he reached in and pulled out the mace, the little metal cylindrical head with it's ancient designs, two feet of bludgeon with that mysteries cap on the end to give it some real heft. "Cause if you don't, I'm gonna cave your face in." the grip on the weapon tightened as he let the bag hang limp against his side, the mace now help low and deceptively casual.

"And if he dies in the time it takes me to go over there and check on 'im, I'm gonna do it anyway, before you do it again to me or anybody else." there was a brief pause, and his voice was a touch louder when he spoke again.

"So don't you waste my fuckin' time, or try to haggle...don't even smile, unless you want to make the guards track down all your teeth before they drag the next poor bastard in here." another pause. "Just do it, turn him loose, and tell me it's done so I can get on with my day." he locked eyes with the mage, and waited, his whole body tense.

"Turn him loose..."  Nicolai returns the words back at Magnus contemplatively, as if he is trying them on to see if they fit.

"An odd way to say it yes?  For he is outside, quite free...  while I on the other hand..."

Nicolai tilts his chin up, his sickening face deflected for the moment towards the ceiling as he narrows his eyes, not even looking at Magnus.

"And to threaten me with a quick death!  Do you even know the punishments which await me?  It seems everyone's favorite pass time is to remind me how long it takes to die by fire... suffocation they say!  The body snuffed out as a candle while the flames gorge themselves on the body's breath and flesh.  Quite shocking.  Perhaps if I am lucky, or..."  He nods towards Sir Alston, "If the good sir is feeling generous, I shall have the good fortune to only be hanged."

Alston walks up behind Magnus, his hands gripping on the key ring as he moves to open the cell door.

"Of course...  We must remember, that I only acted on the good sir's orders in the first place...  So I suppose if he were truly feeling generous he would join me on the gallows for sharing my crime."

Nicolai cracks a short, single laugh which dies immediately, ending in a grimace as he squints his eyes and tightens his arms around his chest.  Alston's lights up in rage with the comment, his hands shaking as he attempts to turn the key in the lock, before he realizes he has the wrong one and removes it, searching for the next one on the ring.

"No?"  Nicolai asks, glancing towards Alston, though he still has not moved so much as a limb.  "No, I suppose generous would be too much to ask.  Well, how about this then?  A life for a life.  A fair trade.  You turn me loose, and I'll do the same for your friend.  I walk... he walks."

"You admit it?"  Alston is nearly shaking in rage now, for a moment he completely forgets the keys in the lock as he stares at the sitting man.  "You admit you are still seeding pain and death with your magic?  You cannot live Nicolai!  I will not allow you to spread your evil another day!"

Gripping the keys in the lock again, Alston throws the key over, turning the tumblers and the door hangs loose on the hinges.  Alston however, seems to hesitate rather than walking in the cell.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:05, Thu 09 Sept 2021.

Magnus had warned him, that much was indisputable.

Did Magnus know if the Mage was bluffing? Of course not, his experience with Mages, although far more than the average person, was quite limited. He knew it took Finn a few moments to really get going in a fight, and that was when he could see his enemy face to face.

Did he know if Lord Alston was manipulating him like some kind of pawn? No, Magnus was the stranger here, he held little local knowledge and even less power, but he did have a mace.

Was it personal? No, not really, despite the man having drawn steel on him, and having sicked his demon on him, Magnus did not know the man to bear any real or lasting grudge.

What Magnus did know, down in his gut, is that this guy was a real bastard. Few, if any, would miss him and he had caused Magnus, and Margerie, and Daneel a whole heap of trouble. So despite the involvement of a local lord and Magistrate, despite this mans magical talent or whatever pacts he had made, Magnus felt he was in position, right there, right then, to make a difference,

It happened in the span of a second. One step, two, and the mace came down squarely towards the kneeling mans grinning face from above.

Magnus had been known to get carried away in a fight, known to blur the line between right and wrong when the blood rage had gotten into his head.  Though Magnus's mind now is no less tortured than it would be in one of his fits, he controls his body with a grim finality.  His decision is clear and righteous.  Nicolai must die.  Now.

The murderer's face tilts back towards the ceiling, his pained grin unwavering, his body not so much as flinching in the face of death.  Magnus steps swiftly through the doorway and the mace is swung with a calculating accuracy and all the strength of the minotaur's barrel-chested frame.  The mace does not even slow as it connects just high and behind the man's temple, but crushes the man's skull with ease before the head rebounds downward along with the body, bouncing once like a cork off the rough-hewn stone.

In a matter of a moment, Nicolai has gone from living to unmistakably dead.  His body lies broken, his head now a bowl overflowing with bright crimson and laying in a puddled mess of blood and teeth.

And yet... despite the fact that Magnus knows that everything has been unmistakably right... something, something inside him feels entirely wrong.  Almost as if a bit of Nicolai's blackness had fled his body in death and latched on to the closest thing still standing...

Vaguely, Magnus can hear Sir Alston talking...  Alfard is there...  Something about the law, about Magnus saving more victims...  None of it mattered.  All that was left, was to ensure that Daneel had indeed pulled through...

---

"This is bullshit!"

It is over a month later when Magnus stands upon the road from Raphael with Gus, his mule, and Arnold Bozan, the one handed thief he had saved from the gallows.  The man who had told him his suspicions of the Magistrate... the one single bit of information which had opened the door wide on Magnus's investigation.  Magnus had much to thank Arnold for, for saving Daneel's life, for the pristine, gleaming pot helm which now adorned his head.  And yet, despite this genuine gratitude, Magnus did not feel as if he owed Arnold anything.

On this one particular point, Arnold strenuously disagreed.  He had quite clearly stated, many times now over as they had exited the city, that Magnus owed him his freedom.

"I help you, and all you see fit to do is drive me to my doom, fighting invaders on the border?  Let me go, I'm no help to the legions anyway, I've only got one hand!"

Despite the man's insistences, Magnus had held resilient while picking Arnold up from the brig, had overseen as the leg shackles were installed (on Colonel Bright's insistence, as Arnold had made two bold but flawed attempts at escape) and had pushed him from the city walls without so much as a second thought.

It had taken effort though, as everything seemed to these days.  Ever since Nicolai, Magnus seemed just a little bit clumsier, he tired faster, his intellect was just a little less sharp.  It was hard to complain, especially when he spent as much time as he did around Daneel who had been on death's doorstep and was just so thankful to have completely healed within a matter of days.  Magnus was genuinely happy for him, and he could not bear to let on that some small portion of Nicolai's dark magic may yet live on.

In the end it mattered little.  Alice had said that some could throw off a curse naturally, and Magus's kind had a natural resistance to magic.  He just needed more time.  Until then, he still had a job to do, and a thief to send to Major Brashear... at least if he could stand him for that long.

OOC:  Congratulations on a successful thread!  Please feel free to make a last post for the thread before things are closed up.  Rewards and character points will follow in private.

Magnus was a religious creature, in so much I. That he believed what he had been told about God and the Devil, Heaven and Hell, and about what the bible said regarding those that consorted with "familiar spirits".

He had called Nicolai's bluff, arguably with some success as Daneel seemed to be free from his curse. Even during the time it had taken him to make the helmet, the helmet Magnus had travelled so far for and done so much to obtain, the smith had been putting on weight and moving with more vigor.

But the remnant of the man's power in life, a ghost, a curse, or a spell, remained with Magnus. It manifested mostly as a sort of anxious dread, and it made him wonder if even normal aches, pains, or sleeplessness could some how be attributed to his burden.

Nobody came away from these things clean, untroubled or unscarred. Just in this case, it seemed more literal than usual.

His stab wound was healing as well as could be expected, and Arnold's bitching , constant groans, moans and wary searching for escape routes were not make the trip any easier. Magnus was intent on bringing him in, being the sort to keep to his word, and to do right by the Legion who had always done right by him.

But besides all that, Magnus finally had his helmet, and the thing brought him an absurd amount of satisfaction every time he looked at it. It was less the helmet itself, which was a masterwork, and less the protection it offered and more the fact that after years of telling himself that he would get one, he had finally done it. A life goal, as modest as it was, achieved.

While the Minotaur could not breath easy, not with this affliction hovering over him, not after leaving behind so much death and misery in his wake, he was at least out if Raphael and back into the countryside. He was putting on the miles, far slower than he would have preferred with the prisoner in tow, but he was not about to complain.

Back to Three Corners at last, back to familiar ground, and the prospect of a little rest.

OOC: Well done! A challenging chapter via PbP with so many characters, locations and nuance, but I feel that you handled it expertly. No easy solutions with this one. I'll PM you some suggestions for the helmet. Thank again for taking the time to run it.