[Hanging 2718] In The Name Of The King

The fall out of the Riots, and Azmus’ war on the Resistance

Open for Play
A large forest in Central Anaxas, the once-thriving mostly human town of Dorhaven is recovering from a bombing in 2719 at its edge.

User avatar
Raksha
Site Admin
Posts: 304
Joined: Sat Mar 24, 2018 10:43 pm
Topics: 65
Race: Storyteller
: Resistance is Futile. Order is life.
Character Sheet: My Office
Post Templates: Post Templates
Contact:

Tue Nov 13, 2018 9:50 pm

2nd Dentis, 2718
CROSSTOWN COURT | SUNRISE
Image
I​​t was a cool, crisp, blustering Dentis morning. The sun was still coming up from its place of hiding, chasing the Light of Alioe from the paintbox autumn sky. It had rained the night before, leaving the red and orange leaves of fall damp and glistening with crystals of moisture. From afar, little birds sung their songs of love and joy and life, chasing the early morning insects before they moved to pick at the muddy riverside of the Arova River.
​​
​​It really was a classically beautiful start to the day, and a stark contradiction to the activities about to commence in Crosstown Court.
​​
​​ “Is this really necessary, Morde?” Ophelia Servalis muttered to the grim Seventen beside her, glittering amber eyes staying ahead instead of turning to face the hulking bear of a man. She wore her Headmasters’ robes under a long warm winter coat, hands tucked inside to keep them from chilling in the autumn wind. They both stood on the platform of a hastily built set of gallows, looking out across the collection of Viendan citizens that had been building since before the sun broke. Galdori mostly, but there were a handful of humans and wicks on the outskirts, well away from the ominously swinging nooses that hung like stark grisley omens against the slowly lightening sky.
​​
​​ “Which part, Headmistress? The hanging, or you being here? There’s rules Ophelia, for the hanging of criminals, and you know them as well as any other of the Upper Consulate. The High Judge, The Headmast—mistress, and the Seventen must all be present for ruling and execution.” Shifting to clasp his hands before him, Hanz Morde’s clockwork leg creaked and let out a wheeze of steam, hiding the soft rumble of a curse that came from the man.
​​
​​ “You know I don’t condone this. The people don’t want it, and I don’t see how this will resolve any further conflicts.” The dark haired woman sighed, shaking her head and looking over the crowd.
​​
​​ “The last hanging was before my time in Brunnhold, because of its barbaric nature. Haven’t we evolved to be more civilised than this? Where was the fair representation for the prisioners during the trial? All Yaris, all Yaris this went for, only to be over ruled by the King? What would he know, Morde?”
​​
​​Hanz sniffed, refusing to huddle against a strong gust of autumn wind as it buffeted against his formal uniform.
​​
​​ ”We must speak for those who can’t, Headmistress.” He said softly, glancing up as two Seventen officers appeared walking up the stairs of the gallows with three prisoners bound by the hands walking between them. One was a middle aged human male, the other a young purple haired witch and the third a tall dark mugrobi man.
​​
​​Behind the two officers followed High Judge Azmus and his lapdog Low Judge Ogden, followed by Damen D’Arthe and Maura Redden. Hanz narrowed his eyes at Captain D’Arthe, but said nothing. It was clear that Captain Redden was uncomfortable, despite her usual air of professionalism. As the officers moved towards the swinging noose, Ogden moved to stand at the front of the gallows, a small collection of notes in his hands and grey moustache even more droopy than usual. His hunched back made him look smaller than he was, and his dour face was hard. Azmus moved to stand beside Ophelia, giving the Headmistress a curt nod as he did so. Damen D’Arthe stopped beside Hanz, smoothing out his uniform.
​​
​​ “Headmistress.” Azmus said sharply, thin waxed moustache twitching slightly at her presence. Women didn’t belong in politics, not in William Azmus’ view. Especially women like Ophelia Servalis. The tall academic nodded in return, watching as the Seventen slipped the loop of the ropes over the prisoners’ heads.
​​
​​ “Is this really the way to win the minds and hearts of the people, William? The public have spoken against this archaic act. They don’t want this.” She said gently, looking away from the nooses to the High Judge with a frown. The man reached to twirl his moustache, narrowing his eyes as he looked over the crowd.
​​
​​ “We don’t aim to settle hearts and minds, Ophelia. We are here to show galdori rule is absolute. An attempt on the life of a galdor, my own life no less, will not be toler—“
​​
​​ “No one threatened your life, William, and you know it. This is a facade. ” The Headmistress hissed quietly, lifting her chin and looking towards Mars Ogden as he cleared his throat.
​​
​​ “Good citizens of Vienda. We have gathered here to witness the execution of Rohan Emmerson, Merinda Haritel, and Huna Mu Aluek. All are known members of a criminal organisation who while involved in other heinous acts during the Yaris riot here in our great city, attempted to take the life of High Judge Amzus.” Ogden turned slightly to address the prisoners, who’s breath steamed slightly in the autumn chill.
​​
​​ “After a long trial and decree of the King himself, you have been charged with the act of treason against the country of Anaxas and its government. For this, you will be hanged by the neck until you are dead. What say you against this accusation?” The prisioners looked over the crowd, their eyes searching for something—or someone—in the sea of unfriendly faces. From the far back of the gathering, a hooded figure watched with a seething anger, but he didn’t let the prisoners eyes meet his. Time ticked over, till finally the Low Judge barked at them.
​​
​​ “What say you!?” They winced, but didn’t speak. Everyone knew it wouldn’t matter what they said anyway.
​​
​​ “Have mercy, sir!” A voice called from the crowd suddenly, joined by others here and there and a slowly rising murmur from the crowd.
​​
​​With a wheezy creaking Hanz stepped forward, “I speak for the people, and object to these executions. A fair trial has not been completed yet, and no witnesses came forth to verify the attack.”
​​
​​As if on cue, Captain D’Arthe stepped forward and raised his hand, “I speak for the Seventen through way of High Judge Azmus and King Taelin. I bore witness to these attacks, and have participated in enough of a trial to recognise these three guilty of treason with conspiring to kill a galdori.” He swept his hand to point at Azmus and continued,
​​
​​ “This galdor for that matter. If it wasn’t for my presence at the time, High Judge Azmus would be dead. Commander Morde speaks for some of the people. But I speak for the King.” His crisp blue eyes bored into the one legged man with a firey challenge, leaving Morde to fume with grit teeth and clenched fists. One way or another, Azmus had won.
​​
​​Turning back to the crowd, Mars Ogden pointed at the man who waited for death.
​​
​​ ”May all bear witness that the prisoners are condemmed by Captain D’Arthe, High Judge Morde and the King himself. As such we declare them guilty of treason and attempted murder. Let the records show that this 2nd day of Dentis, Rohan Emmerson, Merinda Haritel, and Huna Mu Aluek are hanged for their crimes and their bodies will be burned without burial. In Alioe’s name.” Glancing at the High Judge, the hunchbacked man waited for his signal, and with a single nod from his better, Mars dropped his hand. From beside the gallows, one of the two officers tugged on a lever, dropping the trapdoor under the prisoners feet. They plummeted, necks snapping with a sickening crack that could be heard by all in the crowd. The witch was too light however for a clean death, dangling with eyes bulging and legs kicking as she slowly choked to death. The crowd gasped and some cried out with objection, a couple finding their previous night’s meals expelling onto the cold ground in a steaming heap. At the very back, the hooded figure stalked away, one dark glittering eye burning angrily in the morning light.
​​
​​ “It’s done then.” Ophelia said flatly, her field simmering in unhindered anger. Before she could move to leave however, the High Judge stepped forward and raise his hand to call for attention. She paused with a frown, looking at Morde who both seemed to be unaware of what could be next.
​​
​​ “Viendans. A tragic event took place here these past weeks. Once of the worst riots we have ever seen, with many deaths and injuries of good wholesome innocent galdori. This cannot be left unpunished. The witch who hangs dead before you is only one small part of a much bigger problem. We have let vermin wander our streets for too long, bringing their half breed fights into the homes of our women and children! It’s with immediate authority and implementation, that I decree all wicks who do not own a business in Vienda hereby have their writs revoked and are to immediately leave the city.” Almost at once, the crowd began to talk, a loud unsettling murmer of various opinions. About time, some would say. What the clock?! Others cried. The wicks within the crowd began to raise their voices in protest.
​​
​​ “We have homes here! Fami! Ye can’t make us leave, where would we go?”
​​
​​ “Winter is coming, we need to stock on supplies and such. We’ll never survive.” Damen D’Arthe gestured to the Seventen he’d had planted in the crowd, much to Hanz Mordes displeasure, the young officers moving to close in on the offending voices. The High Judge stroked his moustache with the hint of a smile.
​​
​​ “That is not Vienda’s problem. We have been more than generous these past years, and for that we’ve paid a grave price. All wicks will leave, today. Officers will be door knocking and checking premises for stow aways. Business owning wicks must show their papers, and their valid writs, or they will have to leave. This is a final decision.” Ophelia shook her head, as the crowd shouted in disagreement.
​​
​​ “What have you done.” She whispered, as the Seventen under Damen and Maura filtered through the people, fields buzzing with promise of threat. Tensions were high, and one small slip would not be tolerated. Those who were protesting found themselves guided to calm down, and directed to leave.
​​
​​As the crowd dispursed, Morde cursed and faced up to Captain D’Arthe, glaring at the man who raised an eyebrow cooly.
​​
​​ “Is there a problem, Commander?” The dark haired Bastian asked in a bemused tone, barely restraining the smugness that begged to seep from his very field. Hanz Morde grit his teeth, glancing at Azmus as he closed in on the two.
​​
​​ “I’m sure there’s no problem Damen. Hanz is probably just wanting to be sure he is fully across the Kings decree so he can accurately assign resources. Isn’t that right, Commander?” The Leader of the Seventen held his tongue, before glancing at Azmus.
​​
​​ “This isn’t over.” He growled quietly, before storming off the gallows with a steaming wheezing creak of his leg.
​​
​​And in the beautiful Dentis morning light, three innocent bodies swung in the breeze.
​​
 ! Message from: Raksha
Much like the Vienda Riot in Yaris 2718, this is an exposition post.

You are welcome to start new threads based on this public activity. Please date your thread(s) accordingly, and add [Hanging 2718] to your thread title as well as your thread tag(s).

If you'd like more information on how to participate, don't hesitate to talk to an Admin.

Tags:

Return to “Vienda”

  • Information
  • Who is online

    Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 10 guests