Fun Guy Escape Plan

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Log Info

  • Title: Fun Guy Escape Plan
  • Emitter: Jinks
  • Characters: Aryia, Seyardu, Paenitia, Ravenstongue
  • Place: A06: The Soldier's Defense
  • Time: Wednesday, December 01, 2021, 10:30 PM
  • Summary: Aryia is back ato the Soldier's Defense because of a headache. Seyardu and Paenitia are there to offer services as holy people. Ravenstongue has a lot of extra bread. They encounter each other in a hallway, where there is a Golem of Daeus, and two of Alexandria's finest. The guards head out for a smoke. A robed figure in a closet steals vestments from the golem. This is noticed by some, and not by others, as breads are exchanged. Aryia, then Seyardu, confront the shadowy figure and find that it is the half-sil boy from before. He claims he 'didn't do it', whatever 'it' was, and offers Aryia some trinkets as bribes. The guards return, identify the boy as Boti, and taunt him about how he will hang once he's recovered enough from the Purple Pox that he won't infect the spectators. The clerics tell the guards to stop tormenting the lad, and are in turn informed that he's a Charnese spy. Paenitia asks how that's possible, with Akoniril and the great relationship the nobles have with charn, through the statue trade. They are all told to 'speak to the magistrate', which the adventurers agree. This will happen.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A06: The Soldier's Defense *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

This hospital is composed of rock from the surrounding Redridge, which lends it a comfortable feeling of solidity. Inside, frescos line the walls. They depict warm, cheerful scenes intended to encourage healing among the sick and ailing. A small fountain towards the back of the foyer is fed by the nearby river, and a number of benches surround it, providing a place for conversation.

The entrance to the hospital is guarded often by Sunblades, its interiors tended to by the Hearthguards. Older Hearthguards tend to patients and oversee its operation, while for the younger it is an opportunity to practice their skills and hone their trade. The servants garb themselves in Althea's colors, with a stole representing the City of Alexandria on the outside, to recognize their service to both.

The building itself is quite large, though built in a way to make it appear to be a collection of smallar buildings rather than one large one. The Soldier's Defense is known for its ability to feel "like home." While it is still a hospital, it arguably accomplishes this feeling of peace and serenity better than many counterparts, with the benefits passed on to its patients. Across one of the walls are a series of paintings depicting the hospital's many benefactors over the years. The first in line is the painted face of an unknown soldier, who the hospital was first dedicated to.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Paenitia     3'0"     34 Lb      Halfling          Female    A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery.
Aryia        4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
Ravenstongue 5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Passing By =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Galidor      6'9"     265 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      Sith-makar with golden claws.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

In the halls outside the ward playing host to Ace (and others) the heat generated by hearths is more diffuse; the chill from the bitter night outside seeping in to leave the long corridors just-warm. The isolation rooms are at the other end, a long hall lined with doors and overseen by a Sunguard filling the idle time with reading. The war-golem is white-and-gold and draped in the unmistakable robes of Daeus' chosen with a rounded face of tiny, recessed eye lenses and an overlarge mouthplate that makes it look akin to a man swallowing his own nose.

The monitor sits up, head on a swivel as it tracks two women in the livery of of Alexandria's military stomping by. The pair-- both humans, like Acanians-- walk in a heavy-booted rhythm with hands on truncheons. They mutter between themselves. Cheery things like "hanging's too good" and "make 'em well then send to Hells." They have that relaxed camaraderie that implies a longtime working relationship.

A heavily scarred mul'neissa woman had returned to the Defense, citing another headache, this one worse than the others by far. She's only just now settled in, sipping on a medicinal tea with a cold rag on her forehead as she sits in a chair with her head lulled back. She's present, and idly paying attention to the ebb and flow of the hospital, but she seems to be lost in her own head at the moment.

Ravenstongue steps in from the cold into the hospital holding a bag of croissants and berry loaves from a local bakery. However, the alabaster raven on her shoulder looks at her with begging eyes and equally pathetic-sounding begging noises. "Snack..."

The half-elf rolls her eyes. "Listen, I bought way too much discount bread today. Sharing it all between us and Telamon only brought us down to half the bag. The kind thing to do is to donate the rest to the hospital, and that's what we're here to do--"

She stops in her tracks as she sees Aryia. "Oh no, Aryia! Are you okay?" she asks, frowning. "Umm, I don't have any medicine, but I have a /lot/ of free bread if you're interested."

There is a regimented clanking, and a small, red suit of full plate armour marches down the hall. The helm incorporates a wide-brimmed mask, and the visor is one of a stylized man's face, with a wide grin and huge mustache. The one inside however, is a woman if the shape of the armour is any indication. Normally such embellishments and exaggerations might be considered too costly, but adamantine is in a category all its own. A little flattering likely doesn't add much. A cape of white peacock feathers bounces along behind her.

The two grim soldiers stomp on, glancing around at the infirm and attendants, both, on their way to the doors outside. It's time for a break, likely, and one-- flat-faced with close-cropped brown hair and a gap in her teeth-- is already fishing a pipe and pouch of smokeweed from her belt. The other has longer, dirty-blonde hair, slender jaw, and untrusting brown eyes that linger on Aryia as she passes. "... we betting on how many times these ones kick?" She asks the other, finally turning away from the mul'.

The sunguard closes its book and stands, quietly clanking spilling out from beneath its robes. A three-fingered hand wraps around a crook and it braves the isolation ward on rounds.

Some distance down a hall a supplies closet door opens just a crack, slowly, and for only a moment before easing closed again.

Seyardu was one of the many in the Soldier's Defense at any given time, and she needs to spend some time helping out the many sick and injured in the place. Though she does stop just a moment to glare at the guards when they are not looking, before continuing on. Which brings her near to where Ravenstongue and Aryia are. The silver makari sighs and crouches down nearby. "Peace on your nest Aryia, is everything alright? I have heard today is not the first time you have been here. Have you been getting the care you need? If the other healers are a problem, perhaps I could help." She offers, before turning to wave to the familiar paladina. "Peace on your nest Paenitia, are you alright? What brings you here, as well?"

Aryia's ear twitches at the sounds of a familiar squawky raven, her sighing in defeat. Her headache was killer, he'd just make it worse. She does give a pained smile, cracking an eye open to Ravenstongue and Seyardu to give a little wave. "I'm fine, taken care of, just have a bad headache is all..." she motions slowly.

The clanking from a Crimson Knight, makes her wince with each footfall, but the mute glances over and waves idly in kind greeting.

That untrusting brown eye has a glowing, torch-bright one snapping towards it and meeting gaze. She was on a short temper right now, so she just lets it go... but couldn't help but glance towards the end of the hall at the closet. <Handspeech>

Aryia also gently declines the bread with a shake of her head.

"Hola, yes, I am fine. I treat the sick. I am, as I introduce myself, Sister Paenitia." The small knight makes an even smaller bow, "the Temple of Tarien does not need the help, so I give here."

"I hear they are going to tell what the big secret is soon. I hope it worth the weight." The paladina says cheerfully, "greetings comrade!"

The other two guards, the sun-guard, the opening closet, these things escape her. Much of life is lost with a full helm's visor interposing on it.

The weight of her conscience.

"A headache? Okay Pothy, better shut your trap--Aryia could probably kill you within two seconds and you wouldn't even feel it," Ravenstongue says with a side-eye to her familiar.

Pothy looks like he wants to say something, but it seems that he seems to remember something... and he just nods vigorously. He wants to live another day to eat so many more loaves of bread.

Ravenstongue smiles to Seyardu. "Do you want some bread then?" she asks, gesturing to her bag of bread. "Otherwise I'm going to leave it with the receptionist or someone else to give to the sick and wounded. Or the staff. Whoever's willing to eat, really--I'm not picky, I just have too much bread and it's all wasted on Pothy."

The closet door seems to open of its own accord once more. It drifts a little wider this time to reveal a dark sliver on unlit room beyond. Then it slides back closed...

The sunguard returns from the isolation hall, bending down at the desk to collect a satchel. It stands straight, head swiveling to look down the main hall before it pivots and returns to its rounds with the bag hanging from its shoulder, flap opened.

The mute stares down Pothy as he briskly nods. Good. Good.... She nods in turn, acknowledging his trap being shut. Unlike before, it didn't look like her fuse was very long.

Aryia weakly chuckles at Paenitia. "I sure hope so, tired of this crap..." she sighs, still keeping a careful eye on the door. The dawnguard seemed none the wiser, and she was getting a little curious/suspicious. "... is anyone else seeing this...?" she gestures on the sly, giving a faint tilt of her head towards the closet door down the hall. <Handspeech>

"He might yet be round. The round bird is the happy bird." Paenitia says, although her bird-horse is not spoiled nearly that much. Perhaps it is all the flying Ramirez does. "I will take some the bread."

She watches Aryia carefully, then laughs, "I still do not understand the hands, but I do have the eyes. Is there something to look around to see? There is only the butts and tails, as usual."

From one white bird-carer to another, Ravenstongue gladly hands over the bag of bread. She also looks over to the closet door and raises a brow. "Huh. What do you think is going on over there?" she motions to Aryia. Then, out loud to Pae, she says, "Something with the door," very quietly, a very quick motion with her hands to where Aryia gestured. <Handspeech>

Another pause-- a bit longer this time-- and then with your eye on the door you observe the knob turning painstakingly slow. Then it eases open a hair's width at a time. It stills, hanging ajar, and then opens enough to disgorge another robed figure who quickly-- but quietly-- turns to close the door behind it.

Hands fold into sleeves and it begins to shuffle down the hall with its head bowed beneath a hood. It has to do this deliberately, slowly, for the robes are in need of a good hemming and bunch at the floor. The stole is grey and gold with the dawnstar's burst dragging on the ground at either side.

The dawnguard is still down the hall on its own rounds.

Aryia can't help but snort at Paenitia this time around, followed by a light silent groan of pain. "Eyes are up here, Paenitia," she jokes. Regardless of that, she nods at Ravenstongue's translation and gestures further with one hand beside her. "... someone being sneaky," she motions.

And then someone emerges. She squints. "... fake Dawnguard," she signs, then knocks back her tea and rises to her feet. <Handspeech>

"Yes, you are almost right sized, you have the bust at the butt height. It is not the far distance to look up." Paenitia agrees, once again guessing at the mul'niessa's signs. Ravenstongue's whisper was enough to give her a hint, and she looks down the hall.

"Another who look like they growing into the vestments or get the too large size." She comments.

Ravenstongue frowns as she looks at the indicated person. "Should we do something?" she whispers again, looking quickly back at Pae and Aryia.

At Aryia getting up, however, Pothy begins to wiggle his little tail feathers. He seems to anticipate she's going to do something, and he seems to know what it is. The look in his eyes suggest he's even excited to witness it.

"The tents of the hearthguards outside could use donations, but they are good for bread for tomorrow. Paenitia could make use of it, yes." Seyardu agrees, though her eyes narrow as the scene unfolds, with many seeming to be making their plans revealed. She sighs, and adjusts her clothing, making sure the satchel was properly situated. "Please excuse me, but I may need to make my presence known." She says to the others, nodding to Aryia before walking over to where the small figure was, purposefully putting herself in their path. "Peace on your nest, is there anything with which I can help you?" She asks.

The figure pauses and the hood moves as the face beneath searches out a path around Seyardu's bulk. It smells strongly of ointments and balms, much as a healer would. There's some fidgeting, the rattling of metal-on-metal, and then delicately-thin fingers product a silvered holy symbol... a disc with the blue rose of Althea.

"The darkness now pre-curses the bright dawn on the tuh-OOH-morrow," the voice intones, a false basso breaking. "Hchrm," clears the throat. Then the arms folded again and he turns to make his way around the sith-makar, stepping a little livelier.

Aryia huffs a quiet laugh at Pae once more, her smiling and shaking her head. She glances to Pothy, seeing his excitement. She sighs, "Sorry bird brain, no fancy moves today," she signs to him, reaching out to pet the raven once along the back before stepping forward with Seyardu. Her face grimaces with each step, her head pounding. She doesn't stop with them, instead she walks towards the exit, like she was leaving. Covering the exit. <Handspeech>

"You forget to use the address, Vanguard." Paenitia says cheerfully, following behind Seyardu, then completely unexpectedly ending up directly in the robed figure's path as he steps around the silverscale.

"Hola Vanguard!" The little Red Knight says, "there are the bedpans in the cholera ward that need the gathering and the rinsing. You are available to help, yes?"

Ravenstongue follows behind the group carefully, her hand subtly raised in case she needs to fire some magic missiles into the shady figure.

Pothy is divinely soft. His feathers feel like how little babies laugh. There's a strange fluffy feeling to the familiar that perhaps was not anticipated. No wonder why Ravens keeps him around.

However, the focus of the moment is not on Pothy's top-tier floof and on the strange individual. Ravenstongue narrows her eyes, preparing. Waiting.

Seyardu sighs, and her arms cross as she steps back in front of the strange figure who is attempting to step around them. "You wear the robes of Serriel, and produce a holy symbol of Althea. Could you please explain yourself? It would not do for people to be sneaking around here pretending to be clerics." She states, continuing to be in the way.

The robed fellow hunches down even lower when Paenitia approaches, turning his head and fidgeting in his sleeves. "(call her a 'ward?')" a mumbled younger voice wonders. There's an obvious tremor of nervousness as he takes a step back.

"Uh, Cereal... in the morning for a bright, uh, day..." Out comes the holy symbol again but with a little extra this time. Hooked on the disk is the open C of a manacle; it drops to dangle from a short chain attached to its twin on the boy's other wrist.

"F-" begins the very un-cleric-like expletive before he turns and starts running the opposite direction.

As if on cue, the dawnguard returns carrying a rolled sheet stuffed with other bedclothes. It might otherwise look confused, nonplussed, or upset... but it's a war-golem with rather static features. "Assembled take caution. A Purple Pox patient is missing."

Aryia is keeping an eye on the conversation as she's about to go past the threshold of the door, but she pauses for just a moment as the others all but surround the hooded figure.

And then they bolt.

Ugh, this was going to hurt...

A faded after image appearance next to Ravenstongue, a faint breeze going by her as there's another image of the mute elf some distance ahead. Then solidifies right in front of the fleeing patient. Her head flares in pain. "C-n y- c-s- th-s f-l-shn-ss? - w-ll sm-t- y- wh-r- y- st-nd..." she hisses out in annoyance. <Undercommon>

"Yes! Pretending to be in the holy orders is the worst thing." Paenitia agrees emphatically, nodding as Seyardu confronts the figure.

Who vanishes.

And is chased by a blurr.

She turns to look up at the golem, "That is terrible. Have you check the closets?" Inquiry launched.

Seyardu was not ready for them to turn and bolt, but she gave pace, only for Aryia to appear in front of them. And then the cleric was behind them. The cleric did not look unkind, but they did re cross their arms as she looks down to them. "If you are the purple pox patient, then I would kindly ask you to return to your room. It is for your own sake, as if so, then your treatment is of the utmost appointments for you." She states, gesturing to the war golem. "Why do you seek to run from here?

"Yeah, you're not going to get better if you run from treatment," Ravenstongue pipes up. "You really don't want to be at the bidding of walking mushroom people. They are /not/ nice to the people they infect, and you're just going to make it worse for everyone by trying to leave."

Pothy looks cross, too, but the only way he can make this apparent without triggering Aryia's headache temper is by shaking his head furiously.

Distracted by the fracas, the war-golem takes a moment before processing Paenitia's suggestion. It nods once and starts towards the nearest closet.

The robed escapee tries to stop when Aryia appears in front of him but trips, bony knees and elbows finding the wooden floor as the holy symbol bounces away. He sits back up, wincing as his hood falls back to reveal the half-Sil from the waystop and, later, the myceloid colony. His cheek is smeared with a sticky, stinky balm and his neck is bandaged as is his right wrist and forearm.

The boy's dark blue eyes are panicked as he looks around only to go wide and lock on Aryia when he recognizes her. He may not understand her words but she's a familiar face; he scrambles across the floor and latches onto her coat. "We have to go, please. Please. Please, now. I didn't do it, I promise. I didn't do it, please." He's near to hyperventilating and her coat twists in his white-knuckled grip.

The sunguard stops on his way to the closet and detours when the boy is revealed. "You are assigned to a room for your recovery. You should not be out in the halls. It is for your health as the sith-makar has said."

Aryia's eyes go wide at the sight of the hal-sil, her taking a half step back before her green coat is latched onto. His rapid words were like a drill in her head, so she raises a finger to her lips and loudly "Shhh!"s him. The mute takes a breath, and tries to placate him by gently holding onto a wrist and beckoning to calm with the other.

Ravenstongue frowns deeply as she sees it's the half-sil boy. "Hey, hey, hey. Nobody's accusing you of anything. They just want you to get better," she says. "Do you want me to walk with you back to your bed? Maybe we can talk about things?" <Sildanyari>

"I think he do something. He have the guilty face." The Red Knight surmises, striding towards the half-sil. Clank-clank-clank. She isn't deliberately moving like a golem, enve if she matches the golem's pace step for step.

As she draws close, she produces a mask from somewhere. A face with a stylized grin and a beard a half-sil couldn't possibly grow. She holds it out to him, "Wear this, they will not know." <sildanyari>

"Remember, the laughter is the best medicine." Paenitia advises, "go giggle with the golem."

"You are not in trouble, really." Seyardu states, crouching down now. "But you need to rest and recover. And, you need a place to stay afterwards, do you not? Judging by our previous encounter."

"After you recover, while you are recovering, I will check in on you. If you need that, then we can talk further then. Is that alright?"

He closes his mouth, breathing heavily in and out through his nose, knotting his eyebrows as Ravenstongue speaks. The boy starts shaking his head, slowly at first but then more emphatically. When he speaks his Sildanyari is broken and heavily accented, the grammar incorrect. 'No, sleeping, no, no, no. Please. Please.'

He's trying to calm down but it's a losing battle. Pulling away from Aryia he reaches into the robes, groping and grasping and producing all manner of small trinkets. A half-burnt votive candle, a prayer book with a fine leather cover stamped in glittering print, a balled-up-but-clean shirt, a stoppered well of ink. Half-worthless bribes that he keeps trying to force into the mul's hands.

"Please, take it. All of it is for you, please. We just-- please, please, now. I promise I didn't do it..."

The sunguard drops the decoy bundle and steps over slowly, taking care to approach easily. Its bellows offers what's meant to be a calming hum.

The half-Sil flinches away from Paenitia, ready to launch into a fresh set of pleas when the entrance door slams closed. The two soldiers are back from break, preceded by a gust of icy wind from outside. Both pause long enough to consider the hubbub before reaching to their belts. Flat-face draws her truncheon. Blondie holds a fresh set of manacles by the middle chains.

Aryia is a bit overwhelmed as things are shoved into her free hand. Things she didn't need nor care about. The door slam drives another nail into her skull, and she massages her temple. Weakly, she passes the half sil to Seyardu, and the mute slinks off to a more quiet part of the hospital. A proper migraine setting in. "Good luck kid," she motions over her shoulder, starting to break into a cold sweat as she leaves. <Handspeech>

Ravenstongue frowns, switching back to the common tongue. "Hey, hey, hey. Listen, I'm just like you. I'm half-sil, too. I was one of the people who helped get you back here so you could be cured. You're infected with a really, really infectious disease that can hurt a lot of people--so you /need/ to stay here and let them take care of you. I understand it's scary, but we're tough people--we have to be. What's your name? You can call me... Lana." She smiles a little, trying to reassure him that everything's okay and he's among friends.

Pothy quirks his head a little at Ravenstongue's attempts to connect with the youth.

Seyardu blinks and ends up with a hand on one of the half-sil's shoulders when Aryia shoves them away, and the silver sith-makar just sighs. "Look, trading away potentially stolen goods is not good for a bribe to get out of trouble. But I promise that those you took it from will not be angered, if you come with me to return them after you have rested and are well. It will not be too much longer, I promise." She offers. "And if you are willing, I will help set you up with people who can help you to afford food, and teach you more about the common trade tongue of these lands. Lana is a good person, and you can trust her too, I promise."

"Yes, you remember the lucht that own the wagon? We go in the cave. We see the even more ballon with the disease. That will happen you also. Remember the explosion?" Paenitia asks, taking up a position to surround the boy, triangle flanking.

She looks up at the two approaching guards. As always, her mask grins for her.

"Much big explosion." She taps at the nose of her mask, and says quietly, "You will be better with the golem than the guards."

The half-Sil issues a moan when Aryia leaves. Paenitia's mask unsettles him, clearly, and the sunguard isn't much better. He hurriedly pushes the junk Aryia didn't accept towards Ravenstongue and Seyardu. "Please--" he begins, only to be interrupted.

"Boti, Boti, Boti," taunts the blonde soldier, slowly twisting her wrist so the manacles clatter menacingly. They both smell of the pipe smoke; the acrid stink competing with the pungent balm smearing the infected half-Sil. "You're not meant to be out of your room..." Jinks says, "Not out of your room," echoes flat-face. "Did you break you chains? Those are good, Alexandrian chains, Boti."

"Alexandrian, yeah." Adds the blonde as she holds up the new set indicatively. She smirks and chuckles mirthlessly when Seyardu tries to soothe the boy. "Sorry, miss. No home for this one. A warm bed to rest so he's not diseased and then a bit of a swing." ('A swing,' repeats the other.) "Boti here's a Charnese spy just like his buddy back there." A gloved thumb is tossed back down the isolation ward hall.

"No honor among spies, I guess." Snears flat-face. "Buddy gave him right up. Magistrate says it's the gallows for both."

"Yup, both."

"This is unnecessary and cruel." The war-golem counters, standing up and facing off against the two thuggish women. "There is no reason to taunt the boy so."

The half-Sil, Boti, just looks between Seyardu and Ravenstongue as he weeps and continues to mouth for help. He even reaches into his robe to try and find something else to offer as bribe..."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Diplomacy: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)

"Boti? Just stay behind me and don't move," Ravenstongue says to the boy with a smile. She steps forward and her expression goes grave as she stares down the two soldiers. "This is a boy. A /child/. He could be my little brother. I hardly believe for a moment he's actually a spy. I'm sure that the other one told you what you wanted to hear in hopes the magistrate gave him a lighter sentence. Use your head for a moment! Your eyes, even!"

"Yeah, listen to 'er," Pothy croaks, mimicking the gravel-laden voice of a man who has lived longer than anyone presumed his expiration date to be.

GAME: Paenitia rolls sense motive: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Paenitia rolls intimidate: (5)+13: 18

"Ah, but Alexandria is the very good friends with Charn. Did you not know?" Paenitia turns, staring up at the two women, "The many statues are shipped there, on behalf the nobles with the guard approval. And there is they head high priestess. Akoniril Belvade. I have seen much about town, even with the Alexandrian guards attend to her."

She turns to dramatically peer at the half-sil, then back at the two, "Ah! I understand. He have the bribe of poor quality."

"This... this should be the proof for you he is not the Charn spy. They do not send they spies out with lipstick." The Dark Lucht states.

GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (17)+9: 26

Seyardu sighs, and turns to glare at the two guards. "What, were the ruling bodies not satisfied with their last unnecessary execution for an innocent person?" She asks, letting her eyes narrow even more than usual. "Did any of you stop to think, that maybe the Charn slaver was trying to save themselves, as Ravenstongue put so simply? I can confirm that they all met where we found them recently, unless you are saying the woodsman living here for so long was a spy as well? Perhaps the others in the cave that exploded? I am sure the slaver would not hesitate to name them as well."

The two soldiers both take a half-step apart, looking up at the wargolem and narrowing their eyes. They aren't making any hostile moves-- not in the hospital-- but their expressions are intractable. The war-golem, to its credit, holds its ground.

It all shatters when Ravenstongue offers her ideas for consideration. "Lighter sentence? Pah-hah-haha!" Explodes flat-face.

"Maybe she thought the magistrate was gonna hang the guard twice-- har-har-har-- but now it's down t'one!" They forget themselves momentarily and enjoy their chuckle only to stop and sober up when Paenitia speaks. Both stammer, exchanging nervous glances, and then one clears her throat...

"Look, uh, Litte Knight, you have a problem with the verdict you can go and talk to the magistrate." Blondie finally speaks up after finding her nerve. She steps around the war-golem and looms over Ravenstongue, holding up the manacles and canting her head to get the sorceress to move.

"Talk to the magistrate," echoes flat-face, twirling her baton. "Got at least a few days before the fungus falls off the boy, says the clerics," she challenges Seyardu. "We're just here to make sure Boti stays in his room."

"Yeah, Boti, back to your room..."

Boti crouches down behind Ravenstongue into a little ball, wrapping his hands over the back of his head.

Ravenstongue balls her hands up into fists. For a split second, it looks like she's contemplating incinerating the two soldiers. But she exhales a sigh and looks back at Boti. "Boti, I'm going to go talk to the magistrate. We're going to clear this up and you're going to be okay. Can you hold on a bit longer for me? Please? I promise I'll come through for you." She gives the boy a smile.

"Yes, you are probably correct, Paenitia. The bribe isn't quite enough." She nods slowly to Paenitia. "I will speak to this magistrate, yes. I will tell them why this makes no sense and is a bad idea. But I have spoken to those chased out of Alexandria on account of saving a person who was to be wrongfully executed. It is not the best track record for executions, is it? And this sounds like it is shaping up to be another. You two must realize that this makes little sense, yes? Maybe he is trying to escape from this for good reason, for which reason, I completely understand."

"I think I do that also." Paenitia announces, staring at the pair. She's about to pat the boy in a reassuring way, but he does have the pox. Best not to. Instead, she tilts her head so the grin is lopside and cheerfully advises, "Stay with the Golem, it will be good for you."

Her voice lowers, "They looking for the excuse. To find you alone and out of place. Do not give."

After which she marches past, with high steps and a solid thump as each foot goes down. At the door she glances back. Her view is as it often is, especially with the two guards closest to her.

One that's mostly asses.

"I will be having words with your superiors." Promises the sunguard. Much like Ravenstongue, the two-handed grip it holds the crook in could very easily be interpreted as a battle stance. "This is a house of healing; not a torture chamber. You petty vengeance has no place here." The voice is flat, fluttering as the internal bellows fluctuates through some sort of fan. Still, even without a living inflection there's a fury to be heard... or maybe you're just feeling your own in the war-golem's speech.

"Charnese are demons. Turn babies into spies and assassins if they could." Flat-face tells Seyardu, crossing her arm.

"And don't think we didn't see you with that mul'," adds Blondie as she watches Ravenstongue step aside. There's a scar splitting her right eyebrow, making it seem to split further and push apart when she quirks it in silent challenge. She might be inviting the sorceress to take her shot.

"They were, weren't they..." muses Flat-face as she looks between the three. "Awfully eager to spare the boy the magistrate says is a spy..." She narrows her eyes.

"This. Is madness." Observes the sunguard.

"C'mon, Boti." Blondie calls, nudging the boy with her boot. His whined 'no' into his lap is drawn and pitiful. "Back to your room, Boti," she repeats as an edge creeps into her voice. When he doesn't move again she bends and takes hold of the manacle chain still dangling from his arm and tries to lift him up. He kicks his feet out, trying to get away but only succeeds in scattering his stack of junk bribes.

When he won't go to his feet she just starts to drag him back towards the hall. He pulls at his arms and just repeats a litany of "no" over and over again until he's sobbing unintelligibly.

Flat-face stays behind long enough for the boy to get into the isolation hall. "Careful sticking your necks out..." She grunts, swinging the truncheon before she follows after Blondie and Boti.

"Watch your knees." The little Knight grunts back.

Ravenstongue bites her lip hard, shaking her head. Her eyes brim with tears as she hears Boti wailing. Once the guards are out, she says quietly, "I will get stronger so I can make people like /them/ pay."

The white raven sits almost ominously on her shoulder as she departs the hospital, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

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