The Unfinished Duet, part 10

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Log Info

  • Title: The Unfinished Duet, part 10
  • Emitter: Delilah
  • Characters: Ashes, Delilah, Donna, Elyanna, Merek, Seldan
  • Place: A16 Noble Quarters - The Courts
  • Time: Monday, November 23, 2020, 8:21 PM
  • Summary: The Trial continues. The mourner is struck by four Magic Missiles, cast by Delilah. This large hole in the prosecution's case is papered over with the suggestion by Knight-Lieutennant Graves that Delilah used a scroll. The defense argues, again, that the prosecution's arguments are convoluted, there would have been a trail of such a high level scroll, and the simpler solution is someone else did it. Delilah cannot be both Mastermind and Dolt as the situation requires. Before things go much further, Ella is brought in to testify, and confirms she spent part of the evening with Delilah. The defense is suspicious, Elyanna believing she's been coerced, but no unusual testimony has been given.

The sound of wood striking wood echoes through the chamber. "ORDER!" the Magistrate practically snarls. Daverin turns a baleful gaze in Merek's direction, practically seething for a moment. "You do your charge no favors with such an outburst," she declares. "You compare this trial to the Hells? Understand that it is likely to be where that young woman," she nods towards Delilah, "Will be *going to* if it is found that she did, indeed, murder Lady Alenthor. A conclusion that I am presently leaning towards. I will remind you, because it seems somehow to be necessary, that this is my courtroom. Make another outburst like that, and I will hold not only you in contempt of this court, but Miss Valethor as well."

The Magistrate leans back after that, and steeples her fingers, looking at the various parties present in turn as she restores her composure. She gazes towards Seldan, and then to Ashes. "Your offer is courageous, Silver Guard," she states at last. "But that will not be necessary. Mourner Ashes has offered herself as a target, and she will be the one to serve as such. Knight-Lieutenant Graves, as you are the resident expert on magic and hedge sorcery, you will release miss Valethor from her bindings, so she may demonstrate the spell in question, and take action if she casts anything *other* than Magic Missile."

As Graves stands up, Delilah finally turns her presently terrified eyes towards Donna; seeking support, and finding it. She gulps in a breath, and lets it out slowly. She can't perform a lot of the hand signals she and Donna used to do, but she can just manage one; she taps one fingertip on her chest, not quite over her heart but as close as the chain lets her get. 'I love you.'

Graves reaches Delilah, and unlocks the chains binding her wrists, letting them hang from the railing. As Delilah rubs her wrists, the Knight Lieutenant takes a position beside her, at the opening to her space; she couches her crossbow against her shoulder, and points it at the sorcerer's head. "Cast," she instructs. "Targeting the Mourner. Only one spell."

The mourner dips her head to the magistrate, silently acknowledging her words. She turns around, faces Delilah. Her hands remain clasped around her holy symbol. Her eyes, down in her dark sockets, stare at the accussed. The mourner makes an attempt to sound reassuring, but her words come out in monotone. "It's ok. It's for her."

Because Ashlee does care for dead people, and there's been very little aid she's been able to give Bethany. She says a silent prayer to herself, Feiu of the Tears, don't let it hurt too much.

She's been injured in combat before, of course. It's another thing to ask for it, then wait. Her gaze remains fixed, her words still flat and unchanged, "When you're ready."

Elyanna whirls at the outburst from the otherwise relatively quiet portion of their bench. Surprise and dismay at equal measure in her eyes. The red wman turns anew to regard the Mourner, and a proud smile touches the corners of her lips, a soft Goblin "/Boldly played./" given freely. She squares her burden and stands to attention to bear witness to the consensus, the proscription of Ashlee's test.

Leaning back, Donna reaches out, snagging hold of the sleeve of Merek's robe and tugging briefly. "Hey, uh... Maybe you don't want to yell at the one person whose job is, like, 'convince me that this didn't happen the way other people say it did?' And maybe yelling at her doing her job might, Iunno, make her stop wanting to be convinced?"

Merek watches while the Magistrate speaks, then looks back to Donna. The man nods a bit to the one leading the trial, "I apologize, Your Honor." While he would begin settling back while he will watch, waiting in thought. An alien mind, beginning to think."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ashes        5'11"    177 Lb     Hobgoblin         Female    A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face
Delilah      5'4"     106 Lb     Human             Female    A golden haired human girl in white robes.
Donna        5'4"     106 Lb     Human             Female    A black-haired human girl in black robes.
Elyanna      5'11"    153 Lb     Half-Orc          Female    A grim, Arvek-blooded woman in raven feathers.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male      Ginger-blonde human in armor wearing Eluna's symbol.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Delilah      5'4"     106 Lb     Human             Female    A golden haired human girl in white robes.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

With nothing left to do, Seldan turns to the others, his entire demeanor gone entirely impassive, and somehow, ice-cold, not unlike the way a soldier might with a commander in his face yelling at him. He merely nods acceptance to the magistrate, and seats himself with apparently composure, waiting for this to be done.

Right now, the ball is -- for perhaps the first time today -- in Delilah's court, albeit with a crossbow pointed point-blank at the side of her head. This is hardly the first time she's had to cast under pressure, but there's a difference between cracking off Magic Missile in a hurry because there's a zombie keen on eating your brains, and standing in court waiting to find out if you life is going to last a few more decades or a few more days.

So, with an uncharacteristic hush fallen over the courtroom, Delilah takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Alright," she murmurs. "Magic Missile. One cast, at Mourner Ashes." She looks up at the one with the skull-face, and bobs her head once. "I... appologize for this," she murmurs. And then she lifts her hands, performing the arcane gestures as her ees and arm-brands glow, drawing shimmering blue runes in the air. "Thoir pian gu mo nimhdean gum bi iad uile a caoineadh deir goirt," she chants; and then the runes coalesce into a set of missiles, that blast the short distance to impact hard in Ashes chest. Four of them. They lance deep into the Mourner's body, leaving puncture wounds that cauterize; the four missiles remain for a few moments, sticking out of her and sizzling softly before they flicker and wink out of existence.

"Okay," Delilah whispers, and holds her wrists out in front of her. Graves lowers her crossbow, and snaps the manacles back into place, before returning to her place by the Prosecution's desk. "Four missiles, your honor," she explains, looking up. "Like I said."

GAME: Delilah rolls 4d4+4: (8)+4: 12

Ash makes a small noise of pain, followed by a long inhale that sounds like a gasp. She nods at Delilah, "Thank you."

She turns to face Knight-Lieutennant Graves, "Would you, or any one else, like to examine the damage before I seek healing?" Her voice remains monotone, bland, her words carefully paced despite the injury.

Elyanna, still cradling Ashes's bag per her request, the ear to Donna's side perking slightly as she takes in the chastisement, not seeing the reproachful(?) look from the paladin. She lets out a slow breath through her nose, eyeing Delilah as the spellwork begins. Unbidden, unrealized, the hobkin's grip reflexively tightens slightly on the bag as the force shards strike home. Her eyes seek Delilah's a moment, a nod, there, and then her attention returns to the Mourner and the Knight-Lieutenant.

Merek does not add any commentary. Between the people commenting to him, he knows already it isn't best to speak, also the fact he said already what he wanted to. All the same he watches, waiting. When it looks like what they knew was even confirmed, he waits to watch the Magistrate.

Like everyone else, Seldan watches, and counts mentally. When four appear, he returns his attention to Knight-Lieutenant Graves. "Knight-Lieutenant, were you aware of this fact about the _magic missile_ spell, that the number of missiles produced is indicative of the proficiency of the caster?" He rises smoothly, the ice melting away into cool, polite composure.

"This is insane," Donna murmurs, the heels of her hands pressing against her temples as Delilah prepares to loose her magic. "How the *fuck* do we go from 'not guilty, Yer Honor,' to 'fire away, defendant' an' *still* have more to do?"

"That will not be necessary," Magestrate Daverin replies to Ashes. "You may return to your seat, and if the Silver Guard has the capacity to heal you, you may receive it. Otherwise you may be excused to seek immediate attention." She settles back in her seat, and steeples her fingers in front of her, and presses the tips of her index fingers to her lips.

"It certainly seems to be a hole in your case," she states, turning her gaze towards the Prosecutor. "Unless you can explain to me how a Sorceress capable of casting Magic Missiles in multiples of four, somehow manages to produce exactly five?"

Graves looks first towards Seldan, then up towards the Magistrate. "I was and am aware of this facet of Magic Missiles," she explains, sounding just as rigid and unbending as when she was pointing a crossbow at Delilah's head a moment ago. "It's a point we were meaning to bring up." She produces a scroll case, and removes the contents, which she unfurls and holds up to be seen. "This is a Scroll of Magic Missile," she explains. "Like the Silver Guard's Hat of Disguise, it's cheap, and readily available to adventurers with the means -- like Miss Valethor. This particular version will fire five missiles, which would be extremely useful to any spellcaster who wanted to obfuscate their level of skill at a crime-scene."

At this point, Delilah looks like her knees are about ready to give out. She looks back to the Defense's table, in time to catch Elyanna's nod, but really she's looking most to her sister.

Her hands are clenched. Her posture quite straight, and stiff. Her ears are trembling, this is obviously from the way the piercings she has are moving. Otherwise it would be a fine detail, lost in her hair and hobgoblinness. The Magic Missiles hurt, and Ashlee didn't have the benefit of combat adrenaline. She's doing her best to hide it, her breathing is tight, she nods and walks stiffly towards the bench. Ash stands in front of Seldan, "If you could. Thanks."

She looks over at Graves, still breathing hard from her injuries, "Isn't that a little reaching? She's smart enough to use a scroll but dumb enough to use her own dragonspitter? Brilliant and Dumb at the same time? Wouldn't the simplest solution be... someone else?"

It's impossible to squash; Donna turns to look at Delilah with a 'Can you believe this shit?' look, then drops her head to the table for a moment. "I'm sorry, Your Honor," she says at a normal volume -- perhaps a bit louder than conversational-voice, to account for the muffling effect of the table. "But this is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, an' I heard a lot. Th' Mourner makes a great point, but the prosecution ain't answered the obvious question." Turning to glare at the Prosecutor, Donna clenches her hands against the desk hard enough to make her knuckles pop. "You been bendin' over backwards to paper over all the other cracks, but I don't remember anyone layin' that one out plain. She got arrested in court, waitin' to face Bethany *like the law intended.* What killer even goes within *shoutin' distance* of a courthouse if they ain't already in irons?!"

"Your Honor, I concur with my fellows." Elyana remarks, glancing sidelong to Graves, "We are apparantly to expect that Delilah is both a cunning, master assassin, and a complete dolt from one end of a Prosecutor's sentence to the other." There is a look to Ashes's wound, to Donna's protest, then, "I understand a scroll functions at the minimal capacity without being specially commissioned, a process that takes time." A pointed glance to the Knight, "A process that leaves a trail, would it not?"

Merek looks to the Prosecution in thought, while he watches. "I agree. The whole case of the Prosecution seems to be that the defendant was both idiotic and intelligent at the same time."

Without remark or preamble, Seldan turns to the Mourner and places hands on her shoulders, murmuring something that to those closest sound like rote prayers. Before long, a silver-blue glow forms under his hands, healing the Mourner's injuries. It takes but a few moments, and when it is done, he pauses, hesitates, then says, loudly enough to be heard. "Come to me when this is done, Mourner, and I shall see to the cleaning of your robes as well. A fine and pertinent demonstration."

Then, he turns back to the Knight-Lieutenant, still coolly composed. "An interesting theory, Knight-Lieutenant, but my fellow is correct. A scroll of a spell functions at no more power than its basest form without special scribing from a caster powerful enough to do more than the minimum. Surely there are not so many casters in this city of sufficient skill to be capable of what was done to Mistress Alenthor. If such a scroll existed, then it is well worth our time as proponents of justice to seek the scriber of such a scroll, does one exist, is it not? Without that person, your offering is but conjecture."

With this, he turns to the magistrate. "Your Honor, I think that the Alenthor family has been done a disservice here. They deserve to know the truth of what happened to their daughter, as does the city. It is in my mind that the prosecution offers a flimsy case, constructed hastily and with mere lip service given to a search for truth. Why did the woman with whom Mistress Valethor purportedly spent the evening take her son and flee to Charn? Why do we not have the identity of the one who scribed the scroll, if such was used, and why is that person not present here? Why do we not know for certain that Mistress Valethor's dragonspitter is the only weapon in the city capable of firing mismatched bullets? Why did the prosecution not identify the weapon until after they had already arrested Mistress Valethor? There are far too many things here that are merely conjecture, and the Alenthor family deserves better. They deserve answers, Your Honor. They deserve the truth."

The Magistrate leans forwards, listening to the Defense's protests; and then she turns her gaze towards the Proseuction's table. "I am willing to overlook Miss Valethor's question, for the moment, about why her sister would kill someone and then come to court. I am willing to countenance that she might have wanted to appear 'normal', precisely so just such a protest could be made," she begins. "But the Silver Guard raises good points. Where are these individuals? You have brought the witnesses from the Iron Kitchen, whom we have not heard from yet but I presume are here to describe how they saw a sorceress in white, leaving the alley where Lady Alenthor lay murdered."

As the Magistrate speaks, the door to the courtroom opens, and Bethany's sister Eveyln and her husband return, moving quietly back to their seats. The Magistrate glances in their direction, but makes no comment on it, and continues; meanwhile, a guard also enters, and moves quickly to whisper something in Knight Captain Norrington's ear.

"If you wish for this prosecution to continue, I will insist that you produce something a good deal more concrete, in keeping with Ser Seldan's and the other Defender's observations. Do you have anything you can provide?"

The Prosecutor gazes down at his hands for a moment, then at Delilah's pistol, still sitting on the table. He pauses for a long moment, before clearing his throat. "Your Honor if we could request a brief recess for--"

"No need," interjects Norrington. As the Prosecutor and Daverin both turn their eyes to him, the Knight Captain inclines his chin. "The prostitute, Ella, has been located."

"Where?" inquires the Prosecutor.

"She walked into the Guard Station," explains Norrington. "An hour ago. She's being brought here now."

Ashlee visibly relaxes after Seldan heals her. She nods at the instruction to see him later for the mending of her clothes. Clothes don't really matter to the mourner, that's obvious, she seems to be emulating coffin fashion. Still, despite the threadbare nature of her garments, the magic missile holes are the only ones in them.

She pushes two fingers through the holes, making them more obvious. "Bethany knows Delilah. She was shot in the front." There is a pause, as she states the obvious and lets it sink in. She points at Merek, the skeletal tattoos on her fingers bright under the court lights. "The Seer can explain the Blood Biography spell. Bethany was shot in the front. She saw the spell cast, saw the light of the missiles. Saw her attacker. Did not recognize her. This is also not explained."

The news that Ella has been found causes her to turn her head, "Oh, that's interesting." She takes her seat.

"It's possible," Merek would note with a nod along to the people while he thinks about it, "Also, what was done to her was overkill, at least one method was not needed. Why use two methods to kill someone unless you're trying to frame anyone."

At the Magistrate's answer, Donna's mouth falls open. "...Okay, good to know," she mumbles, dropping heavily into her seat and crossing her arms. "'Allow,'" she mouths, scowling.

And then it's said that Ella is found, and her sulk is wiped away. "They what."

"Most convenient," Seldan leans over and murmurs to the others as Ella is announced. "I would determine whether this is the real Ella, and whether she is being coerced. I have a means."

Elyanna settles in next to Ashes and carefully offers the bag back to her, "/Are you ok?/" she asks in softly spoken Goblin, eyeing the restored wound. She blinks and looks over toward the developments on the prosecutor's side. Seldan's appraisal of the situation warrants a Hobkin's nod and a, "Very. If all evidence was this convienient, I expect the Guard to be much wider of paunch. We should check on the child, barring magic, that would be the surest leverage." She frowns, "Odd that she would flee to Charn, only to run back here."

Merek's statement of multiple means being a mirror of her past musings prompts her to nod again in affirmation.

It takes a little bit of time for Ella to arrive; most of it spent talking to the chef and waitress from the Iron Kitchen, who indeed make the predicted statements; they saw a blond haired sorceress in white robes and hat, leaving the scene with Bethany laying in the alley in a pool of her own blood. Bethany's sister manages to stay put, this time, during the descriptions of her elder sibling's demise; but soon enough, the door opens and a pair of guards walk in, escorting a young human woman, with auburn hair and a rather low-cut black dress (possibly she only owns that sort, given her profession), who looks for all the world like she'd rather be literally anywhere else. She looks at Delilah, like she'd much rather be seeing literally anyone else.

But that moment passes all too quickly, as the door closes behind her, and she's escorted to stand beside the accused Sorceress, to face the magistrate.

"Please state your name, for the record," inquires Daverin.

"Ella Merry," she replies, quietly; and the halfling scribe notes it all down, naturally, as she has with everything else.

"I will remind you," the Magistrate replies, "That this court hears the charge of murder, against Miss Delilah Valethor. If she loses this case, she goes before the headsman. You understand the seriousness of these proceedings?"

Ella nods her head quickly. "I do, your honor."

The Magistrate steeples her fingers, and looks towards the Defender's table. "Please explain what it is you intend to do, Silver Guard, that I may determine if it is appropriate within this court."

"I would have Mistress Ella establish for the court Delilah's whereabouts on the evening in question, Your Honor. I see no need for lurid detail, for if any within this room lack understanding of such matters, there are doubtless plenty within the city who will cheerfully demonstrate the matter for a little coin." Somehow - somehow! - Seldan keeps his tone deadpan and conversational, the model of respect and courtesy.

Such is the paladin's resolve

Ashlee settles on her part on the bench, taking her satchel and placing it on her lap. She's slumped, exhales slowly. "I'm fine."

Various vermin are removed from her bag. A small mouse, which she tucks in the neck of her shirt. Her centipede, which she kisses and lets crawl into her hair. Chippen arranges himself across the crown of her head, like a headband, and wiggles his feet down to scratch her scalp. Her foster familliar, Carbuncle the little white lizard, who bites her nose when she tries to kiss him. This causes the Arvec Nar to laugh out loud. There's a lizard hanging off her nose! She crosses her eyes to stare at him, carefully unclips his jaws, and then he attaches to one of her ears. Inadvertant clip earring.

She watches as Zoey and the Chef testify, and daydreams of strudel. She has no questions. She stares at Ella Merry when she arrives. The woman is attractive; her profession makes sense. She watches Delilah's reactions upon seeing her, in case some emotions are betrayed. She can sympathize with the women who don't want to be present. The Silverguard's questions seem to cover it all. For no reason in particular, Ash puts her hand on Elyanna's thigh and squeezes it. "Thanks."

Stonefaced, Donna watched Elly mouse her way into the courtroom, and then next to Delilah. With all that's happened today, there is little hope in the brawler's heart, and she digs a knuckle into the top of the long table, as if reminding herself to keep her mouth shut, lest the quiet part become loud.

Elyanna listens to the proceedings, considers the trollop as she's brought in for testimony, weighing certain cues with her... past experience and she murmurs, "Someone should check for magic. Not just on the girl. She is reticent..." she strokes her chin a moment, "... but not pained. Other leverage could be in play."

Her glance at the stoic paladin, for... reasons, brings the wry quirk to her lips before her attention is taken by the hand on her leg and she holds for a moment, then nods, "/You're welcome./" she Goblins, quietly.

Merek seems to be a little bit content to watch people and listen. He doesn't offer a lot while he takes the time to think about it.

All eyes, of course, are now on Ella; including Delilah's, who is watching her very, very carefully. And, of course, keeping her mouth shut. For her to say anything at this point -- anything at all -- might be catastrophic, and she knows it. So she waits, gripping the railing she stands inside of, much the way Donna grips the table (albeit with less strength).

Ella turns to face Seldan, and clasps her hands in front of her. "At the start of the evening, Miss Delilah Valethor was in the Golden Plum," she replies to Seldan's question. "And, yes, she did appear in the common room and... and take me back to the suite she was renting, with her sister. And we did do... 'lurid' things, if that is what you wish to call it. I am not shy about the details of my profession, but if the court does not need those details, I am not to argue."

At the Prosecution's desk, the Mul'Niessa who has been pressing hard for Delilah's beheading leans back in his seat, and crosses his arms as he waits, with a sideways glance to Seldan but no comment given. Norrington looks on calmly, with one hand pressed to his cheek, giving him a somewhat lopsided look. Graves and Godswin all observe; as do Bethany's family. All eyes are on Ella; the court is practically holding its breath.

"How long were you there?" His point made, Seldan's tone softens, and he watches the woman intently.

Merek seems to be watching while he would listen and wait.

Merek's Arcane Sight has expired by now.

There was a suggestion, Elyanna's, check for magic. No one else seems to be doing that. Ashlee fingers the small holy symbol she holds in her hand, manipulating it with her thumb. There's a click as she shifts the scales. Under her breath she whispers, "Feiu of the Tears, let me see magic." The mourner's spells are simple and to the point. She touches her eyes with her thumb, symbol clutched from sight, and they start to glow.

This makes the skull markings on her face all the more eerie, as something sparkles in the eye sockets. She stares at Ella Merry some more, directly and unflinchingly. If she sees anything it is not shared right now. Her friend, the other hobgoblin beside her, is a weight that takes her thoughts to a darker place. She does ask the Silverguard a simple question, "Did you think it was Charn because you saw torture implements?"

There is magic for the mourner to see. Everyone at her table is showing some. Graves and Godswin glow, as does the Halfling Scribe. Something on her is magic. Norrington's sword is, that's for certain. Ella, however, Ella does not appear to have any items or magic about her.

Ghoulish cp line.png