EVENT #3: AN EXECUTION OF SORTS

[abraxasmods]

THE EXECUTION

As if performing a vicious mockery for what should be a somber day, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The rays of sun catch the iron brackets that hold up the gallows that have been erected overnight for the occasion, the gentle breeze causing the noose to swing ominously. Public executions do not happen frequently in Thorne, so a crowd gathers in strained anticipation of the grim sentence.

The welcome guests, who have up until this point been free to come and go within the confines of the castle, have been mandated to view the execution. It is meant to serve both as an example of Thorne’s power as well as a lesson to those who might think to try the same. The courtyard, which was buzzing with quiet murmurs, turns silent as Ambrose strides up the wooden steps of the gallows, flanked by two guards and a haggard-looking Jonathan Sims, arms bound behind him. As the guards march their charge to the trapdoor that will serve as executioner and position the noose around his neck, Ambrose turns to address the crowd that has gathered- willfully or not.

“Citizens of Thorne, our esteemed welcomed guests, it is with disappointment and a heavy heart that we’ve gathered to see to the execution of one of the very guests we sought aid from in our time of need. In a selfish and distrustful act, I was attacked, an action I cannot abide.”

He turns halfway toward his charge. “Jonathan Sims, you are charged with assault and intention of lethal harm. The punishment is to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

Ambrose raises his arm to signal the executioner to pull the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Jon’s feet, steely expression locked on the prisoner’s face one last time.

MEANWHILE

Several miles away, atop a hill in the forest, two figures meet between portals. Oliver, tall and lithe, steps out to stand next to a petite waif of a woman who looks at him with a familiar smile. Her voice is lilting like a songbird’s when she speaks up, turning her gaze back over the city.

“Find out anything good?”

He hums softly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Two dozen prisoners, give or take. The one I met was very grateful for our assistance.”

“That’s good. Perhaps her gratitude will endear our cause to them.”

With a nod, he takes a deep breath and then sighs. “It’s time, Elizabeth,” he says, lifting one hand to open a new portal.

She nods and raises her arms above her head, eyes closing in concentration. Her arms begin to glow green while the grass around her begins to ripple in rings. The very ground seems to surge with power that radiates outward from her, and it isn’t long before the castle and the town are engulfed in a heavy air of intense magic. It courses from her in shockwaves.

Satisfied, Oliver steps through the portal.



In the wake of the magic flood, the walls of the dungeons seem to shudder for a long moment, and the doors suddenly clink open. No guards come rushing in to shut them, and in fact, all ambient noise in the dungeons seems to stop as the whole of the people of Thorne freeze in place. The hall becomes lit by daylight as a portal opens at the end of it, showing them the crowd of welcomed guests and Jon alone on the platform.

In the portal, alone stands Oliver, hand offered to the prisoners in welcome. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, though this seems to be by nature rather than intention.

“Please come with me.”

CHOICES

Everything is happening quickly.

Once through the portal to the execution yard there's a moment of chaos and confusion at the sudden arrivals and then it stops. Everything and everyone has stopped, save for the guests, the prisoners, and the two mages who have come to their aid. Guards freeze in place. The attended mages are still as statues. Banners lifted by the wind remain where they are and even the noose hanging from the gallows stills.

"Time for them is halted." Oliver addresses the assembled, his voice projected to be heard but his tone calm. "It will remain so for one hour, no more. An hour is all you have to make your choices. Remain here in Thorne, or take a portal to either Solvunn or the Free Cities. The portals cannot be traced by the Thorean authorities, so no need to fear them giving chase.”

Elizabeth emerges from a portal behind him, which closes as she enters the yard. They both raise an arm and two white circles spread through the air, showing new towns in the distance on the other side. There is an ethereal glow around them.

“The Free Cities are martially powerful and seek to destroy the Singularity,” Oliver narrates, gesturing at one of the portals. “Solvunn is reclusive and claims neutrality, both in politics and in regard to the Singularity. I advise that you think hard about your choice. Travel between cities is not exactly easy."

He turns back to the crowd with an almost apologetic smile. “I'm sorry you don't have more time to make this decision. We’ll meet again.”

Opening a third portal with the wave of her arm, Elizabeth, who has not spoken a word, gives the group a wink and leaves with Oliver. Their portal closes behind them, leaving everyone to begin making moves.

Now is the time to make serious choices. Two portals stand in the courtyard, one courtesy of Oliver and one of Elizabeth. The Free Cities and Thorne are enemies, Solvunn watching both to see where the cards end up falling. None trust one another, none work with one another beyond trade through middle-men in Solvunn. The clock is ticking.

Someone should probably get Jon out of that noose.

Comments

Parting Remarks

[harmonian]

Sasarai doesn't have to think. Of course he will stay in Thorne. This kingdom has enough in common with Harmonia that he can survive here and if he can survive here he can use his cunning to prevent--

--To prevent further conflict.

That thought barely passes through him when a shadow sails over him to the platform, clearly intent on striking down the frozen Ambrose. Sasarai leaps to his feet and runs after Estinien, chanting loudly over the din of confusion around him. He has no love for Ambrose but if Ambrose is murdered it will cause chaos. Estinien might escape but the people of Thorne will demand the blood of someone and find a scapegoat, most likely one of the summoned. That would be just the start of the political unrest.

Deep inside him he feels the True Earth Rune stir and light radiates from the back of his hand as the Rune answers his call and throws a magical barrier out in front of Estinien, deflecting his attack.

It buys Sasarai enough time to slide on to the platform and raise his arms out. He's disheveled but his gaze is intense. Even from a distance he'd felt that blow land against his magic; full of shadow and fury.

There is no time to try to reason with this man, if he's hit by that sort of power directly he's dead. Instead, Sasarai promptly starts to chant again, focusing on his magic to raise a second barrier around himself and Ambrose. Rocks and pebbles start to rise into the air behind him.

(ooc: let me know if you need me to change anything here)

[nightwash]

Although Ronan had already taken his place on the platform, ready to defend Ambrose from anyone intent on charging, he's not quite prepared for the whatever that is that's heading straight for them. He's got VEXED TO NIGHTMARE in hand, but he's never had an opportunity to test his sun blade on anything equally magical. As he slides in front of Ambrose and raises his sword to defend, Ronan's also bracing for the very real possibility that he's going to suffer for it.

"Kylo!" he shouts — probably unnecessarily, as Kylo's not two yards away. He either knows what's coming without Ronan yelling about it or it's too late for him to do anything about it.

Thankfully, the thing never collides with Ronan. Or Ambrose. Ronan squints past the blinding light of his sword to try to catch a glimpse of what blocked the attack, just as a very small mage scrambles up onto the platform in front of him and starts chanting. Facing outward, not in. Defending, not attacking.

Good. Now Ronan's the second line of defense, not first. A towering figure compared to Sasarai, he slices a high and wide streak of sunlight through the air with his blade, obscuring himself and Ambrose behind it while the small mage prepares to do whatever he's going to do.

[photophobic]

It's oddly pleasant, hearing his name called like that— but Kylo is, as Ronan expected, already aware and prepared. The sword Ronan dreamt for him is in his hand the moment he senses the intent for attack, its fiery blade crackling to life. His stance is defensive, but he's certainly ready enough to launch into offence should the draconic creature be foolish enough to try its luck further.

Not that the blade is his only weapon, of course. Kylo flings out a hand, slamming his willpower behind a wave of concussive force aimed squarely at Estinien's approach to knock him back.

[vixening]

Yennefer had been prepared for there to be an attack on Ambrose, down at the bottom of the platform with her next wave of chaos ready. However, she doesn't exactly have a lot of time to react as the figure attacks Ambrose with a kind dark force that she doesn't think she has seen before, even from the most skilled of mages back on the continent. She also doesn't appear to be the only person stepping in to intervene, either, which is a relief.

She doesn't need to think on Ambrose, with two looming dark figures stepping between him and the attacker. Instead, she focuses her magic on the attack itself, even as a third figure comes into her focus, creating a kind of magical barrier that appears to deflect the attack, and Yennefer throws her own hands out to support it. Her magic pushes out from her towards the barrier, to try and redirect the force of the magic upward and away, acting as a second layer of magic to keep it from breaking through and pushing it outward. ​

With that out of the way, her focus comes back to the attacker, a figure she remembers seeing down in the cells. One of her hands lifts, her wrist rotating in such a way as to call her chaos back, concentrating it in a ball of light in her palm, preparing should he try that again.

[coerthantorment]

It's fortunate that his dragoon training required him to be as skilled on the dismount as he was on the attack, because this is more immediate resistance than he was hoping for. There's a lot of factors playing against him at the moment, the more disciplined part of his mind reasons. Though his dragon might has returned, it still has to be channelled through his weakened body. This attack, while familiar to him, is normally directed through a lance, not claws.

The destructive magic of Ala Morn tears long streaks of darkness across the surface of the barrier, but not enough to breakthrough. Sensing this, Estinien plants his feet against it instead, expertly maneuvering himself to launch himself away just as quickly as he approached - though the burst of force energy from Kylo Ren makes that descent less smooth than he was intending. He's thrown back violently but is able to collect himself from his free fall, landing on his feet and tearing lines across the ground as his momentum gradually slows.

Ambrose has many defenders today, it seems.

His tail thrashes angrily, a growl on his lips, hatred in his red eyes. After all of this, they would still stand guard for him? With the chance to leave right at their fingertips, they would choose to stay? Two of the men he knows to be 'guests' and the other must be as well. As for the woman... he could have sworn he saw her in the prisons. Either he's mistaken, or she's a damned fool.

The very thought of it causes the rancor to boil within his gut. They would wouldn't they, those men? An easy sacrifice, when it isn't theirs to make. He knows he doesn't have the time or strength for a prolonged fight, and he has more important things to do than try to attack a man who may be in a state that's unassailable. These people, though... the raw, toxic contempt he feels for them is enough to make him want to kill, just so he never has to see them again.

He may not be able to break through, he may not be able to kill them in the end, but he can try to make them hurt.

He lets out a howling roar of pure fury, a sound too vast and clamorous for his human size. It's not only that, though. It's a psychic attack that radiates towards them, one that could cause stone to crack and machinery to rend, and if not bound by physical barriers. It has defeated men by mere exposure before, but he doesn't know what defenses these otherworldy people may yet present.

This is a beast that has been caged too long.

[This is an attack called "Horrid Roar" which basically does concussive/psychic damage. It's shown in canon exploding robots and dropping mooks with a single hit, not that I expect it to play out that way here - mostly just to give an idea of its potential. Also, going forward I may tag out of order a bit if a person's tag demands a more immediate response from Estinien, just to keep things moving.]

[harmonian]

Sasarai exhales sharply as Estinien is thrown back by a blast of force from someone running up beside him, seemingly answering the call of the young man at his back.

A third figure is here now, too, a woman he hasn't seen before.

He's grateful for their help but there's no time to thank them, there isn't even time for a nod of acknowledgment.

Their attacker is still on his feet and now he is bellowing. Sasarai hears the roar in his mind and body as well as his ears; it is anguish and rage and white-hot fire that burns and lances its way into his very soul.

The True Earth Rune responds, filling his veins with a sensation like cool clay and he can feel its power keep his legs from buckling.

The barrier falls but Sasarai remains standing and focuses on chanting a new spell. He strides to edge of the platform, lifts an arm, and swings it out before him in a low, sweeping gesture.

Following his movement the ground near Estinien starts to rumble and large stones and rocks erupt from beneath the earth and roll towards him. The force of the miniature landslide is not enough to crush Estinien to death if it hits, but Sasarai hopes it will be enough to partially bury him or at the very least sweep him away from the platform and prevent any more terrible howling.

[nightwash]

What the hell is that sound?

"Jesus, Mary, mother of fuck."

It feels like a bomb just went off in his head. Ronan winces and claps his free hand over his left ear, but it's too late and it's not enough to stop the effect — not quite pain, but a fracturing. Stabbing his blade into the platform, he leans his weight on VEXED TO NIGHTMARE because he's sure he'll lose his balance otherwise. If nothing else, he can serve as a meat shield for Ambrose, at least until the disorientation passes.

(( You can skip Ronan for the next round of attacks. ))

[photophobic]

Accustomed to and trained in both psychic attack and the furious power seething in the Dark Side, Estinien's howl is more of a disorienting overload than anything wounding— and Kylo's instinctive, blinded response is to turn it back on its master. Lashing out with a broad sweep of his hand, Kylo hurls the incoming force aside as he staggers the short distance to place himself as shield in front of Ronan.

"Keep your focus," he exhorts him with a hiss past his teeth, squaring himself to face, bear and deflect further attack, should it come. Beyond the words, if he reaches for Kylo with his thoughts Ronan may just be able to hear the unspoken: I've got you.

[vixening]

A damned fool. Yennefer knows what she is doing, knows what she has to accomplish to persuade her way out of the cells themselves. She had needed a way to cement herself as an ally, rather than an enemy, and she'd need something big enough to make it obvious.

Honestly, Yennefer does not hate Estinein like she probably could. If anything, she's almost grateful for it - a scene to prove where she stands, and a reason to use the power she's been cut off from for too long. Too long. Like a dam that had been building for too long, she is just looking for a reason. Anything she can do, just to let it go. Estinien just happens to be that perfect reason.

The amount of magic contained in that single sound catches her, forces her to take a single step back until she can get her bearings. But once she has them, Yennefer's jaw settles, her control over herself centered back. She moves - quickly, because if she doesn't, this will all be for naught, and centers herself in the brunt of Estinien's attack, throwing her hands up and exploding a barrier right back on it.

Her goal is to deflect the brunt of the power off, similar to what she had done before. The power of it is different, stronger, and it takes more out of her to push back, and with the effort it takes to push back, Yennefer feels herself screaming back, her hands thrown out as she pushes back against the brunt of the roar. Back to the attacker, if she can manage it, but more specifically just away from the platform.

[coerthantorment]

Though he gains some satisfaction from their flinches and resistance, it's now that the superior numbers against him become most obvious. None of the other escapees seem interesting in helping - more interested in breaking loose and finding freedom than taking revenge. Maybe he should take a hint from that, a deeper part of him wonders, but the rest can't help but feel a pang of resentment as the feeling.

He's the only one who will do this, he thinks with a clarity and familiarity that is almost violent. He's the only one who will do what needs to be done. He's the only one of his brethren that will take justice.

The staggering rancor of the sentiment shakes him for a moment, sourced from a place both personal and ancient. It staggers him, in the same instant that the fight turns on him. The power of his roar has been interrupted, diverted away from those he would hurt and back in his direction. While it doesn't wound him - it comes from within him, after all - it is a distraction when he needs it least.

The rocks he could deal with - he's familiar with these sort of attacks. His roar comes to a halt as he is forced to move, nimbly aiming to jump over them and away from any retribution. As it turns out, however, that's not the only thing he's contending with. Kylo Ren's's wave of force truncates his escape, snatching away the opportunity to smoothly dodge what's coming.

He collides with one of the boulders, just as another crashes into his back from behind, smaller shards of stone quick to follow. He shrieks, but this time without magical force - it's from pain, plain and simple. He can sense the tides turning against him, and as much as he craves the High Mage's blood, he knows he can't risk being taken out and recaptured.

With another cry of exertion, dark destructive magic bursts from his body, shoving the stones away from him - but not before the impact leaves him flinching and clutching his ribs. He turns to the four defenders, his eyes blazing red.

"ARROGANT WRETCHES...! YOU WILL FALL ALONGSIDE YOUR MASTERS!"

Much like his roar, the words seem bigger than his body, as if spoken by the great beast lurking within. Yet, despite the fury that claws at his heart, he turns to leap through the portal, back to the dungeons and away from Ambrose's faithful.

Their time will come.