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

[vixening]

[ it's a complicated situation, isn't it? that yennefer can rely on old, learned ways to display her distate towards a person, though honestly she doesn't care much at all if he's an elf or something else. at the moment, he is in her way. and taking up her time. and there's a shift in him too, at the word - something she doesn't quite expect. a sort of familiarity, but comforting.

her eyes goes to the clothes in his arms, and then back to his face, eyes narrowing. because for all the question appears quite harmless - he is, after all, just asking what she's doing. during a tense, limited time window where decisions are key.

and yet, yennefer feels almost defensive. ] You can ask all you like, but they are none of your concern. [ she looks, once more, to the clothes in his arms and then back to him, her brow arching. ] If you are looking to leave Thorne, I suggest you do so quickly. Those portals will close soon.

[extremethirst]

Aw, guess I'll accept that, then.

[ The tone in his voice says that if there wasn't a time window that he would definitely hound her about what she thinks that she's doing. However, the tone has a lightness to it that indicates he would only be doing it to harass her for fun versus actually truly caring what her reasons might be. ]

You're so kind to be worrying about me! [ Laughter continues to dance in his eyes; he also notes how she looks at the clothes in his arms. He takes in her own attire which does mark her to be a prisoner.

Funny. Really funny. ]

Want a free dress? I'm just giving them out so -- [ His head bobs side-to-side in a way that says, "Come on, and take one. You know you want to." It's a playfulness that shouldn't be there given her hostility, given the magic that she wields, but it is there.

It doesn't seem to be bravado; he doesn't seem to think she can't hurt him, but rather a burning need in him, too. Since he is also always looking for a reason, but both of them have the same problem. Nero won't kill unless the circumstances are right, and she won't kill unless attacked.

And what are the right circumstances? There is only one, presently, that can be employed. A person that he has aligned himself with orders him to kill her. It isn't just that they are fighting her; they have to specifically tell him that they want her dead.

Why such a convoluted process? Because he likes putting that burden in the hands of the righteous. He likes hearing them say they want someone dead for their own morality, for their own justice, for their own ideals. It sullies them in a way that they will never know and it makes Nero so very happy.

But anyway! That, unfortunately, does not appear to be likely to happen.

What an impossibly sad impasse for the two of them!! ]

You look like green would look best on you. [ Nero continues, looking through his dresses. ] Do you not like to show a lot of chest? Too bad, they're all cut low!

[vixening]

[ she snorts as he accepts that, then, if only because they are both extremely aware that in any other circumstance, that would not stop him. whether or not she knows this elf, the feeling of his need to bother and annoy is fairly obvious. she supposes she should be thankfully that isn't something she has to worry about, as the window of time seems to be creating that pressure for her.

and somewhere, in addition to that, is yennefer's own understanding of their impasse. that for all his 'jovial' attitude, there is something there that she can't quite make out. a power, but something more complicated. like a caged animal who is choosing to remain inside, even with the doors open, though the violence and feral nature is still hanging somewhere in the air. she doesn't suppose that image works as well, here, now that they've been allowed to leave, but something about him is more than just his obnoxious laughter and shallow bravado.

she is curious, but not curious enough. and certainly not for whatever it is that's possessed him to...what? raid some poor thorean woman's closet and steal her dresses? yennefer, glancing once more at the green dress he seems to be implying and then back to him with an incredibly well-crafted look for disappointment and boredom, says easily, ] Why wouldn't I? I went through too much to bother hiding them. [ pain. she went through too much pain. but he doesn't get to know that. ] And actually, I look best in all colors, but I'm not taking that one.

[ her timer is running low for this conversation, but if he pulls out something purple or black, there may be a chance she'll consider taking it. even if she's already turning to walk away and leave the conversation entirely, obviously done with him, and this. ]

[extremethirst]

I got no idea what that means, sweetie. [ And, it doesn't seem like she is going to explain what she means either. He can only imagine the meaning behind her saying she went through a lot for her tits. Well, he can imagine other men -- and women -- would go to war for them. ]

Aw, come on.

[ His voice turns to a whine. And just like that -- the mood between them shifts from the violent explosion that could have happened to a comedic display that Nero puts on for no one but himself. ]

You can't keep carrying on while looking like a beggar in a potato sack. [ The elf is playing around while his window is closing. He is tempting fate while acting like a clown and fool, and he thinks she is trying to show him a small meager piece of kindness in trying to end the conversation quickly with him. ]

Hold on, hold on. [ He digs through the pile before finding a purple dress. ] What about this one?

[vixening]

[ no, she is not going to explain. she doesn't know who this elf is or what his game is going to be. she doesn't have time, either, to entertain him for too much longer. calling it kindness may be going a bit too far, but yennefer does intend to end this conversation quickly. mostly because while she doesn't have a window she needs to act within, she is losing her patience, quickly.

her temper does flair, briefly, at the beggar comment, but he pulls out a dress quickly enough that her attention shifts away from imminent death towards the fabric in his hands.

she doesn't hate it, but also has no intention of letting him know that. ]

If I take the dress, will you leave?

[extremethirst]

Yup!

[ His word comes up quick and sharp. He smiles wide at her as he holds the dress out to close the distance even more between them; to make it easier for her to take it. ]

The joke doesn't work if I still have clothes left to give. [ Nero offers a wide smile. ] Don't worry, sweetie, you're not the one I'm making fun of here. [ The elf gives her a quick wink before directing his eyes back up toward the stocks where Jon was just about to hang. ]

[vixening]

[ her eyes go from the wide smile to the dress again, before feeling them roll back in her head as she snatches it from him. she doesn't know what the joke is supposed to be, but if he so much as moves in a direction she doesn't like, yennefer supposes she could just kill him. ]

Well? [ she does notice the way his eyes go to the stocks, to the platform, and while she is suddenly very curious - she is also, aggressively, not interested. not in him, not in this. the dress she can choose if she wants to keep later, once she is rid of him, and her brow arches - unimpressed. ]

I believe you were leaving.

[extremethirst]

Yup, yup.

[ His chin bobs down once, twice, as he waves his hand in wishing her a fond farewell. He bends slightly at the waist to give her breasts a small wave, too. ]

Sorry, I didn't get a chance to know you girls. [ His hand rests against his mouth as he blows a kiss. ] Take care of yourselves -- and you, too, sweetie.

[ It's really nice to be at zero with someone; it's honestly refreshing to start out hated. Since, in his mind, the only way up is to be hated more; he doesn't think there is any chance to be liked.

And honestly, very smart of the little witch.

Nero begins to laugh to himself, as he shuffles off, so that he can find more people that he can force clothes upon. ]