Epsir

When the Flames Die

Wallace listened to the man's story with an idle look, occasionally looking aside to his papers and trying to piece things together. He had known about Lexine's death, but the actual details were more disconcerting. Then Thomas mentioned that she'd gone for a weapon in her boot, and a faint smile crossed his face. Not disconcerting, promising. Silence fell as Thomas finished his recounting, and Wallace was content to sit in it for a few moments as he mulled over the information he now held. What a coincidence, that Harker was among the list of names Thomas remembered meeting, why, he'd met one himself just after the festivities came to an end. Wallace stood up once more, done thinking. "Sir Jezin Tremora, before the court if you would." He saw the Lyoki delegation entering the hall, and deeply hoped he was correct in identifying the bodyguard. Things needed to get moving quickly. He reached along the table, taking up a handful of papers and a certain controversial billfold in one hand and sliding them over to his spot. "And you, Sir Thomas. Tell me about Tristan. She was carrying some peculiar information on her, what did you learn from your search of the body?"

When the Flames Die

As Thomas was brought up before the court, Wallace stirred in his chair, bringing a few papers closer to him on the desk before standing to address the man before him. The other members of the court mostly chattered off to the side, he'd used the few moments between Thomas being called and arriving to talk things over and put his plan to them. Few were prepared, and he suspected little resistance especially while he was regent. Assassination attempts were one thing but Cole bringing up misconduct charges was another. "Following the absence of the prosecuting party, Sir Redwyne Cole, in this chamber before the royal court of Keilaudrin, charges against Sir Thomas Morgan, Knight of the Order of the Thistle, of misconduct in the line of duty and conspiracy against the crown and royal family of Keilaudrin will be dropped." A silence cut across the room, killing conversation at the tables and setting the guards at the exits fidgeting. A few members of the court seemed mildly disconcerted with the bold move, and the worry on their faces grew as Wallace continued. "Instead, this trial will be conducted as an open investigation following an attempt on our king's life by members of a foreign military. Sir Thomas, your pardon, and then, if you would, your account of last night." He motioned broadly to one of the guards at the end of the table, who produced from under a cloth a garishly decorated writ of pardon and the sword Harmony in its scabbard. Canti sat down as the soldier marched forward, unfastening Thomas' manacles and presenting his 'gift' from the court on one knee.

When the Flames Die

He shook his head, holding the bridge of his nose as he roamed the halls. Wallace Canti was gravitating slowly towards the great hall, holding a sheaf of paper in one hand and his omnipresent notebook. Bothersome little things popping up all over, and all now for whatever reason. Two years of smooth sailing down the drain because of what? Karl Leid? The thought made him laugh aloud as he shambled towards the great hall. Preparations were already being made, he had painfully little to do in the wake of the regular guard. Wherever the king and his Thistle Knights were, they weren't serving a purpose right now and he had the fortune of being acting regent. A misfortune right now, because he had a tribunal to attend when he needed to be burying a corpse. Two corpses, if the news from his guardsmen was correct. Redwyne didn't deserve that, at least, it hadn't come from his offices. The great hall was still moderately occupied, that was fine he supposed because tribunals were open audience. Especially ones where the charges were about to be dropped, something he'd get away with what with the only man pressing them having recently expired. That was too convenient, and it made him uneasy as he took his seat as Regent at the table at the head of the great hall. As if by clockwork, the palace trumpet sounded, signalling the knights to fetch Thomas and bring him before the court. The other court members would arrive shortly, in fact a few of them got up from the tables to take their seats at the front of the room just then.

Outside of Thomas' cell, two soldiers of the guard appeared at the trumpet's sounding. "Your trial is starting, Sir Thomas, if you'll come with us" The lead man announced gruffly, gently slipping the dungeon key to the man's cell home in the lock. They went about their duty with grim faces, knowing full well the aptitude of the man they would be handling and wondering where the Order of the Thistle was at for something like this. His reputation was considerable, but confinement but a particular fight in men. They opened his cell, and made to bring the man out, gently lifting him from his place against the wall and allowing him a moment to gather his legs. Unfortunately for him, they were leaving his manacles on until he was before the court. With Thomas in hand, they made haste for the great hall.

When the Flames Die

Man I sure hope nothing CRAZY happened in my thread while half of my state was blacked out.

When the Flames Die

"Thank you kindly," the man said, turning away and leading towards the great hall. The din of the gathered crowd grew notably louder even as they traversed the throne room itself. "That is a shame, it's too difficult to go alone in the world. Unfortunately, this is not a very good place to be making friends." Wallace chuckled at the remark, being part of the political machine that it was in-fashion to deride the shrewdness of. Eventually they came upon one of the sets of doors into the great hall, secured by two of the regular guard who were watching the crowd inside with great interest. "I fear I must leave you here, Gareth. The security of this castle is one of my concerns, and I must continue to act to ensure that not only the assassins but all of the conspirators behind this dreadful act are brought to justice. Good evening, sir, may peace find you." The man smiled broadly and strode into the great hall, making his way towards the front of the room to chatter with the guards stationed there.

When the Flames Die

"And I am pleased as well, Gareth," the man said, opting to mime his other's form of address. "I knew the man myself, you see, worked with him some few years ago. An absolute shame what petty squabbles between nations will cause people to do." He shook his head, perhaps scolding the newer generation and the brashness they went at life with. Around him, the room was emptying, and he was taking notice. Time was just about up, the main congregation in the great hall would be expecting something more by now. Perhaps they had tangible showpieces already, he'd have to recall Sir Redwyne and ask. Finding the king was something that could wait for later. They'd more or less prepared for this. Wallace mulled over his words in silence for a moment, before saying, "Perhaps we should be making our way to the great hall, with the rest of them? I must return to my work, and I imagine someone like you has loved ones he needs to find. I am sorry for what we allowed to transpire tonight, but feel so relieved to see that all but one of our guests will walk away with their friends and family."

When the Flames Die

"I fear it is my job to pry, although by that I am to understand you knew the late Mr. Leid," He bowed his head a moment in silence, a gesture of respect for the dead man. "It would be... untoward to ask anything of you so soon, but might I ask your name that I may find you in later, better days?" He flashed his smile, pure starry white and broad as he posed his questions. Always with a smile. However many decades he'd kept this up for that was always the rule. The man's face blanked as he paused however, in affected surprise. "Ah, but where are my manners. My name is Wallace Canti, one mere adviser to the king." He looked over Gareth with an air of concern, checking to make sure he truly was as alright as he said. The guardsmen left the pair of them alone for the time being, handling the other people in the room and directing a few towards the great hall. They seemed to believe that Mr. Canti had things handled on his end. Whatever thunder there had been outside had stopped, and a few stray columns of smoke floated up into the night sky, illuminated by the lights of Mullen underneath them. Streaks of orange and yellow on the black sky, visible through the open doors of the throne room.

When the Flames Die

Wallace Canti stepped down from in front of the throne as the regular guard shuffled into the room from behind him and a few of their investigators began to ask around. He strode down the room, his dark blue coat trailing behind him as he swiftly made for the exit. A sight on his left stopped the man, a younger man propped against the wall and looking despondent. He recognized the youth as the one who had been conversing with Karl Leid in this room, when he had pulled Lexine aside. Young, faithful Lexine, the tin soldier. Such a shame she hadn't been at the feast, otherwise his job would have been easier. "Say now, that's no expression for youth to be wearing. Are you hurt, lad?" He offered a hand down to the boy, aiming to help him stand. What he had now was a front row seat to hard earned anguish and turmoil, but something was off. Unexplained absences. Perhaps someone who had an even closer seat than he would have the answers, although, he doubted anyone had seen Karl Leid in the past day.

When the Flames Die

Oh come on guys we're just getting started.

When the Flames Die

The throne room was mostly empty, save for a few other strays who had managed to make it into the palace before the guard managed most of the people into the great hall. They'd no doubt be there soon to correct things, but for the moment the empty throne room was as silent as a tomb. A slim, gaunt man sporting a short head of brown hair, too young for his age, stepped up in front of the throne and began to speak. His voice was a honeyed, croaking tone that seemed older than he, and he strained to make himself across the room even in its current state. "Valued guests, your attentions if you will." He smiled toothily. "In the interest of understanding and controlling the panic you no doubt feel, the guard wishes to explain what has happened tonight." The man on on the raised ground paused for a long time, making sure those in the throne room had time to either enter of gather themselves. "As it is, perhaps, already apparent to you, an assassination attempt on our beloved king has been thwarted and the rogues responsible for such an assault on our sacred peace are now apprehended successfully by the brave knights of our Order of the Thistle. Your safety is our concern, and to guarantee it I ask only your cooperation with our brave guardsmen, when they arrive." He bowed his head respectfully, waiting for whatever questions the few strays might have had.