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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

A Final Return (ATT Judge and Open to WT/WY)


JainFarstrider

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The sun was reaching its zenith, warming the land and forcing the last holds of frost back into the shadows of the world, to await the return of night’s chill. Gleaming like the surface of calm seas, the Tower stood watch over the land, a sentential of hope in an ocean of bleak dreams.

Under that tower, faced with the visual proof of something greater than themselves, travelers to the tower felt as the ants that walk the earth. This was no exception for one man crossing the bridge from Alindaer to Tar Valon as he had done for the first time years ago.

 

Nothing had changed in the city, Guards still moved across the shining walls, fish still swam in the river below and people still moved about on their ever important errands, but for Elyan, everything was different. On his last trip he was arriving under desperation, in hope of finding a new beginning, a chance to escape his past. He had been a cowering paranoid child. Today he reached the tower in a quite different situation, Tar Valon was no longer a beacon for a new life, but for one of judgment, of resolution, calling him to discard his mask and accept himself for who he was and what he had done. Before Elyan had been cautious, unsure of every step, as he made his way into a new and promising world, today he marched to justice and likely his own execution. His feet never wavered.

 

The knowledge of what he was and what he had become had finally penetrated through his armor of denial. He no longer had any reason to hide from the truth, the blasted murdering ruffians had seen to that when they discovered the hiding place of him and his mother. Now, for all the Guard had done for him, they deserved an explanation, and what justice he could give them, for Elyan felt he had wronged them the most.

 

He was weaponless, still wearing the tattered rags that he had fled the tower in, when he approached the gate at the end of the bridge. Bare feet padding softly on the paving stones, he had lost the shoes months ago and refused to steal another pair. The time for making excuses for himself, including for the theft of some honest man’s boots, had passed. Even if he could, he would not face the Guard in stolen clothing. Despite the state of his attire, Elyan walked the stride of a man sure in his resolve and of one who knew what he must do.

 

State your business… Sir,” grumbled one of the guards, grip tightening on his spear as he moved to block Elyan’s path. Elyan stopped and did not try to maneuver around him.

 

My name is Elyan Marne, I am a thieving, murdering, lying traitor, who seeks justice for his crimes,” The eyes of the guards widened with surprise, “As I have formerly been a trainee for the Tower Guard, it is them whom I seek it from,” Elyan stated clearly, trying to force a smile that may have appeared like a mocking smirk. “You may escort me if you wish

When they finally reached the grounds, Elyan was starting to recover his clarity. He thought he was just being honest, the guards must have taken it as mockery, at least they had been so kind as to take him to his destination. The chains were starting to chafe his wrists, not the only spot that was showing red through the caked dirt.

 

At last he had returned, raising his head and straightening, finally it would be time to lay down his burdens.

 

Note: I may be mistaken, but I don’t believe that the Tower Guard also guard the gates of Tar Valon and that the city has its own military force. That may be incorrect, but this post was written as if they were separate.

Edited by JainFarstrider
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Thera strode purposefully through the Yards, outstripping the Guards who were supposedly leading her to their destination. She must have looked ready to murder anyone who got in her way, for everyone, trainees and Guards alike, scurried from her path. She ignored them, as she always did, and kept moving forward, read cloak flowing behind her. Often times in her position as the Mistress of Trainees, she was forced to do things that she would rather not do. Punishments delivered from her hands were always for the benefit of whomever was getting punished, but that still didn’t make them pleasant. And today was no exception.

 

She had been sitting in her office, doing her best to ignore the paperwork which sat in front of her, when a messenger had rushed in. “Ma’am, come quick! The City Guard have apprehended a man who claims he is a murderer, and was trained in the Yards! He says wants a trial!” Thera pushed back in her chair and got up. In a stern voice, she said “Calm down. I need you to grab a handful of Guards and tell them to meet me outside my office. You are not to tell anyone about this. If someone asks, tell them if they want to know they can ask me. I highly doubt anyone would be stupid enough to bother me.” With a wave of her hand, she sent the messenger running.

 

And now Thera found herself walking towards the gatehouse where the man was being kept, not sure of just what would await her. She pushed the door back, and walked inside. To her left stood two City Guards, looking worried as they often did when surrounded by Tower Guards and Warders. Sitting on a stool between them, decked out in chains, was a dirty man in rags. Thera thought the man looked familiar, but he was too disheveled to tell. Grabbing a chair from the small desk next to the door, she sat down, looking the man in the eye. “I hear you wanted to be judged by the Tower Guard. Well, here I am. You had better explain yourself, and tell me why we shouldn’t skip the trial and just hang you right now for the murders you confessed too?”

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“I hear you wanted to be judged by the Tower Guard. Well, here I am. You had better explain yourself, and tell me why we shouldn’t skip the trial and just hang you right now for the murders you confessed too?”

 

A small smile crept on to Elyan’s face, Thera would never change, always straight to the point, perhaps this would be wrapped up before dusk.

 

Elyan tried to get to his feet as she entered, which was difficult while chained, but was forced back onto the stool, where he decided to stay this time.

 

“My apologies Mistress Thera,” he began, eyes fixated on the wall in front of him, “I did not wish to be a burden to you on such a wonderful day,” He swallowed, his determination was beginning to wane with her stare upon him, and began anew. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding, I did not ask for a trial but for justice,” Elyan stated sharply, meeting her eyes for just a moment, “I have wronged many people and the Tower more than most,” his anger at his faltering resolve providing the fuel for his voice, “If the Tower wishes to see me hang, then I know where the gallows are, let us be there without delay.”

Elyan Marne

Trainee

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Icar tried to make his presence as noticeable as the walls of the gatehouse. He had been sent there by a Guardsman to warn the Guards within to make the place ready for a Murderer to be questioned. After his mission was finished, they had ignored him and he slid himself into the shadowed background. He was curious about this murderer. Thoughts of his mothers killer popped into his head. Could this be the end of it all? He could leave the Tower, go back to Deena.

 

Icar did not recognize the man they dragged into the gatehouse and threw into a wooden stool. Icar did not know how long they waited, the City Guards shifting nervously from foot to foot. He tried to quietly edge his way to get a better look at the man in chains, but the door opened and the Mistress of Trainees entered. Icar shrank back further. He had never been to see her, and for that he was grateful. Icar noticed the prisoner attempt to stand, perhaps in defiance, but the chains prohibited it and forced him back to his seat. She pulled up a chair and sat down before the prisoner.

 

“I hear you wanted to be judged by the Tower Guard. Well, here I am. You had better explain yourself, and tell me why we shouldn’t skip the trial and just hang you right now for the murders you confessed to?” Her voice was like an iron whip. Icar felt dazed. The prisoner had confessed to murder? Who was this man?

 

The prisoner began formally, if a little too familiar when addressing the Mistress of Trainees, in Icars mind. “My apologies Mistress Thera, I did not wish to be a burden to you on such a wonderful day. It seems there has been a misunderstanding, I did not ask for a trial but for justice, I have wronged many people and the Tower more than most. If the Tower wishes to see me hang, then I know where the gallows are, let us be there without delay."

 

Icar did not know how long the silence lasted. He only knew that he did not have enough training to defend himself if this man suddenly attacked. The words he had said had cut him on some deeper level than he thought possible.

Edited by Toy and Minion
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Thera stared at the young man in front of her. Although he looked like a dirty beggar in chains, his words were nothing like the rabble that could normally be found in the gutters. “My apologies Mistress Thera I did not wish to be a burden to you on such a wonderful day. It seems there has been a misunderstanding, I did not ask for a trial but for justice. I have wronged many people and the Tower more than most. If the Tower wishes to see me hang, then I know where the gallows are, let us be there without delay.” This man was made of stern stuff, to talk so openly of the gallows. This spirit was something that Thera had seen less and less of in the men and women who came to the Warder’s Yard for training, and she would not waste a man such as this on the gallows if there was not real cause.

 

Putting her hands under her breasts, Thera stared straight into this man Elyan’s eyes. “You came here looking for justice, and if you recall anything from your time here, we believe in justice by rule of law. You will have a trial, whether you like it or not. The gallows maybe your ultimate destination, but I will be damned if a man is hung in these Yard’s without having a chance to defend himself.” Gesturing to the two guards standing next to him, she stood up. “Take this man to get cleaned. He smells like a latrine, and if a man is to face the gallows, let him do so looking his best. I want him in a trainee uniform, and ready to be tried within the hour.” The guards hauled him to his feet, and walked him out the door.

 

Thera turned to the trainee who was attempting to stand in the shadows. “I don’t know what you think you are doing, but your presence was not asked for here. We will discuss your punishment for eavesdropping later, but in the meantime, I have tasks for you. I want you to go and prepare one of the mess halls for a trial. There will need to be one table for me to sit at as judge, and a chair for the accused to sit. You will be acting as my page during this trial, and will do whatever I ask. I will also require you to gather any records of this man from the register of the Tower Guards. Go to my office, you will find someone there to help you. Now move out!” The young man ran out the door, eager to be about his tasks. Thera stayed in the gatehouse for a moment, gathering herself. This day, a man’s life was in her hands. She prayed to the light that she would have the wisdom to make the right decision.

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Elyan almost protested when Thera insisted on having a trial but knew better than to argue, he held his tongue and offered no resistance as the guards dragged him to his feet and out of the gatehouse. Thera had demanded that he be ready for trail within the hour, but Elyan had doubts things would move so quickly and was beginning to regret returning to the tower to seek justice, perhaps it would have been better to venture alone into the blight, and take on as many foes as he could before they overwhelmed him. Shaking himself of those dark thoughts, Elyan had returned to the grounds and this is where he belonged.

 

During his training there he had never been able to get the washroom to himself and now that he was branded a criminal he had all the privacy he needed, except for the guards standing watch over him. Though he was thankful they let him do the scrubbing himself, even if they did leave him chained, the alternative would not have been a pleasant experience. He quickly finished bathing and dressed in the trainee uniform that was brought to him, then the rest of Thera’s hour was spent being herded into one room after another until finally the courtroom was prepared and they were allowed to enter.

 

He had not seen anyone enter the room before him, but the mess hall was almost half full. He scanned the audience as his escort led him up to the front of the room. There appeared to be people from all over the tower gathered here, he saw Servants, Warders some of the Guard and even a few Aes Sedai spread about the room. Again Elyan thought of how he had not even been worth their notice when he was only a trainee, maybe he should confess to crimes more often.

 

The gravity of the situation began to sink into his bones as the clack of the chains he wore drew the attention of the crowd, now that most of their eyes were on him he didn’t find much humor in the situation. He wanted to run from all those stares, crawl inside a hole and never come back, but he was here and he would see this through. It took all of his resolve not to stare shamefully at the floor, he kept his head up but kept his eyes away from the crowd. Elyan did not want to appear defiant, but he also didn’t want them to think he was intimidated, he knew he was doing to right thing and they would not make him regret returning.

 

After he was seated at the front, it seemed an eternity before anything happened, but Elyan remained as still as stone, staring off over the crowd. The quiet conversation had continued, but he could still feel their eyes on him. He tried to focus on gathering his thoughts, preparing what he might say to the questions Thera would ask, but he could not ignore the feeling of being examined, every inch scrutinized for malformations. After another turning of the wheel, the door swung open once again.

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The man was lead away and the Mistress of Trainees looked right at Icar. He nearly jumped.

 

“I don’t know what you think you are doing, but your presence was not asked for here. We will discuss your punishment for eavesdropping later, but in the meantime, I have tasks for you." He struggled to point out that he was in fact sent there, but she continued without pausing. "I want you to go and prepare one of the mess halls for a trial. There will need to be one table for me to sit at as judge, and a chair for the accused to sit. You will be acting as my page during this trial, and will do whatever I ask. I will also require you to gather any records of this man from the register of the Tower Guards. Go to my office, you will find someone there to help you. Now move out!”

 

Icar saluted and rushed out, trying to remember everything she had told- ordered him to do. A mess hall. He needed to find one of those. What were they? He was scrambling, and he did not know why. Was it the Mistress who had him on edge, or the prisoner? Perhaps both.

 

He ran to the nearest mess hall and was thankful it was empty. Grabbing a table he pulled it across the floor and sat it perpendicular to the others in the hall, but with plenty of space between them. Grabbing a chair at random he plopped it in the center of that space. He did not know if he needed to move the rest of the tables or chairs. He supposed they would be used by those attending the trial, so he left them.

 

What was next? Records. Records of who? He did not even know the mans name. Unwilling to face the Mistress before his tasks completed, he rushed to her office. Did he even know where it was? Yes. He had passed by it many times on his way to the Yard. She had said someone would be there to help him. He hoped so, because he was barely above water as it was. Reaching the door he knocked on it quickly.

Edited by Toy and Minion
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Thera waited patiently in the in a room near the make shift courthouse. She was reading the documents that the young trainee Icar had retrieved for her, even if it had taken much longer than necessary. She had passed a book keeper, Aren, on her way over who had relayed the story. The graying old man was a particular favorite of hers, and she smiled as she recalled their most recent interaction. Ahh, Mistress Thera, how good to see you! I hope all is well in the Yards, I just had a very excited visitor stop by the records asking for the files of another young man by the name of Elyan. All out of breath he was, banging on my door as if we were under attack! I let him into the records room, and sat him on a chair while I searched for the file he needed. All fidgety he was, unable to sit still and looking as if he was sitting on tacks. It was so funny to me that I decided to play the fool, and kept bringing him the files of trainees long since moved on. Every time I did so he would grow all upset, and I would say “Oh bother, my eyes just aren’t what they used to be” and go back to searching. Eventually I brought him the right file, and as soon as it was in his hands, he was off, running out the door without so much as a “thank you.” You tell that young man to watch his manners, and learn how to take a joke!

 

A knock on the door told Thera that everything was ready, and so it was time to stop day dreaming. She steeled herself for the trial ahead, smoothed out her coat, and strode through the door and into the mess hall. It looked nothing like the happy place everyone gathered at during meals. Instead, there were silent people floating around the edges of the room, all eyes on her and the man in chains sitting at one of the tables. She walked over to the head table, and sat down. She took out a dagger with a large flat handle, a gift from a friend, which she would use today as a makeshift gavel. There was no need to bang it down, since the room was already quiet, but she did so anyways. The loud noise filled the large room, seeming to echo off the high corners, and thus the trial began.

 

“Elyan Marne, you sit here today to face judgment on crimes you have committed against the Tower Guard. The court recognizes that you came here willingly and of your own accord, and will take that into consideration when determining your fate. You say you have committed murder and treason, and you very well may have, but I wish to hear your story first, to understand what has happened. Your are ordered to tell the court everything about the circumstances for your leaving the Tower, and why you did the things you say you did. Stand up, and proceed.”

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Elyan had gotten to his feet when Thera had entered the converted mess hall and remained standing until she was seated. He had just gotten back on the chair when called to his feet to relay the story. He stood again, more slowly this time, the weight of the chains not the only thing that he felt burdening him. Giving Thera a questioning glance, he didn’t think this trial was necessary, but wondering how the woman had known his real name was the true motive behind his stare. Having given the name Keladirn when he first came to the tower, and not having any indication that the tower knew the truth, hearing his rightful name came as cold shock. He was not surprised that Thera knew more than she showed, but he thought this had been a well kept secret, but if she knew that, what other facts did she possess. The icy stare that Thera offered in return was quick to remind him that his questions and concerns were not of importance here and dismissing thoughts of objection, Elyan opened his mouth to spin his tale, but what would the audience think of it.

 

He paused only for a moment before starting his story, a small sigh and then he began speaking. An unending stream of words, monotone, sounding almost rehearsed but not quite. Elyan spoke as one telling a reoccurring nightmare, one that had been lived so many times that it had lost its effect, he felt almost removed from his voice. His gaze remained constant at the far end of the room.

 

“I came to Tar Valon a hunted man, fleeing from predators come to collect on a sizeable bounty, one that did not list a reason for the capture of a small boy, but mercenaries seldom need reason to work for gold. As for the actual reason, I am not sure my own self, something concerning a bastard son of nobleman not being good for ones reputation. It was these men that I had been running from, the same that found me again before I left two years ago. Perhaps my reason for leaving was simply that it was what I was used to, always before I had fled upon discovery. Partly it might have been that I did not want the Tower to be found sheltering a fugitive, but I believe my main reason for leaving was that I had become exhausted. Weary from the tireless chase of my pursuers, I wanted to be free from my past, and as long as the tower sheltered me, I would always be haunted. While I remained here, I could not face my demons. So I left, practically running all the way to Caemlyn, taking odd jobs here and there anything for a night’s rest and a bit of food. I had vowed to myself that I would not resort to my old habits, I would not take something I hadn’t earned. That all changed when I reached my destination, after a few months of searching I finally found her. My mother had been thrown out of the nobles house, not long after I first came to the Tower, and had been living on the streets treated worse than a dog, she accepted whatever anyone would give her and whatever they would take. That was when I first broke my vow, I pilfered a few items clothing, food, blankets and forced my way into an abandoned house where I could care for her. I thought we would not be discovered living on the street with no connections, but as they had followed me to the tower they followed me back to Caemlyn. It was night when they came, it lasted only for a moment, but soon four of them lay on the floor, never to rise, and I was in chains. That night never seemed to end as the next few days were spent in darkness. Finally, I was led on to a ship and chained next to others, before beginning our voyage down the river. One of the fellow prisoners informed me that the man who had first issued the bounty was now unable to pay it and had to renege on the offer. It was weeks before we were let off the ship, to some unknown lands only to discover we were the captives of slavers” Elyan allowed himself a brief pause, the story only got worse from here.

 

“We stayed in the camp for several weeks, it was not long before they discovered my uses, and how best to manipulate me. My mother, was in poor health, and the way they treated her made me sick to the stomach, I took the lives of two more to make them stop, but they didn’t. As awful as it was, they let her live, as long as I worked for them. For over a year I did all matter of horrible deeds, murder, theft, destruction of buildings, assassinations, I tried to resist, I could tolerate the punishment,” His hand moved to his side unconsciously massaging one of the scars, “but I couldn’t bear to watch what else they did. It was worse anytime I tried to stop them.” Taking a moment to collect himself before continuing.

 

“That wasn’t even the worst of it. Men, women, children, husbands, wives, mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, sisters, bothers, friends, lovers, all had their lives taken from them by me, at my own choosing. There was no rest in that camp, no escape, and being there was the worst life a person could have. Some of them begged me, calling me a savior as I choked the life out of them, blessing me as I strangled their loved ones. Others I murdered before they could be taken to the camp, a quick death to spare them spending the rest of their lives in torture. The slavers did not like that, and I paid the price telling myself it was for the best. Finally it happened, whether she hung herself or one of the slavers suffocated her I am not sure, but my mother died right before one of my assignments, I wasn’t supposed to know and they were going to kill me once the job was done. I didn’t finish the job, once I had my hands free and was given a weapon I exacted my revenge, some of them got away but at least the captives were free. I spent the following weeks drifting between groups of hired merchant guards, daring bandits to attack the caravans, I was full of rage and wanted blood not caring whose. After being relieved on account that I was too eager to get into a fight, I found myself back on the street without any place to go when I remembered the promise I made to myself. I swore to return when I had faced my past and had become a better man, only half of that was true, but I vowed to let the Tower decide my fate and at least some of the lives I have taken will see justice.” Elyan finished with a soft sigh. “It is plain to all here that I am the worst kind of scum to draw breath, so do not draw this out longer and give me judgment.”

 

Elyan finally looked out over the crowd gauging the reactions to his story.

 

OOC: Feel free to interject wherever you wish. Also, while I do not wish my Elyan to be executed, I also do not want him to get away with things that he shouldn't. Do as you see fit.

 

Elyan Marne

Trainee

Edited by JainFarstrider
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Icar stood beside and slightly behind the Mistress of Trainees as she sat, banging a dagger on the table for order that had already been enabled. What did a page do, anyways?

 

He had not been able to take his eyes off of the prisoner, this Elyan Marne. The man unsettled him. Something familiar, unwanted familiarity. As he listened to Elyan's words, he found himself walking in that mans shoes. They had lived separate, different lives; Elyan without a family, Icar with one, if a very distant father. Elyan had struggled through life, always being on the bottom, while Icar struggled, but always seemed to find someone to support him.

 

Those were some differences. But the similarities were far more revealing. They were both hunted, both did what they had to do for the only family they had or knew of. Icar saw himself making those same decisions, those same mistakes, the same irredeemable acts.

 

Would this be Icar? Would he be forced to make such decisions for his sister? If so, would he have the courage to accept punishment for his crimes? It became a much more unwanted revelation, if this man was indeed the one who had killed Icars mother. It forced him to ask a question of himself, Who are you, Icandar Tostig?

Edited by Toy and Minion
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Of course he was late. He had spent the afternoon haggling with the City Watch for the custody of a trainee who thought to sneak out of the yards and get himself into a live steel duel in a back alley. Worse still was the trainee was good, much better than the drunk sailor the duel was with. When he returned to the yards the trial was already underway and Sandre Kaldun walked to the mess hall used for trials on these type of days. The trainee would of course wait for Thera to be done in there before facing his own punishment. (So Elyan is back.) he thought to himself as he crossed the yards.

 

He intended to be as quiet as possible for a man of his size. Would Elyan even recognize him? Sandre had put on more muscle, a deeper tan, far more scars, was a foot taller and cut his hair short. Sandre shook his head. (No... he left when I needed his friendship the most.) Yet when he opened the door to the mess and swept his cloak back over the shoulders of his plate and chain armor he met the man's gaze and the recognition was instantaneous. Sandre's anger melted away. He gave only a quick nod before finding an empty bench near the front. He did not bother to look at Thera who was likely giving him "the look" that usually terrorfied trainee and Tower Guard alike but he shot her a quick grin as he sat down. The one she had referred to as his "cocky know it all" grin. She loved that one.

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Thera listened to the story of Elyan Marne. What had happened to the man was horrific, and though she wished to say something at points, she kept her face smooth. She could not act as a person while sitting in her chair, for she was judge, and not a person at all. She represented higher ideals here, those of justice and redemption. And so she sat, passive, as the young man told his story of capture, his time as an unwilling sword, and how he had set the others free. It was as dark a story as one was likely to here, and as he spoke Thera heard gasps among the crowd. Slavery was forbidden in every country, but dark friends followed no laws, and there was no act so evil that they would not commit it. Lies, theft, even murder, they would do anything as long as it furthered their goal of releasing the Dark One.

 

As Elyan spoke, more and more people entered the room. People loved a good show, and unfortunately a trial and possible execution offered just as much entertainment as a gleeman. Thera’s eyes narrowed as she saw Sandre walk in, grinning like a fool. If that man still wore trainee clothes, she would have made him hide those sparkling teeth of his. But he sat down on a bench and was quiet, which was enough for now. The story continued, and grew more horrible still. As a soldier, Thera had seen men and women in so much pain that they wished for nothing but death, but never had she had to wield that peaceful blade herself. It was one thing to put a horse out of its misery, but another thing altogether to the same to men, women, and children. Though she considered herself hard, but she did not know if she had it within herself to do that.

 

By the time Elyan had finished his confession, the room was silent. No one moved, chilled was the crowd by the tale. A single blow from her dagger on the table shattered the silence. “I take it, by your declaration of yourself as ‘scum,’ you have finished your defense of yourself. We now enter a most difficult situation. At this point, I would ask for the offended party to make a statement and for words from both parties to be exchanged. However, as you have told us, there are no representatives of the wronged parties here. You have done great evil, and your hands are stained crimson with blood. But you have also done great kindness, in a way. Though your fate will eventually rest with my decision, I will have people speak for and against you, so that we do not break with custom. I will call upon two people who have heard your story to say why you should be forgiven or why you should be punished, so that all voices may be heard. Page, though you are but young, I would have you tell the assembly why you think Elyan should be punished, and what that punishment should be. And you, Sandre, I see you back there. You and Elyan once knew each other, so I shall have you speak in his defense, and what we should do with him. Once you have both spoken, I will make my decision.”

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Sandre stood reluctantly. What could he say about this man? He wracked his brain for anything redeeming that he could think of. His mind was still clouded by the anger and disappointment from when Elyan left.

 

"I am not sure what to say... you want my opinion on the man, what he did, what punishment he should face... alright here it is."

 

Sandre took a deep breath.

 

"The man came to the Tower and signed the trainee book agreeing to remain here until he is released. He broke that oath. He met people he called friends who asked him to stay, he abandoned them concerned for his own hide. Those decisions caused him to murder countless other innocents in service to the Shadow even if under a death threat. He gave no thought at all to the fact that whomever the Shadow wants killed is more important than the blade doing the job or his mother. In addition to the lies, and the murders he also admitted to stealing. In all that time that he was here or away from here or even as a slave assassin it never occurred to him that being a bastard son of a noble in of itself is not a crime and the bounty was unjust. It would have taken the tower less than a night I wager to prove his innocence in Caemlyn and have his father brought up on charges. While circumstances may have made his choices difficult, they were still his choices."

 

The court was rather silent. Some knew that he had loved Elyan like a brother at one time. Yet Sandre was honest to a fault.

 

"You want my opinion on his punishment well... turning himself in may be the only good thing he ever did. I would say that for running away it would be the same punishment as any deserter trainee, an allotted time collecting the trash from the alleys of Tar Valon and loading them into the carts and burning it. Stealing is just a matter of gold most of the time, gold can be paid back. I have always felt losing a hand is almost as good as a death sentence since those people will not find work, so he should have to pay back the gold value of everything he stole plus interest. As for the murders... well turning yourself in and admitting guilt would give you a beheading for your troubles but that too is not just since it only encourages murderers who wish to redeem themselves to continue hiding and causing us trouble when they are found out."

 

Sandre was unfortunately one of those that had to deal with the paperwork when a trainee or Tower Guard from Andor or Shienar was found to be a wanted criminal since he had ties to both sides nobility.

 

"For the murders I do apologize but I will have to abstain on that one... Elyan's leaving felt like a betrayal to me and his return has only opened the door again. He has destroyed lives... caused misery... at the very least, he should have to live the rest of his days saving lives and creating rather than destroying to honor the memories of those he killed."

 

Sandre sat feeling the weight of the world on him again. Elyan did not know he was needed when he left that day, likely, he would have left anyways.

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Icar struggled to say anything. What could he say? He didn't know anything about trials, about punishment. Deep inside, he knew what punishment he would see fit, for himself, for Elyan. It was a damning position he had been thrust into. He was supposed to remain in the background, not proclaiming punishment in a trial. How had he gotten himself in this?

 

He coughed. "Sandre seems to have done my part for me." He coughed again, nervous. Every eye was upon him. Light, what a mess. "I agree that Elyan should most definitely be punished for his crimes most horrible. He stole, lied, killed, and ran away from the Tower. All these crimes are enough to earn someone death." He took a breath. "I was not here then, as most of you were. I do not know this man, though I doubt any of you know him anymore. I cannot claim any kind of authority on the matter." He was stalling, he knew. "However, I think him coming in to face his punishment, instead of being hunted down, should be carefully considered in the final decision. I personally think we should give him a second chance after he atones for the crimes in the way Sandre stated. He wants to be hanged, so let the punishment be continued life in the service of the Tower." He took another breath and stepped back, signalling that he was finished.

 

Now it was up to the Mistress to cast the verdict based on what she had heard.

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  • 3 months later...

ooc: not sure if this thread is still active, or if it can be salvaged but...

 

A small smile crept across Elyan's face as Sandre began to speak, he had been some what worried that the man would attempt to defend him, but that was foolishness. He should not have doubted that Sandre would stand for anything but what was just, it made Elyan feel at home once more, even if it was only for a brief moment. Losing himself in the emotion of Sandre's speech, he found himself nodding in agreement with what the man said. Until Sandre gave his chosen punishment, which was not what Elyan expected.

 

His frowned deepened throughout the trainees speech, this was not at all how he had imagined it, they might actually let him live. Elyan did not want to die, but he had thought that was what would be just. He felt dismay at the prospect of being allowed to live, of living plagued with guilt and nightmares, but perhaps that indicated it was the best punishment.

 

Elyan tried to still his face and stood quietly, waiting for his judgement.

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