THE FIRST TRIAL

[The hour is up.

A bell chimes.

Soon enough, the Conductor collects everyone.]

Right, come now. You don't want the rats come and drag you in.

[And indeed, if any of them do try to resist, the rats will swarm them and drag them down to the locked gate.

Soon, the Conductor is standing where the lock is, hands on her hips. Soon enough the Empress' Shadow, the Other Victoria, the daughter of Her Thrice-Renewed Majesty, hobbles in, still dressed in her black, using a cane, her head held high as she stared at the Conductor. If the Strigoi do indeed remember her, perhaps they have informed her of what is happening. The two stare at one another, silent, for a moment.

Then, with a sigh, the Conductor begins to recite words that she has clearly said dozens of times.]

Private citizen. In the name of the Empire and your eternal Empre-

[Beep. The Dowager's thumb is immediately on the fingerprint scanner, and there is a click before the chains dissipate, as if by magic. Then, the fingerprint scanner-a familiar, of all things, of a Strigoi-then hops over to the Dowager, squeaking over to the Outer Terrace. Then, the Dowager herself turned and began to walk off, though not without giving a small, sympathetic nod to the Strangers as she leaves.]

...oh. Well then. Thank you, your Majesty.

[Clearing her throat, the Conductor throws open the gates. It's a small English garden in twilight, with a fountain and bushes and a few animal-like familiars here and there. There is a small station which to make tea and crackers with accompanying crockery near the house, though there are no servants manning it.

In the center of the garden is fifteen podiums-something McBurn would recognize almost immediately-in a very large, wide circle, and a larger, sixteenth chair which the Conductor sits in,. Each podium has a pair of sunglasses chained to them; there's no way to unchain them.

Above them is darkness. On the side of the house facing them, a window curtain is slightly open; the Empress' Shadow is the only other live witness to this aside from the crew.

The conductor presses a button on the chair, and everyone's cuff beeps. There is a clock again, along with a list.]

THE ROSE	THE FORLORN	THE GOLEM	THE DISCORD
				THE HALVED

[She then presses a second button, which seems to do nothing. She then speaks laconically, if not bored.]

This is the trial of Weftlander Proto Man, alias Blues, alias "The Alphabet" . We are in week 2 of our journey; our current stop is Victoria's Chasm. The suspects are as recorded in Little Courtesy Registration No. 36244-H. This is Conductor Lilac recording; I am empowered by the edict of Her Thrice-Renewed Majesty to magister the following proceedings.

[Then, much more lively (if not a little sarcastic).]

Bureaucracy. Isn't it grand?

Now. Let's begin, shall we? You have the information, and you have your suspects. You have a time limit to which you must adhere to, and you must vote before that time ends. You may ask me questions if you wish, but-don't ask me to tell you who did it. Or anything else ridiculous. Do make your questions pertinent to what is happening, please.

[With that, she stands and strolls over to the station to make herself tea. Looks like there's no other choice aside from having tea and crackers; the clock is ticking.


The trial for the murder of Proto Man, the Alphabet, has begun.]