THE FIRST TRIAL

[strangerpeople]

THE FIRST TRIAL

[Soon after the final clue is found, there are three more loud, unsettling tonal clangs, all which go right to the bone. No matter where they are, the Titled will hear another, loud creak.

The set of doors on the left are slowly opening, revealing a long, long corridor, with a very long flight of stairs going upwards, just barely visible at the end of it.

The Intercessor's voice booms through the air and shakes the ground, sounding loud and clear no matter where the Titled might be standing at that moment.]

ENTER!

[The voice brooks no argument. As soon as everyone goes through the set of double doors, they close behind them. There is no choice, and no turning back. The Titled must go up the stairs at the end of the hall. They feel like they take forever, but when the stairs are finally traversed, there is a single door at the top, already open to them.

Welcome to the Debate Hall, Titled. Its the best-lit place you've seen, with gas lamps on the wall bright as possible. Its also the emptiest place they've ever seen so far - its massive and yet the Titled and the Intercessor are the only individuals to be seen in the entire area.

Seems, because there is faint chanting coming from the darkness behind that stage at the other end. There's no real way to hear what's being said, no matter how close you try to get. No way to check if there's even anyone on or behind the stage to make such chanting possible. The only person remotely close to the stage, standing on the stone steps, is the Intercessor.

There is also a faint rumble in the air, as if the world itself mourns the crime committed.

So. Take your seats at your stone desks to face one another as you debate. And yes, they are stone. Yes, they have stone chairs with which to sit in. And yes, your Title is on your assigned chair, etched in with chisel and hammer. Every desk also has a copy of the Writs with Orders 7 and 8 circled, and a copy of the autopsy file of the deceased on top of it; that is all the aid you will get from whoever brought you here. The rest, it seems, is up to the Titled, with what they have found.

Seats 7 and 8 are empty. Their copies of the rules and evidence lay untouched.

Once everyone has taken their seats, the strange, ominous chanting stops. Its time. Bound in blood, the death warrant has already been signed. The contract is complete. Its now just a question of finding the guilty party to fulfill the call for justice.

So, get ready, Titled.

The Inquisition of Laslow, the Spinner, has begun.]

Comments

[bythewaves]

"Oh Killua, forgive me. But I am so old, and my sins weigh heavy." For Killua, Maglor stands and comes to him, kneeling before him.

"You have your whole life ahead of you, child. I would take anyone's place, if it buys anothers life."

[lightnen]

"Well I have a lot of sins too and I've been through hell so don't.." He was getting so worked up about this and he didn't know why, stopping short once the older man came over and knelt before him.

An odd feeling like something clenching at his heart, gripped him with the words that followed and for a second he was almost rendered speechless. "I... It's too selfless though! I mean... someone else is bound to die here after this so this sacrifice of yours isn't even needed!" He nodded, not willing to give this up out of stubbornness and pride. "You're the first person to ever teach me how to do something like cooking and if you go and die now, then who else is gonna teach me?"

[bythewaves]

"Maybe. But maybe a willing sacrifice will buy you enough time to escape. I do not know."

He presses Killua's hands in his own and leans up to brush a kiss across his brow. As he does he murmurs softly in his ear.

"And I fear...that our captors might force my hand. Better to die than to be made to kill."

He pulls back and smiles sadly. "So you see, I am being selfish too."