Private Tales The Light at the End

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Maura growled and tried to squirm out of his arms. She was clearly failing at it and finally give up with that method.

"What are you gonna do, Dreadlord? Bring me back to your weak little city? Please do, it is easier to kill them if I am there with them."

There was a slightly maniacal laugh from her as she seemed to shift her straight crazy.

"I will plead insanity. I have no idea what happened and then you attacked me. Me...a poor lost Dreadlord..." She added as her fingers tried to reach the ties around her wrists.
 
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"A heedless stratagem." Olem said simply.

It was not as though the Republic didn't know what she was. They had sent him out here specifically to find her after all. She was a fugitive, a murderer. That was why he had come in the first place. Were she one of those who had simply tried to seek exile?

Well that would have made all of this very different.

"Plead innocence all you wish." The Knight reminded her. "Insanity, it does not matter, particularly to me."

Once again Olem hefted her, shifting Maura's weight so that the grasp on her bindings broke. "I am but an arm, you'll have to deal with the head. I'm not clever enough for judgment I'm afraid."
 
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Maura growled as he shifted her and her fingers lost contact with her bindings. Asshole, she thought as she tried to get her fingers back in their previous position.

"Fine...you are the muscle...I get it," she growled at him.

Her mind was racing as she tried to figure out how to get out of this predicament.

"What if I offered you a shit ton of gold to let me go? Forget you saw me and I won't have to kill you..."
 
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Olem chuckled. ”Gold? What would I do with gold?”

Unlike many other Dreadlords, he had grown up actually believing the stories told to them by the Proctors. While many were just in it for themselves, for glory or for wealth, Olem had always been fighting for Vel Anir.

He did not want wealth or power.

”I get paid plenty by the Guard.” The Knight said with a chuckle, both of them would know it was a lie. The Guard paid it’s soldiers just enough to keep them and their families alive. More than most militaries in the world, but hardly a fortune. ”You’ll just have to try and kill me.”

Olem didn’t add ‘again’ to that. ”But for now lets stay quiet, eh? It’s going to be a long walk.”
 
"You are a terrible liar," Maura quipped when he mentioned that he was paid plenty by the Guard. That was one big load of bullshit.

She had nothing else to contribute so she just hung silently and closed her eyes. Eventually, she started to see people and she contemplated yelling for help but she didn't. He would have to put her down at some point and that would be her chance.
 
He walked for most of the day. It was not until sundown that the road began to take the form of cobbles and the sickly scent of burning cedar began to fill the air. On the horizon a small village appeared, just a few dozen buildings but large enough to have an Inn.

A part of Olem was more than weary of going to anywhere civilized with Maura slung across his back.

Yet he knew the reality of the situation. If he did not purchase a horse it would take him months to get back to Vel Anir. It was simply not an option, so he shifted and began to head down into the sleepy little village. "Try not to speak."

The Dreadlord warned his prisoner.

Eyes beginning to turn towards the two wanderers as villagers began to notice them.
 
Maura had stayed surprisingly quiet throughout their journey. She had nothing left to say so now she just waited. Soon she would kill him and make her escape.

"Try not to speak."

Maura narrowed her eyes with a huff at his order. What was he going to do? Gag her and carry her? That would look even worse than her being slung over his shoulder.

The former Dreadlord caught the eyes of some villagers and she tried her hardest to get her eyes to say help me. She was, of course, unsure if that would work or if the villagers would see the armored knight and stay out of his way.
 
It was not long before Olem and Maura were approached by what looked to be a figure of authority. He wore thick, but worn leathers, a sword hung on his hip and a small badge sat clipped to his shoulder.

Both of the Dreadlords would recognize what the man was instantly of course; a local Anirian Lord Marshall.

They were elected figures, usually former Guardsmen who had retired. In areas where the Guard was not stationed Marshall's were figures of authority. Carrying out Anirian law and the first point of contact for greater forces of government if they were required. Marshall's were rare, usually only found in outskirt towns and villages.

The man's expression was a mixture of curiosity, and stoic calm.

"I can imagine, stranger, that a fair bit of us might be curious as to what you're doing."​

"Of course Lord Marshall. I am Olem, Dreadlord and Anirian Knight of the Guard. I'm escorting this prisoner back to Vel Anir for the crime of murder." Olem had always found that being upfront about his business had the best results.

With his free hand he reached for his satchel, pulling out his orders to hunt down Maura.
 
"He's lying," Maura growled when Olem pulled the order from his bag. "That is not me, I have been trying to tell him that but he won't listen!"

Maura really hoped that there wasn't a drawing of her on there but if there was then it would be a terrible one. It was really her only hope in this case. If the Lord Marshall didn't believe Olem, there would likely be a hearing to determine the truth and that would give her a chance to escape.

"Please! He kidnapped me from my home! I was sleeping!" She tried to argue.
 
The Lord Marshall looked dubious to say the least, his features flickering from the Dreadlord to the woman slung over his shoulder. There was no denying who Olem was, the man didn't even try, but there was the question of who the woman was.

"I assure you, Lord Marshall." The man held up a hand before Olem could finish speaking.

"I'm sorry, Dreadlord. I understand the urgency you're under but there are laws."​

Slowly Olem took in a deep breath. Wanting to curse, but knowing such a thing was hardly of Knightly decorum. He slowly nodded his head. "I understand."

He stated.

It was no longer the old days. A dreadlord could not simply step out and do whatever they wished. The Republic was put in place for the better of all. A vision that Olem wholeheartedly believed in, even when it was not convenient for him.

"There will be an inquest. She'll be kept in the prison an-"​

Olem waved a hand. "I know the law, my Lord."
 
A smug smile crossed her lips as she already started to work out a plan in her head. She just needed to make contact with the earth or any other body. She could unalive one easily enough if needed.

The Lord Marshall nodded and turned to lead the Dreadlord and his prize to the prison. It was nothing special but the earthen floors were exactly what she needed. It was packed down with a bucket, a barely hanging on mattress, and a blanket.

“Isn’t this lovely,” she smiled at the Lord Marshall after Olem had deposited her in the cell and the door had been locked behind her.

“Do you know when the inquest will happen, my lord?”
 
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"Two days."​

Olem couldn't help but frown at the words, though he knew the Marshall would be doing his best. The man seemed keen enough on the law, and though he might have wanted to press the Dreadlord knew that he couldn't.

Not if he wanted to stay true. "Is there anyway to do it sooner?"

He asked, his gaze flickering to Maura.

"I have my orders, Lord Marshall, and I'm afraid I can't have this woman being a danger here longer than is necessary." A frown seemed to flicker over the man's face, and he glanced over towards Maura with a more than dubious expression.

"She don't look very dangerous, who exactly is she?"​

The man asked, and Olem stiffened slightly.
 
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Maura had to admire the soldiers stubbornness. He was really trying to buckle down and get her back to Vel Anir. She had to give him some credit. He was trying.

"She don't look very dangerous, who exactly is she?"

Maura smiled sweetly and widened her eyes to give the look of innocence at the Lord Marshall. She saw the tension that entered Olem but it didn’t phase her.

“My name is Maura, Lord Marshall. He believe that I am a Dreadlord that has been terrorizing the city. I am not. We just happen to have the same name and he won’t see reason,” she pleaded in her best fake sweet voice.
 
"She is." Olem countermanded almost immediately, his tone leaving absolutely no room for discussion.

Though there would surely be one.

"What evi-"​

"Lord Marshall, the woman turned my horse into ash. I assure you she is the one I sought." In the old days none of this would have mattered. In the old days he could have turned the man into meancemeat. Trouble was, Olem had never been the type. "Move the inquest to tomorrow, I will see the expenses are paid."

For a brief moment doubt lingered on thee man's face, but eventually he nodded.

"Very well, Dreadlord. Tomorrow."​
 
Maura made sure to look suitably aghast at the accusation that she had turned his horse to ash. That is preposterous was clearly written on her face as she looked at the Lord Marshall.

She narrowed her eyes at Olem when he finally convinced the other man to move the inquest to tomorrow. Sly little Dreadlord, he was. She looked around the prison and saw exactly four living beings...two of which she could touch while within her cell.

"Am I allowed to get some rest? It is no fun being slung over this giant's shoulder all day. I am exhausted especially if this inquest is to take place tomorrow. I need rest."

Her face was all smiles and innocence to the Lord Marshall but once he had looked away, she narrowed her eyes at Olem and mouthed two words...

You're dead...
 
The Lord Marshall turned towards Olem without a word. Both of them knew that this wasn't going to go anywhere else, and both of them knew the Dreadlord had no legal argument to make. "I will go."

He said with a wave.

"But watch her." There was an uneasiness in his chest. He knew he shouldn't leave. Knew that he should have insisted on staying in the room, and perhaps the cell with her. Yet the rule of law was there.

If he demanded a law be broken just for him, was he any better than those he hunted?

Olem knew the answer without even a thought.
 
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