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[ 22 posts ] |
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Yossarin
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 Posted: Fri, Jan 08 2010, 23:18 PM |
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Player
Joined: 23 Jan 2006
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The bells peal only once. From the roof of the Commonwealth Center in Cordor, the solemn sound brings spectators, angry, wondrous, and fearful, to the Southern District Prison to witness what people have been muttering about for days, even weeks now: the public execution of the ringleader of the Sharran cult operating in the Commonwealth with the singular goal to destroy the government, and usher in a reign of darkness and abject misery of the people of Cordor.
Capitalistic vendors take produce stock they were going to throw out that morning for being overripe or rotten and market it for coppers to citizens eager to humiliate the walking dead, to take destiny into their hands and finally lash out at the very people who have contributed to causing them so much pain and misery over so many years.
A contingent of Elite Guards maintain a perimeter around an artfully constructed gallows. A sign on the stairwell leading up to certain death advertises: Carpentered by Joseph & Son, 112 Trader's Row, South Cordor
Above the gallows looms the impressive monolith of the South Cordor Prison - sans one tower, still yet to be fully erected after the terrorist bombing by the captive Mynna and the fugitive Yurioji. The wounded spire looks crippled in comparison to the rest of the prison, and stands as a standard of a grave injury dealt to the people.
One that somebody wants them never to forget.
Archers line the ramparts of the Prison, deadly crossbows aimed casually down into the crowd, prepared to lay down any attempt by the desperate Sharrans to rescue their ringleader.
The iron gates of South Cordor's Prison creak open. Tiny orange clouds of rust billow out from the hinges, and out steps not the condemned, but the Condemner.
Joseph Maximillian, Speaker of the Council, Minister of Finance and now by provisional constitution the Minister of Law, responsible for overseeing matters of justice such as this glorious public hanging, walks up onto the gallows. Heavy black leather boots on the creaking wood are immediately audible in the wave of silence that overcomes the crowd as the sharp, severe and bespectacled leader of the Commonwealth approaches the gallows. The day is somewhat chilly; Maximillian's thin lips are pale and drawn, silvering blonde hair curling out from beneath a dark fur cap that matches the heavy fur coat he wears, not in the least ostentatious, but the very upper crust of the vaunted middle class.
He holds a thick coil of rope in his black-gloved hands. The crowd stands breathless as the Minister of Law handles it as though it were either a frail newborn or a poisonous asp. Then, with a few quick gestures, the Minister ties the infamous paraffin necklace - the hangman's noose - and thrusts it aloft, his palm gripping the neck of the noose.
The crowd screams in triumph, and doesn't stop, even after he's thrown the noose over the gallows and left it to be secured by the executioner. The Minister then leaves the gallows and re-enters the prison.
When the condemned is finally brought out to roaring jeers and boos and hisses by a contingent of guards, fruit and vegetables are let fly. Tomatoes splatter on the walls of the prison, rotten apples often crumble in the air before they've even hit their mark. Browning vegetation litters the fated walkway and brings the stench of decay before the condemned has even lost his life. Though he cannot see any of it with a burlap sack over his head.
Tristana, the state-appointed Priestess of Waukeen, ascends to the gallows as the executioner and the honor guard meet and begin stripping the condemned of his garments in preparation of his hanging. Tristana, wordless and going through the motions of Waukeenar last rites, ritually removes a single dagger from her belt. The blade gleams, wrought from pure gold; the gem-encrusted handle sparkles with brilliant diamond colors. With her free hand, she removes the burlap sack from the head of the condemned to reveal none other than the infamous Ray Rodgers.
The priestess and the condemned meet gazes, but no words are exchanged. With the dagger, Tristana silently cuts a small purse hanging from Ray's right hip. The purse bursts open and a shower of golden coins spills across the gallow, clinking, clattering, and rolling haphazardly across the wooden gallows, slipping through the cracks, pounding into the dirt, or being snatched up in the hands of eager spectators until the purse is empty. As depleted of value as Ray Rodgers is soon to be depleted of life.
Tristana bends low to lift a single golden coin from the gallows. She holds it up in the light, as if it were an offering. She bites upon it with her teeth to verify that it is honest gold. And then, with all the solemnity of someone truly sorry to see another die, slips the golden coin into his right boot and retreats.
The noose descends around Ray's neck, and is promptly tightened by the executioner, who returns to the lever. He asks but one question before a silent crowd:
"If you have any last words, speak them now, or forever hold your tongue."
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Grymia
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Posted: Fri, Jan 08 2010, 23:36 PM |
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Player
Joined: 14 Dec 2004
Location: Kohlingen, and a Basement in Canada
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Captain Starshower of the Weave Knights watches on inobtrusively, quiet and careful. He does not share in the crowd's enthusiastic portrayals of hatred, but does show his spirit in the emblazoned symbols of Mystra and Corellon on his armour, as well as the holy symbol of Corellon he holds in his hands as he watches the rites being carried out by the Waukeenar priestess.
~ If you are indeed guilty, and I bet you are.. may you know full well what your Goddess represents as an afterlife, for there is nothing there but shadow and void. Beryl, you do not share this man's lot in the afterlife and I pray you have found a more smoother journey to your god's lands. ~ Vaelmith thought to himself as he watched the human being prepared for execution.
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Dakotaen
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Posted: Fri, Jan 08 2010, 23:48 PM |
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Player
Joined: 21 Mar 2007
Location: Denmark
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In the western outskirts of Cordor, a flamboyantly clad man leans against a tree and, as the crowd grows silent he draws in the nearby shadows, and whisper before popping out of sight.
Her void embrace you, Brother, soon we will all be consumed by it.
_________________
Profiles: DakoDako & ElWacko
Characters: Currently trying my best to stick to Beridoc Brushgale
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Craig deathwalker
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Posted: Fri, Jan 08 2010, 23:57 PM |
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Player
Joined: 04 Jun 2006
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His eyes cast out to the spectators, cold and dark, void of emotion soon to be void of life. His chest rises his body straightens, although now he is body is but a shell of its former self he stands proud. His tongue caresses over his pearly whites, as he waits making sure to let everyone know that he see’s them standing here cheering for his death, swallowing hard he begins what will be his last words.
You people think to judge me? You know nothing of me or my faith. I am more than all of you combined and then some, nothing will ever come close. I stand here without fear of death, without remorse. I do this not because you people wish it, not because you think it is earned but because my mistress has finally decided I’ve done enough to be embraced into the darkness.
As you stand here watching my final breaths, listening to my neck snap you serve my mistress. Every time you seek out those who wrong you, every time you wrong someone you serve the darkness. You are all her children in one way or another.
My family of faith I commend you, continue her work, long live the faith the days of darkness are almost here.
Before we hid our work but you wish to hunt us to bring us to your false justice, then you will see our work. The lights will soon be out, lets see how soon you embrace the dark.
Look to your left, look to your right, my brothers and sisters stand among you. Your husband, wife, daughter, son, brother, sister they may well be one of us. You think you can stand here and go untouched? Far from it, you will all have your last breath soon enough. You only have one person to blame for your fate now, the elf who thought it wise to reveal us.
I look out at you now and I smile, my heart sings. You have all come to see not the failure of a true Sharran but instead his rightful passage into her sweet embrace. And I leave you with words that will forever darken your soul.
This is not the end but only the beginning, You have not yet begun to know true pain, true loss, true sorrow but you will soon enough.
With his final message spoke, his eyes closed to the sounds of the crowd, his mouth forming a small smirk. He waited calmly until the floor beneath him was gone, the rope tightened and the sickining sound of his neck snapping filled the air. Ray Rodgers was finnaly with his mistress in her sweet embrace. The repercussions of this where not yet known, but if his words where anything to go by, they where on their way.
_________________ 
Ray's song! Thanks to Amarice, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ujzp9ffPwPM
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Grymia
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Posted: Sat, Jan 09 2010, 0:00 AM |
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Player
Joined: 14 Dec 2004
Location: Kohlingen, and a Basement in Canada
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"Cute. Exactly the kinda thing I'd expect from a Sharran." Vaelmith said, his eyes glaring at Ray as though he was aiming in his own mind with longbow to deal death through a talent gifted to him by training and by being Quessir, of the People.
~ We won't let his ilk take the people to common paranoia... Not at all.. ~ Vaelmith thought to himself resolutely, holding his holy symbol of Corellon tightly as he watched without fear.
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P Three
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Posted: Sat, Jan 09 2010, 0:02 AM |
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Player
Joined: 18 Dec 2008
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A blonde woman, mage's staff in hand, watches from the crowd below. She can't resist a soft smirk before turning away, hips swaying as she makes her way to the gates.
Gee. And I wasn't good enough,
she thinks to herself, before bursting into laughter, disappearing behind the veil of Invisibility.
_________________ Bobo_Underhill wrote: Ley lines, y'all. Just let me go wrangle up my cowboy boots and lasso us up some magic.
Yee-haw! Aly'dra Zau'ana: Priestessish Of EilistraeeDanika Nefzen: Druid of the EarthmotherDelia Am'Anodel: Paladin of Torm
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Nakomis Wolfen
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Posted: Sat, Jan 09 2010, 0:11 AM |
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Player
Joined: 21 Dec 2005
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Darby watched quietly, her eyes narrowed, a smoldering angry look in them, and a small frown on her face. Her hands hidden under her cloak she just shook her head slightly then slipped away towards the docks, after all was said and done.
"Take me ta Wiltun, eh?"
_________________
Chiania Windleaf-nervous druid/shifter who's happily in love and married to her Seabird, with three "cubs".
Darby Mirth-troubled half-elf with an interest in the sea.
Kaci- short...moody... faithful of Lord Firemane.
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DolphinRacer
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Posted: Sat, Jan 09 2010, 2:29 AM |
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Player
Joined: 01 May 2009
Location: GMT-8 Bangor, Washington
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Observing from his position on the relative edge of the crowd where he is stationed to help keep order, a man in the uniform of a Cordorian Sergeant watches silently from under his helm.
"Your darkness may try to come Sharran, but the light will shine all the brighter for it and soon the wind will tear your pathetic and perverted shadows away."
He remains where he is until the crowds disperse. Anyone who bothers to look closely at him would note two odd things about his uniform. It lacks tips on its gloves, revealing curved black talons on the end of the man's fingers, and the backs of his gauntlets are engraved with the non-standard image of a whirlwind. When the crowd disperses he departs as well, and returns to his regular watch over the central square.
_________________
Sir Taelar Ardelyn of Wiltun
Winner of the Razor Tongued Award 2015!
Kira "Penny" Sigers
Better than Boulderdash!
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FA_Frey_XC
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 7:15 AM |
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Player
Joined: 18 May 2005
Location: XC HQ Alpha, Sol System, Sirius Sector.
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*in the Tower of the Damned a letter that was to be sent to one Ray Rogers, care of the Cordorian Government is held in the lichs gloved hand.
Frey opens the letter again, one it had only sealed days before to send to inform Ray of the decision of his petition for unbanning in Tarkuul, and seems to look at it for a while.*
"Ray... mineself knows thee, more than before. There is a reason thou do everything, and a reason thou petitioned our City to be removed from our Enemies list... even going to so far as to send a Sharran representative to speak such glory and praise of thee while thou were but days from the gallows..
Like before... mineself knows this to be simply another ruse, another -shadow-, fading before the light. In time, the shadow will grow again, make no doubt.
And when that time comes, mineself will be ready. Oh yes, Ray. You will see."
*the letter is held aloft over the candle flame, the royal seal of the Consulate of Tarkuul beginning to melt, then run as the parchment catches. The words detaining the results of Ray's petition become hard to discerne as the flames creep, but one word was quite clear, and in rather large letters*
DENIED.
Regards,
_________________ 
"Come under the flag of truce, and brook no treason... for mineself is Death, and care not whom knows mine touch."
- Frey Asaid'De Majere
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AlannaMolov
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 15:06 PM |
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Player
Joined: 08 Sep 2005
Location: 'illadelph
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Alanna leaves Arwen and Aluvard's, cradling a package wrapped in brown paper and twine, and heads toward South Cordor to see what fresh produce was brought in that morning.
She turned the corner and was swallowed by the crowd. Hemmed in by bodies, she was forced to stand before the gallows as the man hung and her eardrums rang with the hysterical screams of the crowd.
"Hang one, and let the others go free? Good job, Commonwealth, your people are real safe now."
_________________ Alanna of Wharftown, Captain of the Hands of Ieriyn"A soft woman
is simply a wolf
caught in meditation."
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Dwagin
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 20:37 PM |
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Player
Joined: 08 Aug 2006
Location: The Land of Nod
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Were it not for the reddened roof-tiles of the building nearby, a figure perched on an eave would clearly stand out. Muted crimson scales would be lost in the sea of red. Digitigrade legs tensed as the creature remained perched with its large wings hanging forward. The half dragon watched on callously, remarking to himself..
"Is abou' sssime.. your chips were cashed in and dues paid Ray. You never knew when you should fold Ray. I promised I'd see every one of you rossen pieces of filthh... ...One less deb' I need 'oo square. You were an overpuffed showman 'oo stthhe end, nar? One couldnar expec' nar less. Goodbye Ray.. an annoying.. bu' ener'aining monkey you were.."
...and there he remained, untill the corpse would be drawn down, till the dawn of the next day, if need be.
_________________
Dwagin [Duh-wa-GIN] N. - 1a. Small and cute thingum, particularly fond of four legged scaled creatures of the metalic and chromatic varieties.
-Extraordinarily ordinary in the mostest of ways.
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Mobile_Svensk
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 20:57 PM |
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Player
Joined: 21 Jul 2005
Location: Awarded most Confused Git of 2014!
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A Black man with dreads shouts from the cheering crowd as Ray's neck snap, he throws his hat in the air and is caught up in the rush of the moment. His hat is lost in the massess but he could't care less. After a while he settles down and nudges the folks closest to him in a half-serious tone.
-"Hah, Good riddance. We're finaly one sharran less!"
-"hey, Don't you think it's time to shun the drow out of town to?"
-"And what about them half-devils that roam the streets, they're a danger to our children. Rid us of them while we're at it!"
He said
_________________
Amia Minecraft Server Ip: vps1602.directvps.nl
NWN Damage Calculator: http://www.afterlifeguild.org/Thott/dnd/
NWN Build Calculator: http://nwvault.ign.com/View.php?view=Other.Detail&id=856
Last edited by Mobile_Svensk on Mon, Jan 11 2010, 22:11 PM, edited 1 time in total.
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Gunz
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 22:07 PM |
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Player
Joined: 01 Jul 2006
Location: The City of Fallen Angels, Ca
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A large jet black raven perched on the edge of a neighboring structures roof top. It eyed the unfolding scene until Ray Rogers' execution was complete. It watched the man hang for a number of moments before it flew off, cawing loudly, heading North.
_________________
My Characters:
Yuilith Kethil Menaiivan Garadeth
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MadrikVale
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 23:33 PM |
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Player
Joined: 14 May 2009
Location: Evanston, Wyoming
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*The final letter to the Actand house is sent to Madrik by a member of the Hidden Glade. The letter simply reads that Ray Rodgers has been executed in Cordor and includes an apology for the long delay in informing him.
Madrik lowers the last bag of possessions slowly to the floor. Clanging of cooking utensils echo in the empty room. Beneath his helm, Madrik glares his face deeply, ignoring the pain such an expression would cause him.
He crumbles the letter into a ball and tosses it aside, then picks up the bag. He storms to the front door with aggression, grumbling, "Stupid.." as his last words in a house he conducted this long and deep investigation.
His next destination is determined in his angry stride. He makes his way to Mystra's Monolith.*
_________________
[color=#d0c0d0][i]"A quote someone made about how wonderful me or my character is." -Mr. No Thanks[/color][/i]
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Yossarin
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Posted: Mon, Jan 11 2010, 23:46 PM |
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Player
Joined: 23 Jan 2006
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The people of the Commonwealth are angry, bitter, but quiet in the wake of the Sharran's final words. They hang over the Commonwealth like a dark cloud, even as the crowd disperses, and Ray's body hangs under the watch of the guards until finally it is taken down and buried in an unknown and unmarked grave.
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Yossarin
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Posted: Tue, Jan 12 2010, 23:21 PM |
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Player
Joined: 23 Jan 2006
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...and then the very next day, the City Guard are in a very grim mood, indeed. Loose lips and quiet murmurs amongst themselves state that the Sharrans will pay for what they did to one of their own on the very day of Ray Rodgers' execution.
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Estara
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Posted: Wed, Jan 13 2010, 13:20 PM |
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Player
Joined: 23 Feb 2007
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On an uncharacteristic stroll of Southern Cordor, Samantha notes the grim moods and soft murmurs of the guards. She pauses for a long time to watch where the gallows was and stares for awhile, seeming thoughtful, until she takes herself through the portal to the Tower of Mystra.
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Yurell
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Posted: Wed, Jan 13 2010, 13:24 PM |
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Player
Joined: 06 Jan 2008
Location: ANU, behind the coffee mug (+10 GMT)
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One person isn't particularly happy or upset about the death. She walks by, listening carefully to the mutterings of the guards, a look of sympathy for their plight upon her face, and even more so she listens to the mutterings of the commoners, trying to search for a couple that were actually there ... perhaps for an eye-witness news report?
_________________
2009's Second Most Overall Contributing Player
يمكنني استخدام مترجم جوجل
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Xaviera
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Posted: Fri, Jan 15 2010, 19:42 PM |
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Player
Joined: 07 Aug 2006
Location: Temple of Love
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Xaviera, having decided that washing her hair is more important than watching an execution - even that of a man long thought by her to have never renounced his Sharran faith - does not attend the event. In fact, it goes largely unacknowledged by her, it being pointless for her to comment on that which seemed obvious.
Her periodic visits to check on the welfare of south Cordor's working girls continue as before. If there is any change in her behaviour, it is that the rhyming signs extolling the virtues of Sharessan worship relative to that of certain other deities are now posted more often outside the Temple of Love.
_________________  ~Sharess on AmiaWiki~Priestess, politician, prostitute "[They] were moving in on me like Sharessans on a new broad in the bath house" - Tracer BoltAmiaWiki mod (mostly inactive)
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soundofastream
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Posted: Fri, Jan 22 2010, 0:39 AM |
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Player
Joined: 21 Sep 2007
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A woman, dressed from head to foot in a monk's Illmaterran robe, with a veil, she says its to prevent her rare illness from spreading to others, asks around the Cordorian guard about the dark day of the hanging. Through interweaving conversations, she ask about the square that it took place and which guards were on guard duty during the hanging.
She mentions something about the need for her church to give those guards a gift, as a sign of her lord's respect for their hard work in bringing such a villain to trial. Shar she says, has caused so much suffering in the world, it is only right that people's suffering be brought to an end.
_________________
Illithira Frostmaiden (Snow Elf) Guardian of the Frostfell
Elithiel Issatheerin (Shadow Elf) She who Lurks
Isolia Oussea'lylth (Sun Elf) Apprentice Wizardess
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ValkinMulgin
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Posted: Wed, Feb 17 2010, 13:07 PM |
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Player
Joined: 18 Apr 2009
Location: Australia
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A twisted figure sits in his high-back oaken chair, a pool of blue shimmering water is all that lights the room giving it a pale and sickly illumination, valkin leers over the pool, his breath raspy and his eyes deep set and glazed, as the lever is pulled and the body still a sigh could be heard followed by
"The line between bravery and stupidity, genius and madness, is measured only by success, i wonder if in death rays worth is measured finally."
in thoughts passing Valkin ponders on there first encounter in the pits of fire below the city of lies, ow how they danced the blade and spell and how fate destined them to tangle time and time again, as friend and foe, till the day i pulled him from the fires of the Amia forest that was the last time we would speak now the only sound from ray is that of the tension on his leash that finally strangled him, an to think of all that he will leave behind.
_________________ If i am not about when you are, but you would like to RP with Valkin, chose a time in red (GMT+8) / add character name PM me ICLY/OCC  : http://teamup.com/ks662ccbfedda01eb0/
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Really Evil Pigeon
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Posted: Wed, Feb 17 2010, 23:54 PM |
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Player
Joined: 01 Aug 2005
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Some days later in a dark room a blue skinned woman sits on her bed, wearing nothing but a silky dressing gown. no candles lit to show the wealth of the person, her only company is the moon light shining through her window, finally after some deep thought and reminsing, a inky black tear slides down her face, she whispers to the night.
"forgive me Ray, I had my hand in your downfall, I still remember after we broke up.. you sang songs across cordor for me. I helped you along your way to self hate and loss and loathing, forgive me Ray, I'm sorry"
she then finally rolls over.. crying herself to sleep, til her pillow turned black.
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