The Myst of Avsolom is a medieval high fantasy role play forum set in an original world. It is 3/3/3 on the RPG scale and 18+
The role play is freeform which means there are no stat systems, but there are Rules and Guidelines for members to follow.

Closed A Heated Misunderstanding

Miss Fortune

Gwyneth Merrick

Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Magi
Job
Sorceress-ish
Gender
Female
Age
26
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Beth
Messages
2
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‘How do I get myself into these situations?’ Gwyn thought as another tomato smacked into her cheek with a wet squelch. Gwyn sighed as the pulpy red mass slid off her face and splatted unceremoniously at her feet. The sorceress glanced at the small collection of rotted fruit and vegetables that the cart she was riding in was collecting but immediately regretted it as one of the wheels hit a rut in the road causing her teeth to slam together painful.

“Oww...Is all this really necessary?” She tried to say to anyone that would listen but unfortunately her question was almost entirely drowned out by the raving crowd hurling obscenities in her direction along with their spoiled produce. If anyone had heard her over the general cries of “Witch!!!” and “Burn her!!!” they certainly didn’t give any indication and honestly Gwyn couldn’t say she was surprised. This was not the first time she had been run out of a town by an angry mob though the whole burning at the stake thing was new.

The cart continued on its course rolling along the village road until it came to a stop near a raised platform with piled wood at its base. As Gwyn watched, the angry crowd began to gather around the platform fanning out around her cart in a semicircle so that all in attendance could get a good view. As they did so a large man stepped up into the cart behind her and grabbed her roughly. Untying her from the place she had been secured to he then pulled her from the cart and forward towards the place of execution without saying a word.

“Hey! Watch it! Let me go!” Gwyn pulled, struggled and tried her best to make things difficult for the larger man but the most she could do was slow her progress towards the looming death sentence that was before her. The man drug her up lashing her hands and feet tightly to a large pole at the top of the pile of wood and at that point Gwyn finally realized she was well and truly stuck. “Look! This is some kind of mistake. There is a reasonable explanation…”

“Explanation?” A man interrupted stepping forward from the crowd. “You turned my ale into cat piss.”

“Listen, I told you I didn't…”

“And your magics gave me a case of the pox.” A woman added as the people immediately surrounding her stepped back.

“Now look, you can't prove…”

“And you gave my kitty fleas!” A little girl said holding up a mangy orange colored tabby cat that hissed when it saw Gwyn.

“Oh come on how could I possibly do that?”

“Enough!” A commanding voice boomed over the crowds cries. Gwyn glanced to her side to see a tough looking man in armor standing with her on the platform above the rest of the crowd. She had never seen him before but judging by his stance and air of confidence he had to be whatever passed for law in this town. “Your crimes speak for themselves, witch. We do not take kindly to rogue magi disturbing the peace and I am here to put a stop to your reign of terror once and for all.”

“Look, I was just trying to warm up a bowl of soup. Yeah things got a little out of control but…”

“Silence!” The man in armor cut her off. “We will have no more of your lies. I ask now if anyone has any reason this witch should not be burned speak now. Otherwise we will commence with the execution.”

For once the crowd lapsed into complete silence. It was so quiet in fact that for a moment Gwyn thought she had gone deaf. She stared around at the crowd mouth agape. This couldn’t really be happening and yet here she was and no one was speaking up. “No one? Really? Surely someone thinks this is just a little wrong? Anybody?!”
 
One Suave Swordsman

Ethan LaRue

Character
Province Citizen
Job
Sword for Hire
Gender
Male
Age
28
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Frost
Messages
1
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Well now, this had certainly become an interesting afternoon. Ethan LaRue, heroic and dashing sellsword, had as he had so often done in his past just gone where his feet had taken him. Or rather where his horse's hooves had taken them, but the man was going to take credit for it as hey, he was the one holding the reins. Nonetheless the man's travels had taken him to a rather small hamlet out in the backwoods in one of the western provinces. A hamlet that, to be frank, wasn't exactly fond of strangers. Sure, they had an inn and had put him up the night before. Even had a meal with some rather horrid ale. But the suspicious stares the entire evening....well, Ethan figured that he may have been better off just camping out that night and taking his chances in shooting a rabbit or deer for a meal. He'd learned to not care what folks thought long ago, but one couldn't help but be unnerved slightly with the eyes of an entire village constantly watching your every move.

As such, the man hadn't planned on dawdling too terribly long the following day. Really, most of the morning had been spent trying to find anything that would pass as a merchant in an attempt to obtain some supplies. An attempt that was greeted with more distrust. While Ethan wasn't going to say 'price gouging' out loud, he was strongly thinking it, and as such had just stuck to the bare essentials. The man was just about ready to head out from the stables when he couldn't help but hear quite a racket from the opposite end of town. Enough of a racket where the stablehands curiosity outweighed their distrust of Ethan and they too made their way over. With all the angry voices it was hard to pick anything out, but after a few moments of concentration, 'witch' wound up being a fairly common word that was coming up. 'Burn' was another popular one. A little old fashioned and barbaric, to say the least. People in modern society were wary of those touched by the Myst as is, so a place a little more backwoods? People tended to fear what they didn't understand and that certainly seemed to be the case here. Jumping out of his saddle, Ethan sighed as he fumbled around through Mace's saddlebags, pulling out a fake pair of glasses and a random book. It had been a while since he rescued a maiden and really, he'd prefer to do it without shedding innocent blood. Yes, burning a person was rather messed up, but at the same time, it was out of fear and misunderstanding rather than pure malice and spite.

Making his way towards the group of people, sure enough, there was a burning at the stake that was to take place. A short little blonde thing, probably around his age or so trying to convey her innocence. And failing quite spectacularly as all sorts of accusations were slung at the poor thing. Alcoholic transmutations, poxes, and feline petulance...a little bit of everything on the menu that one may be accused of with witchcraft. At the front next to the stake was some blowhard in armor, offering the town an opportunity to defend the 'witch' with the woman being just a little perturbed that nobody was taking him up on his offer. Well, that was enough of a cue for Ethan. These people seemed to want a show, and the man was certainly going to deliver.

“Um...I might...maybe...” Ethan stammered from the back of the crowd, adjusting his fake glasses as he carefully stumbled through the crowd. One of the nice things about people being wary and giving him the cold shoulder was that they hadn't really gotten to know Ethan and what kind of personality he had. Something that he was hoping would work to his advantage as he shuffled to the front of the crowd.

“Um...hello there, fine folks. I'm sure some of you have seen me around town and well, I should introduce myself. My name is Jacob Ezra, and I'm a traveling scholar.” A blatant lie, to be sure, but given the paranoia of the citizens and the likelihood of something going horribly wrong, Ethan saw no reason to attach his 'real' name to this little charade.

“Now then, I have to say, I am a little shocked at you fine ladies and gentlemen! Burning a poor woman for mere allegations! I can attest to the fact that the ale...well, it could be better. And I mean that with no offense intended. I dined last night and the drink was a little lacking. A pox, well...you are a smaller community. Very close knit! Maybe a little too close knit for your own good! Disease can unfortunately spread! As for your poor kitty little lady, well they pick up fleas. It's unfortunate, but that is just the way it goes for our four legged furry friends!”

So far, so good. The man had looks of confusion and annoyance aimed at him, but at the very least, that kept a torch from being aimed at the kindling at the base of the morbid little burning stake. Now on the stage, Ethan opened his book and thumbed through it briefly. Not actually saying or reading anything, but rather as part of his little performance.

“Now friends, I know that magic can be scary! It most assuredly can be! Us as humans do tend to fear what we don't understand! But I promise you, magic can be used for the greater good! Rains to water the crops or to douse a fire! Fires to cook with...food, not innocent people, mind you! Spells to ward off enemies and protect your loved ones! Again, I know that it can be scary, but magic can be a great good as well! And besides, if this woman were a witch, wouldn't she do something a little more...malevolent? Blood raining from the skies! Hard working folk being changed into frogs! Houses exploding into flame!”

Ethan walked slowly around the stake as he continued his spiel, making frantic movements with his book holding hand as he described each spell, all the while subtly grabbing a crossbow bolt from it's quiver and slipping it into the blonde woman's hands, bound behind the stake. The rope didn't look the strongest in the world, so a little sawing and with any luck she'd have her hands free. Not as good as a knife by any means, but there wasn't really a subtle way for Ethan to get her the knife out of his boot sheathe.

“So folks, I ask you all. Look inside yourselves! Do you really want to condemn an innocent woman to a fiery fate? If you light this poor creature ablaze on mere...speculation, how are you any better than the supposed monster that you are all putting down? Look at her, she's mortified! Do you really think that she's going to stick around here? Nay. Friends, I implore you. Let this woman go about her way in peace. And your consciences? Well, they will most certainly be clean of any blight. Ladies, gentlemen...what do you say?”

Yeah, that was long winded. Very long winded. But it was all part of playing a role. Plus it was a ploy to buy the woman a little time to get sawed free. Ethan was well aware that this might not work and they'd have to improvise. Although...he did a damn good job of acting, if he said so himself. Maybe he should have been a minstrel or bard....

“I say we burn them both!” An angry voice shouted from the crowd.

“Yeah!” A woman added. “Either he's a warlock or she put him under her spell!”

“Burn 'em both! Burn 'em both!”


Well, so much for THAT. The armored man had a smile slowly form across his face, but it certainly wasn't a happy one. A little physical improvisation may be in order...
 

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