Court of Souls for Marill Devrien

A Court of Souls is being convened to rule on the soul of Marill Devrien. His speech claiming to be General Harathir Devrien has warranted this Court of Souls. The public are invited to bear witness to the proceedings.


Jan. 11, 2020, 5 p.m.

Hosted By



Arcane Catlith Naxalia Zedmir Joran Sylindra Zymandi Thorin Azariah Nalaea Dunlain Lyandra Forwen Elstrin Nagestos Arminel Seren Rawlin Jarlanen Danai Shakian



Volandis Mountains - Thelos - Shrine of Baridon

Largesse Level



Barfolemew, a small sand cat, Catoctin - a happy squeaking otter arrive, following Zymandi.

Malice, a lithe and deadly Krilkar, Jiro, ever vigilant condor, Zymandi arrive, following Sylindra.

Zymandi follows Sylindra, uncharacteristically silent.

As the hour strikes, those seeking to attend the first Court of Souls to be held in the Immortal Lands find the judges already arrived and seated in the Judges' box -- two of them, at least. Joran appears to be striding back and forth between it, a soft conversation occurring between the three of them while they wait for the Thalerith contingent to bring the accused.

The guildmaster is on time, and makes his way toward the front of the crowd. He greets the elves he recognizes with quiet nods, a more solemn attitude than is usual for him. While Zedmir does not have any official vote in this matter, he's expected to be called upon for a medical examination, and is ready for when its his turn to serve the Court.

Thorin arrives to the court with his raven perched on his shoulder and his wolf at his side. Firn, however, finds a spot near the entrance, sitting as Thorin proceeds on to find a place to sit and watch.

Luthien sits in the Judge's box with a snow leopard and snow wolf at her feet, the huge animals with their paws wrapped around one another, resting. There's a bunny on her golden silk lap, and she pets it as she speaks quietly to the High Priestess in the box, and Joran when he comes by. Her wide eyes alight on each person as her attention flits from place to place.

Close to when things are meant to start Azariah arrives, looking...bloody? Smelling of fire and smoke? The silk wrap she wears over her clothes has had one corner bundled up and it is held to a wound on her shoulder that is actively bleeding. She doesn't say anything as she comes in and heads towards the front and just stands there, not saying anything or sitting down, expression grim.

Since it's a more solemn ocassion, Nalaea has actually brought out her robes to wear. She also brings with her the faint scent of the ocean, having likely come direct from Lorawin. She's joined by her eelhound and a water elemental who bloops (appropriately) along as the Aeran heads for a seat.

Joran is seated in the Judges' box, his gaze flitting and head angling toward the other judges present. An owl rests on his shoulder, and his gold-flecked viridian gaze is lidded when it looks back out toward the rest of the gathering.

Dunlain is stationed inside the shrine in full Templar regalia, near to the box to serve the court when called to do so. His helm hides any expression on his face, though he is dressed for war and bristling with various weapons. As people enter into the shrine, he stands to attention and carefully watches the gathering crowd.

Lyandra filtered in, along with the host of elves of all of the kinships. Her eyes paused, for a moment, taking in the judges there, and the form of her twin, before she sought for a place to settle, herself. Seeing a familiar figure, she made her way over to the left to slip onto a seat beside the Headmaster of her Acadeum.

Forwen had to be running, because she comes sliding to a stop just inside. Wide eyed, with this red curls flopping around her head as if a storm had hit them and breathing heavily. For a moment the tiny elf blinks at the faces, picking out those she knows to find somewhere to sit. Yep there is a choice, Go join Cat or barge the Lorandi.. since pushing her way into the judges box might be frowned upon, the little Aeran heads for High Priest Rawlin and his people.

Elstrin filters in from Thelos proper, wearing a dress appropriate for the gravity of the situation. Before finding a seat on the left side of the court, she'll take a moment to nod at the judges.

Forwen has joined the Left Lectern.

Nagestos makes his way into the Shrine with his eyes focused on his path in front of him and then over into the lectern. He does not seem to pay too much attention to the other people about him, and this is relatively unusual. Equally so is the fact that his face has a hint of kindness to it but at this point looks completely serious with little thought for kindness. When he sits down he places a hand on each knee and eyes the area where the primary matter of business will be occurring.

Arminel enters in with a small contingent of Lorandi, quietly making hsi way towards an empty portion of the court. He takes a seat and looks to the front of the court area in interest.

Seren enters upon the arm of her husband, the two moving to find a seat with a nod to the King. It is a quiet greeting considering the fact of what is about to happen. She leans in to whisper to Rawlin and then they slide themselves into a place for two, putting Seren near Nagestos. "Hello," she says politely, a nod of her head given as she smiles at the other.

The Warlord of the Thalerith arrives at the Shrine of Baridon some minutes late. She is carrying her distinctive spear White Glint, but the white spearhead is covered in fresh blood, with more specs of blood splattered across her upper body, and her face having a certain freshly washed look to it. A faint scent of smoke trails behind her. The expression on her face is grim, but it's the grimness of one who is profoundly annoyed. To one side and two steps behind walks Blade Sworn Zymandi Devrien, who looks uncharacteristically sullen. On the opposite side is a burly Thalerith warrior, carrying what appears to be a shrouded body. Some steps further back two more muscular Thalerith warriors carry large cloth bundles of something.

The Warlord walks right up to the judges lectern's, her entourage following behind her. When she arrives she lifts her spear up vertically, and brings its butt down forcefully onto the floor, causing a loud BOOM that echoes across the halls of the courtroom. At the signal, the foremost warrior drops the body he is carrying before the her feet, and removes the shroud, revealing the dead body of Marril Devrien. The other two come up and drop their bundles to either side of the body, opening the cloth to reveal that each pair contains a pile of ash, two scimitars, and strips of charred Thalerith clothing.

Luthien checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 4 higher.

Rawlin enters with his wife and when they settle into their seats, he places an arm around her shoulders and nods to the others who sit near them, particularly Archmage Nagestos. "Archmage, it has been a while. Hope you are well." He murmurs to the older elf, then he watches the Warlord enter with the accused.

Zymandi follows after the Warlord, taking a spot opposite Azariah. She has two long knives strapped to her belt, worn openly. She looks ashen and uncharacteristically rigid, no trace of mischief there at all.

Catlith checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Lyandra, having been bumped into, returned the greeting, though her eyes did not leave the procession of elves, and focused with absolutely attention when the Warlord and her entourage arrived. The body which was presented brought a frown to crease her brows, but moreso the remains of the other two Thalerih warriors.

Looking a little irritated, perhaps at his tardiness, or maybe on purpose considering his timing to the Warlord's entrance, Jarlanen eases himself in a few steps behind Sylindra's entourage, peeling off to find a spot to hover close by Thorin and Lyandra and the left lectern. Not quite taking a seat yet, instead he stands there leaning a little on his staff while he watches the presentation.

"What is this, Warlord. Why is the accused brought to court dead?" The Templar stepping forward a single step, "Please, explain what happened. Is there need for me to call in a patrol of knights to secure this shrine?" Dunlain glances towards his family members briefly before focusing on Sylindra and setting a hand to the hilt of his blade. "Is there further danger following you, or danger being led into the city?" he clarifies, so his actions aren't taken as hostile to the leader of his kinship but more of a concern for the need of defensive measures.

Elstrin was busy playing with whisper, to be honest. She didn

Nagestos had been focused on the proceedings with the gravity of the situation. He turns to look over at the pair who speak to him and he forces his serious expression to shift transform over to a more kindly expression, a soft smile to them, "And hello to you both." His words soft and he softens it more to speak more to the area about him.

Zymandi focuses on Dunlain immediately, touching the pommel of one of her knives. But it's just an instinct. She looks keyed-up. There's blood on her fingertips. The gesture smooths out and her hand returns to her side.

At the arrival of the Thalerith contingent, Catlith rises slowly from her seat. Robed in red, elevated as the judges' box is, the gesture is a difficult one to miss in the cavernous gray shrine. But as the shrouded body is carried in behind the Warlord, her black brows arch. When the body is deposited at their feet, they rise further still -- an impressive feat, really. "Warlord," the priestess says, after staring at Sylindra for a long, silent moment. "It was you who first reported the discovery of an Awakened among your people, and you who asked for this Court of Souls to be convened." Her gaze falls to Dunlain. "I expect that you are prepared to offer this body a statement which will answer all of the Templar's questions, and more."

Jarlanen has joined the Right Lectern.

Elstrin was busy playing with whisper, to be honest. She didn't see the figure of the warlord stroll into the court and slam her spear down. Which means that when it happens, Elstrin smacks the bird off her knee, the pudgy owl quickly flapping its' wings and hooting in loud indignation, her own self control lacking, as she yells the answer to teh question: "Well don't you see the two ash piles? Even I can put two and two together!"
Her brains kicks back into gear slowly and she realizes she said that out loud, then tries to make herself small.

After the body is dropped, Zedmir stands and a hand begins to glow with a white light, the instinct to heal strong. But he doesn't move from his position, nor cast anything as it becomes quite clear that all the elves are far beyond mortal help. He looks to the judges, still standing.

Joran looks with an almost impassive cast to his viridian gaze down to the corpse dropped before those gathered, hands settled into his lap. He briefly drifts his attention in Dunlain's direction at the questions offered, but overall seems more like he's been cut from stone for all of the visible reaction he shows.

Thorin's eyes widen and brows arch when Sylindra walks in and presents...the accused. He watches, transfixed.

Arminel leans forward a bit, an eyebrow arching at the development here. Still, though, the Lorandi remains quiet, playing the part of the observer. A glance is given towards the body, then his attention returns to remain on the judges' box.

The little Elder of Gala sits up straight, tucking her bunny inside her robe. A snap of Luthien's fingers and the snow wolf and leopard get up, Idril to her left and Rosalie to her right. She focuses a gaze on Sylindra and says, "Tell the court what happened, how this serves Gala's mercy, Baridon's law, and Estril's justice." She looks to Zedmir, and with a gentler voice, she says, "He is well and truly dead, guildmaster? Can you examine the body to give an accounting? What is this ash? Whose clothing? What bundles?"

Nalaea has joined the Right Lectern.

Azariah glances towards Dunlain when he starts asking questions, then towards the others. Then she glances towards the remains before she lets her attention resettle on those in the judges' box.

Only having just barely found a seat, Nalaea finds herself rising partly out of it as the body is delivered. She doesn't say anything -- there's enough of that going on as it is -- but she does cast a stare towards the Thalerith group.

Danai enters late, gathers only from the actions of the others that this is not the normal proceeding for a court of souls, and hurries to a seat next to thorin lest she be mistaken to have another role in the proceedings than confused onlooker

Lyandra, though many seemed to be becoming agitated within the shrine, remained almost perfectly still, only her eyes scanning from the bodies to the Warlord and to each of the Thalerith that had come in with her. As the flame Speaker came to stand not far from where she was sitting, she did offer him a glance, her expression showing that she took some small amount of comfort in the presence of the spiritual leader of her kinship.

With permission granted from the judges box, Zedmir quietly approaches to perform an examination while others are speaking. He sets to work, first going through the evidence physically, before eventually transferring to reaching out with the lifewell to learn more. There is a gentleness to it, a new onlooker might expect that Marill was only sleeping. The whole process takes handful of minutes, for the guildmaster is methodical and thorough.

Danai has joined the Right Lectern.

"We are fine Sir Dunlain, the attackers are all dead, those piles of ash are what's left of their corpses," the Warlord says calmly to the Blood Templar. Then she turns to the Court of Souls to explain. "I bring my sincerest apologies to the Court of Souls, we were attacked, it all happened very quickly, Marril took advantage of the confusion to grab one of their swords," she points to one of the scimitars in the piles, "and went after his sister Azariah. At that moment my Blade Sworn Zymandi came in and acted on instinct. It was over very quickly."

Zymandi waits for Sylindra to respond officially, but her greenish eyes shift to Zedmir like little spikes, and she says quietly, "Perhaps my cousin Azariah could benefit from a healer, as she is still alive."

Zedmir checked intellect + restoration at difficulty 35, rolling 15 higher.

Seren sits intently watching what is happening with soft conversation shared with those around her. She leans into Rawlin at one point and says something to him only to settle back and turn her attention to Nagestos. Nothing as so loud as to interrupt as Sylindra explains and Zedmir steps up to inspect.

Catlith then turns to look towards the ash pile, her gray gaze narrowing for a moment. From there, it moves to those who accompanied Sylindra here. "And you confirm this account?," she presses, dark eyes flicking back and forth between the lot of them.

Forwen sits on the edge of her seat, blinking as the scene unfolds with occasional comments to those around her.

Dunlain sighs softly and quickly steps to the side and speaks with a Templar who hustles off. It isn't more than a moment later that the sounds of metal clad bodies fill the stone yard outside with a cacaphony of clatter. Dunlain then moves back to his post next to the box and stands guard, hand not moving from the hilt of his falchion, but eyes intently focused on the entrance.

"I'm fine until this is over." Azariah replies with a shake of her head, then she pauses at Catlith's question about confirmation, a quiet snort offered, "You think that I just stabbed myself in the..." She starts, then bites it back before concluding instead, "What the Warlord said is the truth."

"Yes, High Priestess," Zymandi focuses on Catlith, opening her mouth again with a glance at Sylindra and Azariah. "There was a coordinated attack on the Spire. When I made it to the Warlord, my-- Marril was swinging a sword right at Azariah. I killed him. There were bodies.. everywhere."

Nagestos has spoken softly and briefly with the occasional person near him but he's largely silent. His expression has not softened at too many occasions. He finally decides to pull out his pipe and begins to puff away slowly, still occasionally speaking softly near him.

Danai keeps her eyes mostly trained on zedmir as he examines the situation

Finishing a quick prayer before standing, Zedmir finishes the examination and comes a little closer to the judges' box. When there is a spot open he speaks, loud enough for all to hear. "Elder Luthien, Marril Devrien has indeed returned to the Wheel. The evidence supports the story. Marril's cause of death was a small blade. It was an efficient and clean strike, one we all know Blade Sworn Zymandi is capable of. He was likely dead before he knew it. He also has electrocution marks, something Scholar Azariah would have no trouble conjuring. Again, the evidence and the information presented here appear to be in harmony." he nods and takes a step back, ready if there is any further questioning.

Nagestos looks over for a moment as trial proceeds and seems to narrow his eyes in thought as he puffs on his pipe and says, "Dead?" There is a hesitant question in his voice. He seems to be speaking with Seren in hushed tones as well.

The large snow wolf next to Luthien looks up at her as Zedmir speaks, and Luthien nods to Zedmir once he is finished examining the body. "Thank you, Guildmaster, for that assessment. That his death was quick, at least, was a mercy. Please tend to the wounded." She offers Zedmir a fleeting smile before turning her attention back to the Judges' box, where she speaks quietly.

Zymandi closes her eyes briefly, and then studies the dead body of Marril.

At the first reply from Azariah, Catlith's eyes swing to her. They linger there, a weighty gaze that is unblinking for far, far too long. A few words pass between those in the judge's lectern. "No, madame, I do not. But I have spent most of my life in the service of the Doomsayer and in that time, I have often found the judgment of those who are shocked, grieving, or afraid to be questionable, their testimony confused, and witnesses to often contradict one another even when each believes themselves to be telling the utmost truth." Her lips purse together.

"There is little question that Marrill Devrien was Awakened, though the presence of a representative of the Healers' Guild was intended to ensure precisely that -- that even though he himself believed he was Awkwaened, that his behavior was not some unknown malady of the brain, that there was no unknown illness, that may have brought on the madness which was described in the Thalerith's report." Here Catlith pauses again. "Nor do I consider it impossible that some well-meaning but misguided elf might consider such a death a kinder fate than Reaping, and have intended this attack to be on Marrill Devrien alone as some act of mercy. They would be wrong. The gods are clear on the only fate that may be allowed for the Awakened. In returning his soul to the Wheel, these attackers have instead condemned him to another life torn and tormented by far too many memories to be held in one mind, and worse, risked further imbalance of all of those souls in Lord Brundir's care. The question of what may done to ease his pain and his passing into Estril's hands can no longer be answered, and the laws of the gods have been denied. This in itself is a grave offense and must be dealt with. I will ask all of those witness to the attack to provide their testimony to the Blood Templars and for the Warlord's pledge of the full support of the Thalerith in hunting down the truth of who these criminals are and the identity of any who may have coordinated with them. Until then, I ask the gods represented by this court to provide us with their blessing and guidance, and will seek the counsel of Lord Brundir's priests and oracle on what may be done in his name. I suggest that all present pray to the same."

"Will the Court wish a more detailed explanation of events?" the Warlord asks. "I can provide one right here and now."

This time it's Rosalie that Luthien is petting quietly as she looks over Marill, the Blade Sworn, the Warlord. "I should like a more detailed explanation of events," she says, inclining her head to Sylindra.

"I can provide my full account when ever." Azariah replies, checking her shoulder once more before she glances at Dunlain, checking with him maybe on when that might be wanted.

Zymandi doesn't say anything, her eyes narrowing a little as she looks at the dark red color embedded under her fingernails.

Dunlain hesitates for a long moment, hand hovering over the handle of his blade before he slowly forces himself to get out journal and charcoal. He scribbles a few things on the paper before watching the Warlord intently. A glance is given towards Azariah before his attention is on the woman in the middle of the shrine.

Lyandra frowned, as she listened to the words of the High Priestess of Baridon. It was obvious that she had a question born of those words, but rather than blurt it out, she simply remained at her place, focus intent on the play of words between the gathered. The judges and the Thalerith contingent.

Thorin discusses quietly with his cousin from his seat along the right side of the court. Though it's mostly sidelong glances and whispered words as his eyes remain focused on the unfolding events in the center of the room.

"Very well then," the Warlord says with a nod, and begins her tale. "Azariah Devrien, who is present here today, requested to meet her brother one last time before he was turned over to the Court of Souls. I allowed it since the last time had gone poorly, as mentioned in my report, and I hoped that they might have the chance to part in good terms before Marril's soul left this world forever. No sooner had she arrived and the two of them exchanged some words, when the door to the quarters where he was being held suddenly opened, and a ball of red cloth rolled into the room. I heard the word 'Shroud' being uttered and the cloth burst into flames, filling the room with smoke that dulled the senses. Apparently they used the same thing to fill the rest of the Warlord's Spire with such smoke, knocking out everyone in it, but I proved far too tough for it. When the attackers burst into the room, I was holding my spear and ready for them."

"There were four intruders, all Thalerith, armed with scimitars, their heads hooded and faces hidden behind wrappings so I could not distingish their features. They said that they were there to take Marril to his trial, and demanded I not interfere. I'm sure they were, and also I'm the Queen of Duindar," the Warlord says mockingly.

"Obviously I was not about to let this pack of fools attack /my/ Spire, disable /my/ Blade Sworn, and make off with /my/ prisoner," she snarls angrily. "So I defended myself, and ran two of them through with my spear in quick succession, while Azariah burnt the other two to death with her evocation. Their leader shouted something about how I didn't understand when I stabbed him in the throat, perhaps I should have let him finish. Really though, they should have brought ten men if they wanted a fair fight against us."

"As the last one fell, Marril grabbed one of their swords and charged Azariah with it, who parried the blow with her sword and counter-attacked with lightning bolts. That is when my Blade Sworn Zymandi entered the room. She had been away from the Spire, and one of my guards managed to escape the smoke and sought her out. Marril follow-up swing was going straight at Azariah's neck as if to take off her head, so Zymandi acted with commendable celerity and ended it with one thrust of her dagger into Marril's heart. While it is regretable that Marril's soul has gone back to the Wheel to ruin a future life, my Blade Sworn's heroic quick thinking saved Azariah's life in the here and now," the Warlord continues, nearing the end.

"Afterwards, the bodies of the four attackers suddenly burst into flames and burnt down to ash. There was nothing recognizeable left among their effects, just their weapons, ash, and some charred scraps of clothing. All of which you see here," the Warlord finishes. "Nobody else in the Spire was hurt, the smoke knocked them all out but they seem to be recovering."

The guildmaster gives a nod to Luthien and returns to the side of the stage closer to his original seat, shaking his head a bit, clearly not pleased with the loss of life that has transpired this day.

Seren goes still at the explanation of events, her brows furrowing as she looks to those near her and stops her whisper with the Archmage. She instead leans in and turns her head to speak to her husband. A shake of her head given to send white gold hair into movement.

Zymandi watches Sylindra under her eyelashes and then shifts her focus to Zedmir briefly. She cleans dried blood off her fingers with a small cloth as she listens.

Azariah remains quiet through the retelling, her attention seeming to be focused somewhere else. Real close attention isn't being paid to what is being said.

Catlith frowns as the tale is recounted and it deepens with each additional word. Truly, it will be a wonder if her face isn't well-lined by the time she reaches her third century. "While I am grateful for the survival of all present and the safety of those remaining in your capital, Warlord, I cannot truly say that any of what you've recounted is reassuring. Quite the opposite." Her chin lifts. She looks, briefly, to Rawlin before her attention returns to Sylindra. "Would you be willing to coordinate with the High Council on further investigation?"

Puss arrives, following Shakian.

Shakian slips in quietly and goes to stand in the back.

Rawlin offers Catlith a slight bowing of his head, but remains silent for the time being.

Dunlain writes down literally every detail of Sylindra's recounting of events while he simultaneously moves over to investigate the evience on the floor. He shifts his backpack momentarily so he can pull out a small belt pouch and a white leather belt that he quickly wraps around his waist. From the pouch he pulls hardened leather triangles stamped with numbers and letters on them. He sets down a triangle with the number 32 on it next to the piles of ash, stands up, turns the page, and begins to sketch. After a moment he then moves to set down the number 13 next to the body of Marill and repeats the sketching process. As he moves to set down another triangle next to the weapons, this being A6, he asks, "Their combat techniques, you were familiar with them? If you fought with an array of warriors from different houses, you'd be able to tell if one of them had the same style of combat training as your attackers?" Full investigator mode activated.

Dunlain gets a white leather belt with golden scales rivetted on from a leather backpack with a black dagger wreathed in white flame.

Luthien listens to Sylindra with a concerned look on her face, her blue eyes troubled. She lowers her voice to speak at the box she sits in, and when Dunlain speaks, she turns her attention to him, watching him as he moves around and speaks with the Warlord.

Dunlain checked perception + investigation at difficulty 30, rolling 3 higher.

Zymandi stands very still, watching Catlith and Luthien closely. And Joran too, the third silent representative of the Court.

Arminel stands from his place atop the benches on the left side of the court, shaking his head a moment. He gives a nod back in Rawlin in Seren's direction, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips, all things considered. One last glance to the front, and the Serannar departs.

Arminel has left the Left Lectern.

Shakian has joined the Left Lectern.

Azariah's continuing to remain silent, eyes shifting to follow Dunlain.

While there've been no words that have carried to the gathering at large from the representative of Estril, it might've been obvious to those who have been keeping an eye on the Judges' box that Joran has been turning his attention to the other two sitting judges of the court every so often to offer gestures or hushed words, but otherwise appears to have no intention at this point to speak to the gathering at large.

Lyandra shifted in her seat, gaze turning from the Warlord, to the Counsel, to the Guildmaster. She never lingered long, her gaze a bird that only skimmed the water as she took in the entirety of the room. A twitch of her sleeves, settled her hands, as her gaze finally settled on her twin.

"Of course the High Council shall have my full cooperation, and the Thalerith will spare no effort into finding the parties responsible for this attack," the Warlord affirms to Catlith with a nod. "However, given the effort they put into covering their tracks, I do not expect that we will find anything." She turns to Dunlain at that, "You can see for yourself that the swords are as generic as they come. No decorations, no maker's marks, you could lose them in an armoury. As for how they fought, like any other Thalerith I would say, the way we train our soldiers in the fighting pits. The one thing that was different was their fanaticism, they just did not quit. Azariah set two of them on fire and they charged her as their bodies burned. Their leader said they welcomed death. Might have been a fun fight if they'd sent in a few more to keep it interesting. Pity that."

Zymandi checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

Zymandi sweeps some of her glossy hair back, her eyes narrowing even further as she shifts restlessly on her feet. "I would not in this case have preferred a more difficult match."

The faintest twitch touches the corner of Jarlanen's mouth as Sylindra comments on how the fight might have been fun with more effort, but just as quickly the expression smoothes back into one of a more impassive one, just studying the Warlord, then glancing at the three Judges, to listen to the exchange while he leans.

Azariah glances over at Sylindra when she mentions wishing that the fight had been more fun with more enemies. There is an upwards twitch of her brows before she frowns, shaking her head a fraction before glancing back towards the Judges.

While he's still not spoken, the expression on Joran's features speaks volumes as his head cants forward, lips and brows flattening into a line, and his lidded gaze falls even further in Sylindra's direction, at apparently the same remark that triggered a more subdued response from Jarlanen. Instead of quickly fading, there's a slow cycling of breath, nostrils flaring with an intake and chest falling with the exhale as he straightens himself and returns to silent impassivity.

Catlith turns towards the box, murmuring a few words with Luthien and Joran. Another pass of discussion between them and then she says, "In that case, I would see this court dismissed for the time being. Further questions will likely follow from the Templars and unless there are any objections, the evidence brought here given into their custody." A sharp nod is given to Dunlain at that. "Thank you all for your time, your patience, and your honesty."

Danai blinks at the warlord's words and does a scan to gauge other reactions in the room

Thorin's eybrows arch as he looks toward first the Warlord and then the High Priestess.

Dunlain finishes sketching all the evidence and then hms softly as he stands straight, gently stretching from having squatted a lot in full steel plate armor. He looks to the priestess, "An investigation will definitely be underway immediately, please no one disturb this evidence." he then hollars out through the entryway and a platoon of knights marches into the shrine and sets up guard positions throughout. "Knights have been sent to line the paths to the portals, and patrols are constantly sweeping the city. I wish you a safe rest of your time in Thelos." he looks to Sylindra, "I am sure there will be follow up questions happening soon enough. I'll also need access to the Spire all the rooms therein without anyone accompanying me, I'll be there soon enough to begin documenting the evidence." he looks to Luthien for a brief moment, and then heads out of the shrine swiftly.

Finally, Lyandra lifted a hand, that subtle gesture that called for attention, though she did not immediately ask her question. Instead, she simply kept her gaze fixed on the judges.

A tilt of the head at the templar's words. Zedmir looks around, seeing if anyone else thinks it's strange for an investigation to happen without accountability.

Azariah doesn't wander off just yet, instead she glances in the direction of the 'evidence' that is there. Most attention focused very briefly on her brother's body before she looks back at the judges, chin lifting just a fraction.

Mitzi, a mischievous little ice elemental leaves, following Dunlain.

Zymandi's hands go white-knuckled at her sides as she follows Dunlain out with her eyes, and then she flicks a look at Sylindra.

Luthien watches Dunlain leave with the barest glimmer of a smile, then she stands up, her animals rising with her. She curtsies to Catlith and nods to Joran, in the box, before she steps out of it. "I suggest we all pray, as an affront against the gods' justice has been committed. Pray for forgiveness." Luthien turns and kneels in front of the box, bowing her head to pray.

As it did not seem that she would be acknowledged, Lyandra rose from her seat, "I wish to ask a question of the Court."

Jarlanen straightens up a little when the court is at least temporarily dismissed, glancing over at Lyandra when she stands to ask a question. A momentary glance is given over the rest of the assembly, checking for faces he may have missed that came in after things had begun, but seeing none of the rest of his family, the Flame Speaker remains where he is, not quite ready to start moving.

"You may keep all evidence of course, and Sir Dunlain shall be given access to the parts of the Spire that were attacked, that he may find and document whatever clues have been left behind," the Warlord says. "However, I implore you to conduct your examination of Marril quickly. I want his body returned to the next of kin before rot sets in, that they may do with it as they wish." She catches Zymandi's glance and leans close to whisper something to her.

Thorin's head swivels up to look at Lyandra when she rises and speaks.

The guildmaster moves more to the back of the shrine, attempting to complete the task his elder asked of him a few minutes ago.

Luthien finishes her prayer and rises, looking toward Lyandra. She nods her head. "What is your question?" she asks, in a gentle tone.

"....I do not consider the body of a fallen elf to be 'evidence', Warlord, and unless requested by the Templars," she looks to Dunlain, and then to Zedmir, "or with some particular oddity noted by the Healers' Guild, would not wish to delay his return to his sister and his people for a proper funeral." Catlith, frankly, looks displeased at the very suggestion.

"This Court was convened to see the justice of the Gods done. It seems to me, that the will and judgement of the gods cannot be so easily thwarted. That the death of the body which housed the Soul would render Estril unable to do the duty that has been given to her. If a soul is judged, she must act. Is that not her charge and purpose? The soul which lived in Marril Devrien may have returned to the Wheel, but it is Brundir who plucks a soul from it, and Estril who judges it. Could this still not be done? if the Court renders its judgement, must they not act as the Court decides? Is that not the pact that has been made between the elves and the gods?"

Lyandra's voice was quiet, the question rounding the edges of her words.

A vigorous shake of the head to the High Priestess' question. It seems the Healers Guild has no reason to lengthen the grieving process this day.

Luthien looks at Lyandra and with a puzzled expression climbs back in the box to discuss this with the others.

Zymandi says, "You would pull my cousin's soul from the Wheel and give him no chance to defend himself, and ask the gods to reap him on nothing but the word of elves he never met?"

Zymandi's voice is frigid.

Seren watches those that linger even after it is called to an end and she shakes her head, "Nothing more can be done here. Archmage, thank you for speaking with me. I look forward to hearing from you. Rawlin, should we go?" She asks of him and starts to rise gently to her feet. "Forwen..I suggest leaving." She casts a glance aside at those exchanging frosty words.

"This was part of my intention in addressing the priesthood and Oracle of Lord Brundir, madame," Catlith replies, though her head inclines towards Luthien. "Unless you are asking us judge the dead, which is another matter entirely."

Rawlin allows Seren to get to her feet although he remains seated. "You can go ahead, my love. I'm afraid I am going to stay until this has been completed in truth." He pats her hand lovingly for the moment as he murmurs something towards her.

Sylindra check composure

Sylindra checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 2 lower.

Azariah's attention shifts towards Lyandra, then towards Catlith, her jaw clenching just a moment. But whatever thoughts she might have regarding the questions remain unspoken.

Thorin furrows his brow as he looks up at Lyandra and then frowns, turning his attention to the others as they respond.

Luthien checked wits + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Lyandra turned her gaze to Zymandi, "No, Zym." Her tone, no longer questioning, was gentle. For Zymandi had long been her friend, "I am asking a question, in the light of the judgement of the Court that we now bear a different sentence, that of falling to ensure that the will of the gods and the judgement of the Court be done." She returned her attention to Catlith, "That is not my request, but a question. If, as you say, that an Awakened soul is a threat to the Wheel, then the danger to us all is not past. Thank you for answer." And with a nod of respect to the three judges, Lyandra reclaimed her seat.

Rawlin checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 83 higher.

Catlith checked wits + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 17 higher.

Seren checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 46 higher.

Thorin checked wits + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 63 higher. Thorin rolled a critical!

Nagestos checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 8 lower.

Nalaea checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

Jarlanen checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 7 higher.

Lyandra checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 13 higher.

Sylindra winces at her daughter's question, but says nothing with respect to it. Instead she turns to Azariah and motions at the impassive soldier who carried Marril's body into the courtroom, "If you wish, I can have my man here deliver your brother's body in its shroud at the Devrien compound so you may prepare for his funeral."

Thorin leans in to speak to Lyandra after she sits down.

Zymandi seems cagey, turning away from Lyandra to look at the dead body of Marril again. "If someone is going to be judged it's me. And I will not apologize for killing one cousin to protect another, even if it was in the heat of the moment."

Luthien checked charm + empathy at difficulty 15, rolling 24 higher.

There is a look to Lyandra as she speaks and Nalaea's brow furrows. She remains seated and with an alert body language. Still, after a moment, there comes a small shake of her head.

Joran affects a sigh at the continued proceedings, lips pursed and gaze flitting from one party to the next.

Rawlin coughs and stands up, "Lord Brundir will be the one to decide what happens to the soul of Marril Devrien. The texts that I have read have all been clear, for Lady Estril to perform her duty of reaping a soul, this must be done before the soul has gone to Lord Brundir. Once it has gone back to the Wheel, Lord Brundir alone can decide what happens to it. So what we discover in our investigations should be directed to High Priestess Ayalith, Brundir's Priesthood and to Lord Brundir himself."

"Zymandi, nobody is judging you for killing to protect your cousin. It must've been a very difficult thing, to have to kill one cousin to protect another. Because of you, Azariah stands. If you need forgiveness for such action, you are sure to receive it," says Luthien, pitching her voice with soothing tones, leaning toward Zymandi. "You may come and see me in the shrine of Gala if you wish to talk further, but be proud of defending a life." A curl falls in her face and Luthien blows on it to push it back. "Thank you, High Priest Rawlin. I urge you all to pray. If you are concerned, as we all should be, for the Wheel, pray that Brundir remit the soul to Estril."

"Nor should you apologize, you did well Zymandi, it was a good kill," the Warlord agrees with her Blade Sworn.

Lyandra tipped her head, listening to Thorin's words, before she answered herself.

Zymandi looks from Luthien to Sylindra, and then to Azariah. She does not seem overly comforted. She makes a small noise and turns, hands flexing at her sides as she leaves the shrine.

Barfolemew, a small sand cat, Catoctin - a happy squeaking otter leave, following Zymandi.

"I would appreciate his body being returned to the family." Azariah replies to the offer of the guard carrying him back to the Devrien compound. Her eyes flick back and forth between everyone for a moment, "We're done here, yeah?"

Lyandra, who turned her gaze to Rawlin, again offered that nod of respect, "Thank you, High Priest." As it seemed that she had no further questions, Lyandra as well seemed to be preparing to leave.

Luthien nods to Azariah. "Yes. Heal well."

Thorin rose up from his seat along with Lyandra, offering a quiet goodbye to Danai.

There is a sharp nod of reply from Catlith to the question. "Yes."

Nalaea has left the Right Lectern.

"Yeah it looks like we're wrapping up," the Warlord says to Azariah. Then she turns to her burly soldier, "Grunte, wrap Marril in his shroud and follow Azariah home."

Elstrin checked intellect + theology at difficulty 15, rolling 55 higher. Elstrin rolled a critical!

Danai nods thorin and moves to depart herself

Grunte the brurly Thalerith warrior does as he is bid.

When Lyandra's question seems to be resolved and Sylindra speaks to Azaria, Jarlanen finally lurches into motion, flicking a curious look over at Joran and the Judges, then finally steps forward towards the Warlord to wait for her and her entourage to head out.

Nalaea gets up from her seat as things appear to be winding down. She looks introspective, folding hands into the sleeves of her robe as she begins to make her way out.

Lyandra, did not, at least, look as though she was making to follow the Zymandi had taken, but simply tried to find her way out of the court and back into the chill of Thelos in winter.

Danai has left the Right Lectern.

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