RP:Queen Takes Corruption's Pawn

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Josleen questions Jarith and doesn't like his answers. Thinking him dangerous, she calls in the big boss, King Macon. Jarith invokves Frostmaw, and the King and Queen want to avoid another confrontation with the City fo War. Together, they decide to exile Jarith from the Hard City.

Fort Freedom, Larket

Jarith || The knight had continued without further input, and other than ensuring his effects were in safe keeping the male had followed Josleen into what had likely been the old Council Meeting Room. What remained was a roofless mess of crumbling stone, a half-destroyed table and four, possibly five still usable chairs. Not that he used one, the warlord hadn’t even been a kind to use his own throne in the days long past. He thought better on his feet, and to be straightforward felt more comfortable moving about than sitting still. As still and quiet Jarith was, in the not so gone past a much more relaxed being. That was something he no longer held time for. Those blue eyes shifted from the ruined council hall and back to the Queen. Josleen was a shade taller than his ex-wife and yet both of them seemed to have a knack for the leadership role being a queen took. Rumiko had never questioned him as evil though, and that was where the comparison had ended. “So, if I might be so bold. How can I help you, Lady Sovereign, Josleen of Larket.” A far outdated form of titling a queen, a hint at just how old those court politics were in his mind. If he was distracted or bothered by the guard he did not hint to it, as they had followed, just in case he was more dangerous than he seemed.

Josleen stands, if Jarith stands. She keeps her distance beyond the length of his arm and several guards stand stationary along the walls. Although Jarith is right that ruling comes easily to her, that she does not hesitate to give orders, he may also notice that based on her soft features and curves and expensive dress that she's never seen combat personally. She cannot even throw a punch, making her willingness to confront others a statement on her faith in her ability to escape harm, be it through her charm or her guard, and pehaps a boldness bordering on ill-advised. And yet, here she is, confrontational and in one piece. "You warned my guard at the sinkhole that you would not chance a repeat of current events. Which events and why would you be responsible for their reptition?"

Jarith was an astute study, despite anyone believing to the contrary. Josleen’s own traits, quirks and abilities were something that while she may not label, he himself found, confident, justice-driven, a bit overzealous, perhaps not untrained, but likely unpracticed. The fact that she was blunt was in a way, rather refreshing to him, he hadn’t been much for court politics or round about answers. Yet, tonight unfortunately he knew he would have to be that person he’d hated. He was going to have to avoid giving too much detail and instead focus on the more poignant matters in her question. “ I warned your guard against starting a violent act based on his actions. I’m a paid blade M’lady, in my line of work it is always wise to avoid confrontation with someone you may intend to do business with in the future should they ever have need. As to the recent events, suffice to say that there are some things from my past that I am trying rather adamantly to control and expel from my life. Unfortunately, at times I don’t win the battle and the results are deeply regrettable.” He paused, though his features had not changed from the rather calm and collected façade he always held in company, it seemed almost matter of fact. His mind wandered to the nightmares he held, and the ones created more recently when his loss of control led to Corruption nearly destroying part of the wedding party, as well, one of his dearest new friends. The only indication his thoughts had drifted was the slight movement of his fingers, spinning the dark-jeweled band on the opposite hand subconsciously before a blink of those eyes brought the nomad back and he focused again on Josleen. “ As such, as he had the ability to start violence with his action, it would still have been my fault if something had taken place and caused damage or heartache to the city. I feel that, both Frostmaw and Larket have seen enough of their share in such things as of late. “ It wasn’t a lie, he held himself accountable to keeping any modicum of peace when at all possible and even as a fallen knight, still pushed for the greater good.

Don't lie to a liar. Jarith's excuse that he simply warned the guard against confrontation fall on unconvinced ears. "You say if you lose a battle the results are deeply regrettable. To who?" His gaze grows distant and she can tell his minds linger far from here, though she cannot possibly guess what. "Damage or heartache to the city how? If you care so much for Larket, as you claim, then you would share this with me. Otherwise, I am afraid I must assume you harbor secrets that threaten the city's safety, and thus cannot release you."

Jarith gave a glance at the collection of guards before looking to the room and back at Josleen with a pointed focus. “Let me clarify something, Queen Josleen. You don’t have to like me, I rightly couldn’t give a damn. What little I’ve learned about the battle between Larket and Frostmaw from a mixture of bad rumor and the nastiness of war is that you were made a queen to attain peace. I am Jarith Donnave, and in the time before your husband, King Macon, and your former Queen Hildegarde I served as a knight for the greater good of these lands, and I made a deal with the devil myself. Call it strange irony to me that you have done similar. My choices then caused the deaths of many evil creatures, but they also cost many dear friends and my soul, it brought a tentative peace. The cost is one I am still paying to this day, a cost I am trying to rid myself of.” He didn’t glare, he didn’t boast and rather than raise his voice it remained that strange and even depth of honey. “In the power I gained to save people that mattered, lands that mattered to me, was something dark, ancient, and sentient. It doesn’t pick sides, it cares about two things only, magic and power. You don’t know me, so you don’t have to believe me, but you may ask anyone I mentioned before. For months, I have been fighting and tirelessly seeking a solution before that power takes control again and every ounce of good I ever did is laid to waste by its actions. The solution is found, the mages I needed are acquired and the table is prepared. I am three days from being able to see my children again, from being able to return to my life as a Knight…” He paused and lifted his hand long enough to drop the sliver of magic he did use to make that portion of skin look natural. The fingertips up to his forearms looks as if he’d soaked them in black ink. All save the ring and it’s dark stone which could be seen more clearly now, glowing dimly with power. “ From being able to know without a doubt every action will be my own again… I was called the Knight of Corruption, I corrupted the Knights of Vakarash, I destroyed them and their kin to keep the peace in these lands. Kasyr is one of the only friends other than Lionel I have remaining from that time. The corruption however, turned on me when I finished my task. It is never resting, and it takes joy in the agony it causes, not just to others but to me. I live every day with the nightmares of what it did when I lost control. -That- is what I meant when I asked to avoid violence. When I am this close to being free of it, and when the only thing protecting those I care about, and myself from it is a ring that was fashioned in a panicked rush by mages and myself seeking only to hold it off again. Yes… I think I’ve earned the right to be heard on that front.” He dropped the digits, looking again around the room. “If I wanted any harm to befall you or your people, my Queen, I would not have come with you tonight, I would have fought you with everything I am as a Knight and even if you’d won, you would have lost because of that evil being. Now, if you believe someone to be at fault for these quakes, I will gladly aid you in any fashion I can, but I will not do it from a jail cell. To blame me would also be foolish, as I have never in my life held an affinity with the earth in any form or fashion. Tried growing flowers once, failed so miserably that my daughter banned me from her garden even to this day.” There may have been the hint of a joke at the end, bringing up something true and still quite amusing to him about his family. His hands shifted back to their normal tan with the aid of the very little magic he chanced to use, and having told her in no uncertain terms that his cooperation would go only as far as answering questions and aiding her as a free being, Jarith did not elaborate. To say he lacked tact might be accurate and yet, he was not an astute liar, he never held an affinity for that either, which was why the queen got a real response in her second demand rather than another diversion.

Josleen begins to back away from Jarith as he rants. She wonders if he is schizophrenic, as his tale is too fantastic, too steeped in grandeur and paranoia to be true. He describes himself as dangerous, very dangerous, but also to be wholly entrusted in controlling himself--or else. It isn't a very good pitch, and when Jarith reveals his corrupted black hand, the queen gasps and takes a large step back. A guard steps forward, glaring at the man but not yet attacking. He does place a hand on his sword. This interrogation just went above her rank. Josleen feels vindicated in suspecting Jarith, and the King must be notified immediately. She does not laugh at Jarith's joke. Instead, she says, "Stay put." She signals for only one guard to follow her outside, the youngest and weakest, and she sends him sprinting through the fort with a message for King Macon. || The young guard pants when he finds Macon wherever he is. He says that the Queen arrested a suspicious character, who claims to be Corrupted with some ancient terrible power, who is responsible for some catastrophe, and has exposed his black hand as proof of his power and claim. The Queen asks for the King to come deal with this post haste. The boy then leads Macon to the room where Jarith is being questioned. Josleen paces outside and greets Macon. She doesn't follow him inside, but instead waits outside, pacing, until told to move.

Jarith watched the queen react and oddly didn’t find it amusing, his joke had been made more in tune to the tragic irony of the whole situation. He didn’t know who was responsible, if anyone for the earthquake, but he hadn’t lied when stating that he would not be staying in the Kingships jail-time care to alleviate any misguided sense of right the queen or her king had subsequently found. The Guards remained and Jarith had not bothered to reach for any weapon and as mentioned previously, his magic was something that he could not call upon without risk, which meant he would avoid it unless pressed. Still unarmed as he’d sacrificed his sword and shield willingly and allowed Josleen to escort him here, Jarith still could feel his old weapons, and should the night continue to burn further southwards he would need to call upon them. The hasty exit of the queen and the smaller knight only confirmed that notion and when the guard moved to draw his blade Jarith gave a warning, calm and even. “ Don’t… I’m not here to hurt you. I would rather not tread that path.” With the queen gone how wondered just how much good will he could expect, and there wasn’t likely much, if his luck could be bet upon as it were. Macon’s sudden entry brought the quirk of dark brows, Jarith turned cautiously and kept the remains of that broken table betwixt himself and the arrived King, but did not comment as of yet.

Macon is briefed on the situation at least twice, once by the young guard sent to fetch him, who does a poor job of describing Jarith’s whole corrupted hand thing. The weak description earns an impatient growl from the death knight and they are soon off towards the council meeting room, a part of the fort Macon’s opinions of are well documented. Outside of the room the king receives a bit more information from Josleen when he greets her warmly. He has already been made aware of the sinkhole that has opened up at the southeastern corner of his city before even the guard came to bring him here. The Rage Knight is fully decked out, in full armor other than substituting the marble crown of Larket for a helm, with the empty Rage Axe strapped to his back, the head of the great weapon down by his hip while the long handle extends a few inches past his full height to the side of his head. Upon entering the room, Macon’s slate stare first finds the guards stationed inside to verify who he is working with. The men receive quick nods before that stone gaze levels on the man the queen has brought in. “I ‘ave ‘eard you are remarkably suspicious… and ‘ave made vague threats towards the queen.” That second part is forced out through a growl before The Fury Knight makes his offer, “You ‘ave one chance now t’explain yourself. Clearly. I ‘ave no patience for games righ’ now.” With that said something absolutely ridiculous happens. A sealed letter literally pops up out of The King’s own shadow on the floor, flutters upward, and slaps him on the cheek with itself. He blinks and snatches the offending mail out of the air and growls while he tears the envelope open, “The ‘ell is this?” Growling even more while he reads the brief contents. The death knight eyes Jarith once again and asks flatly, “What is your name?”

Jarith watched the male with much the same attention he’d given Josleen. His ability to surmise things with that eerily astute focus allowing for valid points. Strong, perhaps, Lionel-like in such regards, bullish. The battle would be a bloody one, and there wouldn’t be a winner, not really. The air of leadership was there, and it strangely reminded the former Knight of himself, about twelve years younger. Regardless, his attention shifted to the words, and a spark flashed in those tri-ringed eyes of blue. “Threatened? I never once threatened your queen. I stated simple facts, that if I had a desire to do harm to anyone in this kingdom, it wouldn’t have been with this quake, and that I would never have come here and sacrificed my armaments in the process. I also offered to aid your queen and you in finding the culprit, if there is one in this devastating matter.” The note is a comical addition, but the next question pulls from the warlord a deadpan blink. “I am Jarith Donnave, Former Knight, Lord of the House of Donnave, of Frostmaw.” Oh, he probably should have left the town out but then again, he was growing tired of repeating the same information, and it didn’t exactly make him the warm and fuzzy sort either. The Rage Knight and the former Knight of Corruption, this meeting had all the hallmarks of a fete in Hell. Jarith is no less dressed in his own armor, a dark leather, blackened mithril and the black furred cloak complete with wolf-head that perched like a shoulder-pad on his left shoulder. His appearance matches a northern nomad and the warrior braids that have trophies, jewels, and tokens of his past that frame that stoic face all add to the barbaric air one might get when looking at him. It’s a complete opposition to the very cultured voice that rises from the lean, muscled and strange Frostmawian.

Macon turns his head so that he can look at Jarith sideways when he contests that word ‘threatened’. The look he gives is one that says, ‘are you sure you want to call my new wife a liar?’ The king glosses over the talk of culprits and finding the one responsible for the earthquake. Had Josleen mentioned their suspicions to this guy or was he saying something incriminating now? The name the former Knight of Corruption gives matches the one in the letter Valen has so audaciously delivered to the king. The addition of his nationality earns a twitch of the eye from Macon as well as a mild pulse of the infuriating aura he has inherited from his time holding The Rage Stone. The Fury Knight has several things to consider here, and he airs most of them out to the man opposite the table from him, “I ‘ave ‘ear, a message from someone I am inclined to trus’ vouching for you, Jarith Donnave.” He waves the letter back and forth before continuing, “The Queen of Larket is outside these doors tellin’ me tha’ you are extremely suspicious. You are aware tha’ we are at shaky peace with Frostmaw now...” he sneers at that last bit, recalling that he very recently went to war over a Frostmawian prisoner of his, and would not like to repeat such a situation. “Wha’ you do now can ‘arm someone who speaks up for you and threaten the peace tha’ the kingdom you claim t’ail from ‘as so recently achieved.” He glares a stone glare right through the man, “Wha’ will you do. Wha’ should I do?” Clearly he is not actually asking for advice, only implying that the ball is in Jarith’s court. He may be able to decide how this ends.

Jarith actually blinked at the male with something akin to curiosity flickering across his features. “I’m suspicious because I arrived to the scene of a natural disaster and explained that I was lost due to my lack of familiarity in regards to walking in your city?” Towards the paper his eyes flicked before he spoke in response to the baiting. “Your queen hinted you needed answers in regards to the events surrounding the quake and the apparent aftershock that may have caused the hole along the river when she demanded I come for questioning. Despite my innocence, I felt inclined to agree with her demand, treating it as a request instead for help in regards to the tragedy that has fallen your kingdom. I also informed your guard and your queen of my desire to avoid any violence due to the current delicate nature in which I am myself perched. I have no interest in hurting or harming any in this kingdom, a good friend of mine is, I would imagine the deliverer of that notice. While I do not approve of his voicing himself to stand up for me, I do appreciate his attempt.” Valen had very likely made this harder, something inside Jarith simply knew it, all the same he had no intention of being a prisoner, because prison meant time he could ill afford, and time meant Corruption could take hold, permanently. He was three days from being free of that problem, three days from having his son and daughter at his side for longer than a few hours in four years. This man and his wife had no idea what that meant to him.

Macon listens to what Jarith has to say in response to his question. What The Fury Knight gets isn’t so much an answer to what he asked as much as it is a retelling of the events that led them to this moment from the former Corruption Knight’s point of view. The King of Larket moves his slate stare from Jarith to each of the guards in turn, silently asking for them to corroborate his story. For the most part they agree with this telling of events albeit with some hesitation to avoid seeming like they are discounting the queen’s version of the evening. It is now Josleen’s suspicions against this suspicious man’s word (and Valen’s sponsorship). After saying something like ‘Very well…’ Macon exits the council room to retrieve Jarith’s captor. Outside The Rage Knight explains what he has heard from the ‘prisoner’ and shows the queen Valen’s note. He leaves out how in the world it was delivered. He explains Jarith’s claim to be Frostmawian and subtly reminds Josleen that the last two times he held someone from the Kingdom of War captive, it launched a war and saw a dragon bust a hole through his throne room. He wants the bard’s input since it is her suspicions that led to this situation in the first place, and so, after they have discussed what they need to outside, he leads her into the council meeting room where they can give their final decision.

Josleen immediately asks how in the world that latter was delivered! It goes something like ‘What? How?’ She doesn’t push the question, however, and instead focuses on Jarith. When Macon repeats Jarith’s account in a tone that suggests the King may be swayed, or prepared to believe, that crazy man’s account over hers, Josleen’s stare levels on her husband with incredulity, like ‘come on, his version over mine? Really?’ The look is brief and she focuses with a deep breath as she weighs the revelation that Jarith is from Frostmaw. “I don’t know that I can believe anything that comes out of his mouth. He claims to want to help Larket, then with that same breath threatens to ‘lose control’” she air quotes here, “of his ‘current state’” more air quotes, “and recreate ‘recent events’” more air quotes, “which he believes to have been caused by ‘someone’.” Final set of air quotes. “Why would he think the earthquake was the work of a villain? What does he know?” She shakes her head in those tiny, peeved motions that she does. “I don’t know, Macon. Valen is vouching for him, which counts for something.” But not a lot, because on some level, this daughter-of-a-mage’s-guild-member knows, all mages are quacks with strange company, her father included. “This man threatens violence as often as he offers aid. And his arm! You didn’t see it, but it has convinced me that at least what he says about the Corruption is true. And to let –that– loose in the city?” More peeved head shaking. “But you’re right about Frostmaw. We can’t risk another incident.” Her fingers splay over her jaw and lips and her gaze focuses on the middle distance as she thinks through their options. “Exile him.” She looks at her husband to see what he thinks. “Say he threatened my life.” She shrugs and makes a gesture like ‘Who’s going to say otherwise?’ She continues, “He’s a foreigner. Exile him, and if he comes back, then we have grounds to arrest him for violating the exile. That gives us time to talk to Valen and get to the bottom of this—see what Valen knows.” Whether Macon agrees or tweaks or proposal, or changes it entirely, she’ll support his decision. “Your judgment is better than mine in these things.” She follows him inside when he is ready and lets the King do the speaking.

Jarith seems just as calm as he had when this debacle began, and while he wasn’t entirely pleased with the matters or things that Josleen’s suspicions or fears had tossed his way, he wasn’t angry with the new royal. With the mess she had on her hands it was easy to see why she might misconstrue things just to make herself feel safer. None the less, Jarith didn’t speak further on the matter when Macon left the room yet again. By the time the pair decided he could likely have a healthy friendship with at least half the guard, and the amusement of that thought was not something he would note or even show. The northern born’s strange tri-ringed eyes fixated upon the return of the queen and her king, but he remained as he had been before; across the void of a half-destroyed table, patient but wary.

Macon reenters the room with Josleen having already made up his mind following their chat outside. He wastes no time laying down his decision while turning up his nose at the man across the table, “I ‘ave decided t’exile you from Larket. You yourself ‘ave said tha’ you may ‘ave difficulty controlling whatever it is tha’ possesses you.” Same, Jarith. Same. “We canno’ ‘ave a self described danger roaming the streets of our city. Now more than ever. You will be permitted t’leave, as you wish. If you return t’the city, you will be apprehended. ‘Owever… You were brought t’the fort t’answer the queen’s questions, which you agreed t’do. Your release now is conditional on you telling ‘er what she wants to know. Truthfully…” slate stare narrows, “and clearly,” indicating he still has no time for games.

There’s something about the way Macon bosses subordinates and creeps around that really excites the Queen. Though she’s glaring at Jarith to present a united front, she’d rather look at the handsome, strong king. The sooner they get out of here the better. The King passes the baton to her and she asks Jarith a series of questions: How do you know Valen? What is your relationship with Valen? What do you mean when you say you only have 3 days to stay this way permanently? You were suspicious that the earthquake was manmade. Why and by whom? She also asks him a series of special-knowledge Frostmaw questions related to quirky local culture, characters, and sites in the City of War. This is to test whether or not he really is from Frostmaw, which surely the true Frostmawian can pass with ease.

Jarith listened curiously for the passing of time until gifting the male with a subtle blink in response to the exile. He didn’t seem very bothered and perhaps that was because there was always a chance that in the future it could change. Leaving also didn’t seem a poor decision, he had much to do in the way of the upcoming procedure and more to do in the way of the twins birthday party. The condition was something that brought a strange quirk to his brows, but there was not much he’d say against it. “Then she is welcome to ask her questions.” He paused, and while Josleen may have been impressed by Macon, Jarith remains still uniquely even in his response. “ I first met him after the battle at the bridge, a fight I was not allowed to participate in, I came seeking information in regards to my wife. A rumor said she may have participated and I simply went to learn for myself. My search took me to the graveyard where I found Valen, digging graves alone. I joined him, and asked for his help with the information I needed. Valen, has become a very dear friend, he is priceless to me.” There may have been more, but she asked how they met and he gave it as well as what Valen was to him. The third query strikes some note and yet he answers anyways. “In three days I’ve a procedure, something discovered in the ancient ruins on Frostmaw’s old hunting lands. The event, if successful will purge me of the Corruption I have fought for so long. If it fails, it won’t matter, because I will be dead.” Towards the fourth he gives a more thoughtful expression. “I was suspicious because of the few facts I’ve been told. You and King Macon were wed and shortly after an earthquake nearly decimated the city and your keep. Who, I frankly do not know, but I would imagine it is either a very skilled Terramancer, or a being who has rather finely tuned abilities with explosives. The why, is far less certain. It could be an attack against you and the king, or my suspicions could be completely wrong and this could all be a terrible, unlucky natural disaster that just happened to fall on your wedding day.” He paused and when asked questions of Frostmaw including the culture responded with a pause as if to ensure this wasn’t a sort of trick and offer her the answers she sought and add an additional bit she likely was not more aware of. “ Outside of Frostmaw, of which you may be unaware, there are still more isolated groups of Frostmawian people however, like my own sect, which only call the city home for a short time, returning to nomadic lifestyle in the frozen places to the north. “ He would wait for her to respond, having given her a tidbit more information about the region but answered all she had asked. “ Is there anything else you wish to ask me, lady or lord Sovereign of Larket? If not, I’d like to gather my effects, and depart. “

Macon eyes Josleen as she delivers her interrogation and Frostmawian citizenship quiz. He himself can answer several of the questions, but not all of them, so The Rage Knight could not pass as a barbaric Kingdom of War resident. He takes in Jarith’s answers, which are relatively clear, as he demanded them be, and are in line with what the host of Corruption has said previously. There is no real info there pertaining to the earthquake or what may have caused it. ‘The timing is strange. It could have been caused by foul play, or maybe it is just a coincidence.’ That is essentially nothing. That lack of a concrete answer earns a subtle growl, but these are the queen’s questions and, in truth, a punishment she has picked out in the exile, so The Rage Knight looks to her to see if she is satisfied enough to let Jarith leave the fort and the city after those answers.

Josleen is displeased with Jarith still, but knows not to beat a dead horse. His entire demeanor arouses suspicion, but she can’t pin him to anything yet. At least she knows he is from Frostmaw and she can knock on doors and ask questions there. The Queen nods her consent for Jarith to leave. Two guards know to follow Jarith to the city limit (or magic poof-method, whatever he chooses). Josleen looks to Macon and her expression asks what he will do next. If he is free, she would want to go be with him. They have hardly seen each other since the earthquake, the wedding. Just as she is about to suggest they go somewhere more private, Josleen’s secretary appears to remind her that she agreed to meet with the Society ladies again after their last meeting was abruptly disrupted by the sinkhole, and the ladies are here. She had completely forgotten. With her back to the secretary, and her face towards Macon, she grimaces and tenses at the thought of once again being unable to spend time with her husband. She apologizes to him with a sad smile then leaves.