RP:Roldan Cuffs Achaedas

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Built and rebuilt, torn apart and set like stubborn bone, this tavern is the pinnacle of Hollow's entirety, wrought around the premise of peace, equality, and consummate amity. And of course, the old place had seen all of the three, but so much more. Dire markings of claw and steel cut deep into wall panels and floorboards. Set against the land's usual motif of destruction are signs of comfort. Twisting shadows and smoothing out a careful blanket of light with soft, quaint fires, a candelabra dangles down by thick cords, gripping the circular holder. Each twists up, converging upon the center, where they snake about one another and form a thick, secure anchor to Kelay Tavern's high, accommodating ceiling. The candelabra rattle now and again from the inn patrons overhead, pouring down globs of wax to the center of the room, which is wide and unobstructed. Cheaply carpentered tables and chairs grow outward around the bare dancing area, keeping to the rounded theme, and also keeping to a dwarven barkeep's avariciously born taste for 'economical' furniture. Hardly any expense has been wasted on the actual upkeep of the public center though, as can be garnered from the smell of deep pine, rich tobacco, and even richer spirits. Stairs twist away dimly near the high bar. And atop that side rests the inn logs, quill, and ink. This establishment's fine keeper, Mesthak, can be seen smiling out from his post at the bar, straight across to the room's always crackling stone-wrought hearth. Behind him, atop lofty shelves, sits an array of dark, amber, and clear liquids. Food smells waft from somewhere near at hand. A carefully printed and hung sign details the purchasable items here in the place of merriment, loss, laughter, and life. Also, tucked into a corner near one of two windows closest to the tavern doorway is a thickly papered bulletin board. A sign has been added next to the board that reads, 'The management requires patrons be fully inebriated at all times and that no curing spells be performed in this tavern-Thank you'.


-- Kelay Tavern, Kelay

Parsithius gestures toward Archaedas while speaking to either Kelovath or Roldan. "Arrest him again. New evidence incriminates him, and I want him detained."

Parsithius leaves Roldan or Kelovath to deal with Archaedas. If the feline falls under the radar this time, so be it; they'll find him later.

Achaedas's head turned in the direction of Parsithius as he heard his name being spoken. "Wait...what?" The feline stood up, to be ready to attempt to evade any bad thing coming at him.

Roldan stands up, Judgment clearing its sheath in a split-second. He propels himself forward at a startling speed, meaning to throw a shoulder into Achaedus, knocking him off balance. This is followed by a low, sweeping slice that, after severing the leg of a table, scythes at the feline's legs in a vicious attempt to cut the suspect's feet off at the ankle. Even then, Roldan is in motion, slamming his helmeted head down abruptly, in hopes of completing his triple attack by smashing his enemy's face into a red ruin.

Achaedas jumps back the instant that an armor clad man came charming at him. With the reflexes of a cat, he managed to avoid most of the shoulder bash, yet he did not see the blade hungering for his blood coming at his ankles. he moves his feet back just in the nick of time, having a fairly deep cut wound on his bill at his left ankle. Rather immobilized, the feline could do nothing more than shield his face with his arm was he metal object came flying at his face, almost fracturing the bones in his lower arm. The feline resisted to urge to grab his dagger or run into cat form and escape. He decided to merely stand up straight and face his oppenent. "Heh, lackey of the queen's bloodhound, are you?"

Roldan 's allows Achaedas' words to affect him about as much as a fly affects a horse. His left hand, as yet empty, shoots out in an attempt to clench the feline's shoulder in an iron grip. This, should it be successful, is soon followed by a forceful push and twist, capable of knocking the suspect from his feet and slamming him face down onto a table. During this, Roldan's deupty, Jonn, enters the tavern with leg and wrist irons, rope, and an iron-banded cudgel. "You are under arrest for the crime of murder," the Sheriff says. "If you struggle, I will cut off your hands. Continue to struggle, and you will lose your feet. It only gets worse from there."

Achaedas saw the attacks coming at him. Clearly. As a trained rogue, he managed to dodge the first blow with his hands in his pocket, practically. "I suspected that already after overhearing 'them' (nodding in the direction of Thea) over here. Very well, I'll prove to you I did not slaughter her." In truth, the feline didn't like to take the risk of getting his feet cut off.

Roldan gestures to Jonn, who swiftly shackles the feline hand and foot. The chains are heavy links of iron, free of any rust or weakness. Heavy clasps encircle Achaedas' wrists and ankles, joined by those uncomfortably short chains and linked to one another, so that any walking must be done in an awkward hunch. While this is being done, Roldan cleans and sheaths his sword, before taking the cruel cudgel from Jonn. "Unfortunately," he says, his tone suggest that he does not find this all to unfortunate. "I have seen you change size and shape. We cannot have that." The weapon is swung in a short, swift arc toward the back of the suspect's head; apparently, Roldan means to simply knock his prisoner out for the long ride to Larket.

Roldan drags his prize outside, where he deposits it on the back of his horse, mounts up, and rides off.



The smell of fresh white paint hits you first as you enter the makeshift office of Larket's latest Sheriff's department. Several paper-strewn desks are packed into the windowless room along with a few hollow filing cabinets, waiting to be filled. Detailed maps of familiar Larket locales and wanted posters litter three of the walls. The fourth wall boasts several rows of rusty, secondhand shackles, obviously meant to temporarily house prisoners. With the current state of Larket's economy, very few luxuries are afforded the stalwart sheriff and his dauntless deputies. The only item of comfort is a steaming coffee pot sitting on a tiny stove on a table in the back of the office. Beside a sack of sugar and a bottle of nearly spoiled milk you see a fresh mug and wonder if the sheriff would mind if you helped yourself to some of his department's hard-earned coffee.


--Larket Sheriff's Office, Larket

Roldan comes stalking through, with Achaedas' limp, chained body slung over his shoulder.

Roldan carries Achaedas into the back room that had just recently held another suspect in the same crime. Here, he drops the feline into the chair, securing him there with yet more chains. He pauses to remove his helmet, and then hits Achaedas again, this time with a bucket of frigid water. "Wake up, scum," he says, his voice cold and hard.

Achaedas shouted out "Augh!" He'd already awakened a minute or so ago, just pretending to be still knocked out. Cats do not like water. Checking the chains binding him, the feline said, "You know I could just morph out of this, right? But I'll show you my good will, I guess, even after you knocked me out.."

Roldan considers the prisoner for a moment, then yells, "Jonn! Shut the door." The only exit to the room swings shut, and the sound of a key turning can be clearly heard. The only light comes from a torch on the wall, and from a small, iron-barred window, covered by thick, warped glass. "If you morph again," Roldan states, "I will kill you and have done with it. Now, how often do you come to Larket?"

Achaedas say to Roldan Depends

Roldan calmly takes a seat opposite Achaedas. "Let me explain to you how this works. I will ask you questions. You will answer truthfully, you will answer directly, and you will answer promptly. If you lie to me, if you evade my questions, or if you dare to give me the slightest hint of attitude, I will break your fingers. One by one, with a hammer." This is emphasized by the small, yet hefty hammer that the Sheriff pulls from his belt. "Let us continue. How often do you come to Larket?

Achaedas sounded slightly irritated. "Every now and then, the one week I come here daily, the other month I don't come here at all. It depends if I got business here."

Roldan nods. "Were you here three days ago?"

Achaedas gives a thoughtful look, "Usually my companion keeps that information for me, but I guess my memory can go to three days back. "I have not been inside the city itself though, but I've been in the forest. And the murder has likely been in the city, so release me, will you?"

Roldan allows himself a small smile. "How unfortunate," he says. "The murder was in the forest. How long have you known Beatrix Huxley?"

Achaedas gave himself some time to curse everything he knew a few times. Of course the murder'd been in the forest..."How long I've known who?"

Roldan say to achaedas The baker's daughter. Tell me, was it jealousy? Did she scorn you because you are a furry, effeminate freak? Or was it something more sinister?

Achaedas say to Roldan ....Scuse me?

Roldan say to achaedas You heard me. Answer. Why did you kill her?

Achaedas say to Roldan I'm afraid I don't even know her.

Roldan say to achaedas So, then. We will get back to this. What's your reason for being in the forest that night?

Achaedas say to Roldan Business.

Roldan 's hand shoots out, lightning-fast, to latch onto Achaedas' wrist, chained as it is to the chair. "This is your final warning," he says in a flat voice, hefting the hammer. "What were you doing in the forest?"

Achaedas say to Roldan Would you rather have me lie about what I did in the forest back then? That can be arranged too. I speak nothing but the truth, I have been there for business.

Roldan say to achaedus What was the nature of your business. Be explicit.

Achaedas say to Roldan Gathering reagents for my companion's incantations.

Roldan say to achaedas Let me tell you something. Evidence has been revealed that incriminates you. Your sentence will be death, unless you confess. Then, we might go a little more lenient on you. Your best choice is to simply confess.

Achaedas say to Roldan If that is true, then I have the right to know what this evidence is.

Roldan laughs aloud, although the sound contains less humor than the hammer in his hand. "Did you become a citizen of Larket while I wasn't looking? No? I did not think so. So listen to me; you have no rights. None whatsoever. If I say that you are the killer, you die. If the queen, the king, or even the damn parson say the same, you die. So you will get no information but what I choose to share with you. So confess your guilt, and spare your life."

Achaedas action : let out a very deep sigh. He would have covered his face with his palm if he had his hand free, but unfortunately he was kind of..chained up. "Right. Well, I'll be very honest. I. Did. Not. Kill. Her. Presuming it's a 'her', of course. Still I'll ask you to tell me, what evidence is there against me? I...just might confess if it does sound convincing enough."

Roldan rises. "I will give you one night to think on this. You were seen. It was all seen. I am giving you your life; do not throw it away. I will be back tomorrow." Roldan leaves, taking his hammer and chair with him. The door opens to let him through, giving the prisoner a glimpse of three armed deputies before it swings closed again, locking in place. Achaedas is alone.

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