RP:The One Where Lanlan Gets The Boot

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: Steward Lanlan of House D'l'sel D'issan is charged with the supposed assault of fellow Mage's Guild member, Auxilia Veneficus Kasyr Azakhaer. The High Council of Mages is convened and the drow is placed under trial. Legal chicanery ensues.

Mage Tower

Quintessa has managed to gather up a few of her supporters in the guild, mostly young apprentices and student mages not yet ready to move on to apprenticeship. They've all been gathered on the ground level where they wield picket signs featuring Lanlan with an 'X' through his face. Others call for a 'Lan Ban' and there is one sign bringing up the suspicious nature of his eyebrows. Quintessa (even though she was told to keep it quiet) has been spreading rumors of Lanlan's treachery throughout the guild, the stories getting wilder and wilder the further she spreads them. In the front she leads a chant with magically enhanced volume. "Two, four, six, eight- Lanlan tried to `sassinate." over and over again from atop a literal soapbox. The young stewardess has really whipped them into a frenzy, and onlookers are being slowly swayed to her side as apprentices hand out flyers defaming Lanlan as Gevurah's puppet, a picture of him as a marionette drawn on the front for better effect. From the sound of the crowd they are out for Lanlan's blood... or was that just Quintessa?

Lanlan arrives in Xalious a few moments ahead of schedule. And there was a crowd! Ah! Finally the recognition he deserved. His smile was broad and proud, but as his chariot drew nearer, he realized this wasn't a crowd. It was a mob. Unfortunately he was right about who they were gathered for. Him. And they wouldn't let him pass! They crowded around his chariot and lizard, preventing him from going any further. Then they surrounded him completely. His voice was drowned under a torrent of angry insults. Demands that he pay for his crimes. Lanlan had absolutely no idea which crime they could be talking about. "Crime? I haven't committed any crime! None! Let me pass!" A protester gets handsy, thrusting his arm into the back of Lanlan's chariot as if to grab his leg. Lanlan stomped his hand like a bug, and the crowd was incensed even further. To them, Lanlan assaulted them, just like they wanted, and now his body was forfeit. Unruly, manic townsfolk began to climb into the cart from all sides, even stomping over his lizard! His instinct was to activate his drow insignia and jump into the sky. The levitation spell activated and he began to hover, but what's this? A bald mustachioed man catches his shoe! Lanlan drags him up. Someone catches the man's leg, more people anchor that guy, and Lanlan's being reeled in like a marlin. "Let. Go." They didn't listen. So Lanlan blasted him in the face with a magic missile. a small ball of force like a shot put smacks into his jaw, sending him, the people under him, and a few teeth scattering on the ground. Here Lanlan stays floating, twirling two more magic missiles in his hands like they were baoding balls. He spots Quintessa from up here. "You did this! Why!?"

Odhranos kneads his forehead as he tries to concentrate on finishing the never ending stack of grading that continues to build on his desk. He is already high-strung by the upcoming audience with the Council, so it is no wonder that when he hears the raucous chanting outside his office window, the Provost finally snaps. Flinging the sash window upwards with a bang, Odhranos leans out to find out what sort of chaos is unfolding outside his office window. "Xalious above..." Odhranos curses as he hoists himself up onto the windowsill, just as the crowd explodes into frenzy. Odhranos dives from the window, his golden cage sprouting spidery legs to catch him before he hits the ground, and a spar of rock erupts from the ground to meet his feet. The terramancer breaks into sprint towards the crowd, more rock rising from the ground to pave his way, forming a chest high wall in his wake. Odhranos charges into the midst of the crowd, his stone wall seperating the chaos in half, and when he reaches the centre, the terramancer raises his foot high, then stomps. Amplified by his terramancy, the stomp rumbles outwards, knocking any who did not have the good sense to brace themselves to the ground. "Disperse! This is a matter for the Mage's Council! Continue to disturb the peace and you will be reprimanded!" Odhranos roars, infuriated. For good measure and added intimidation value, S'erok chose at this moment to uncoil himself into a colossal sand-serpent, looming over Odhranos' back with the cold stare of a basilisk for anyone who felt like kicking up a fuss.

Quintessa's voice raises over the commotion of the crowd, echoing Odhranos' order to stand down. "Away from the chariot!" she calls, leaping down from her box to rush to the injured man as the crowd pulls him to safety. They were hesitant to listen to Odhranos even with the threatening sand-serpent but as the ringleader, Quintessa, spoke up they listened. "Let no more blood be on Lanlan's hands!" the changeling addresses the group, standing in the empty space between them and Lanlan's ride. "He is a violent criminal who will use any excuse to shed blood. Behold! Lanlan's latest victim." Quintessa gestures to the bleeding man on the ground, citizens doing their best to stabilize him as he gurgles up blood. "This is indeen a Mage's Guild issue. We -are- the guild and we will not be silenced!" The apprentices and students in the crowd cheer at this. "We have waited long enough for justice! It is time for the guild leadership to deliver!" Quintessa turns and stand defiant, placing her hands on her hips to face the Provost as the crowd begins to chant again, this time repeating 'We will not be silenced!' The young spellcaster allows her aura to spread from her body outward like slithering snakes of shadow, prepared to deal with an attack from either of them. "I assume you can keep the accused from hurting anybody else during his stay, Porovost Kerrigan?" Quintessa's tone is much more personal when she speaks to Odhranos, her mismatched eyes flickering over to Lanlan for a moment to keep him in her sight. "If not I will be happy to arrest him- You hear that?" Quintessa devotes her full attention on the half-drow, "I'm doing this for Master Kasyr- the man you and Gevurah tried to kill. Betraying the guild- Betraying us!" The arcane steward gestures to the Terramancer. "You were our friend, Lanlan. How could you do this?" There is clear emotion in the teen's voice, but if it was real or just an act had yet to be seen. The crowd seems convinced, however.

Lanlan is surprised Odhranos decided to come to his rescue, their last interaction but a dubious wedge in what might've been called a friendship. Lanlan decides to descend near Odhranos, in the wedge he created between the crowd. The forceballs continue spinning inches over the palm of his hand, not threatening. Just ready. His descent causes a second outcry from the mob, and as they rush in, Odhranos calls upon S'erok to dissuade any from coming too close. Lanlan himself is wary of the serpent of sand, but trusting that it won't see him as immediately hostile. To his human at least. "Odhranos," Lanlan begins sternly, "What is this about." Lanlan expected Odhranos' authority to be enough, it should've dispersed the mob. And maybe it would have! Maybe the people would've been subdued and found something better to do! But Quintessa urged them on. With drama! "No! I'm not a criminal!" He yelled at the crowd. "I was attacked in my home! I defended myself! Just like I did here again from that gnarled oaf." If his words were heard, they were ignored. Lanlan could tell he couldn't get through to them like this. "Fools." He dropped the forceballs and headed to the tower's main doors. Before stepping through the door, he decided to address Quin. Actually he couldn't help himself. "No one will be arresting me, I come here of my own free will." Then he addresses the crowd again, "I'll apologize for my mistakes when I make them. But in this case, the truth is on my side. I have nothing to fear!" Then he pressed a kiss into his hand and dispersed it amongst the angry people, before bowing and turning toward the door.

Odhranos scans the crowd, before he finds Quintessa. The terramancer's face falls into one of disappointment and he waits until the spellsword meets his eyes before he continues, his voice loud enough to address the crowd, but his words pointed enough to address Quintessa personally. "Evidence of any harm knowingly brought about by a member of the Guild on another will be treated with the utmost of retribution." Odhranos stares down the crowd with a cold gaze. "May I remind you all that until decided otherwise, Steward Lanlan is still a member of this Guild. I have to attend one court trial today. Do not make me attend another." Once he has determined the crowd cowed enough that they won't cause further trouble, he turns to face Lanlan. The terramancer's expression is pinched with obvious discomfort as the drow descends. "Lanlan. I intend to see that we both find an answer to that question. Follow me." With that, Odhranos turns his back on the drow, and slowly collapses the stone wall into the earth again, so that he can walk towards the entrance of the Guild. When he passes Quintessa, he leans across and hisses quietly. "I hope you have gotten all your impassioned rabble rousing out of your system, Steward. It might impress the apprentices, but the Council does not take so kindly to such a thing. Don't make yourself a target." Odhranos refuses to meet her eyes, but merely scowls as he strides on into the Tower.

Quintessa tries her best to hide the smug expression painted across her face as the crowd boos Lanlan for calling them fools, the half-drow adding insult to injury for the broken man on the ground. A loud scoff is heard coming from the changeling before her lips part to harshly utter the words of her next accusation. "You've never apologized for anything in your life." She says, her left hand moving to grip the hilt of her katana as she follows behind him and Odhranos. To the terramancer Quintessa offers a cool glance, the defiance in her eyes relenting just a little for the man she considered an ally even if he wouldn't meet her gaze. "My whole life I've been a target," the young spellcaster says to him, speaking out of the side of her mouth as she advances into the tower next to him. "If angering the council is what I must do to see them finally take action, then I will gladly martyr myself for the cause. They must address the crimes committed against us, not only in Trist'oth, but in Larket as well. When will we see retribution for the murder of Stewardess Valrae? The current administration allowed a bunch of Vakmatharas apostates to burn one of our own as a witch and I'm beginning to think we need new leadership- leadership not afraid to take action against them." By now Quintessa's discontent with the Mage's Guild was quite clear. She made no secret of her opinions of them or of her ambitions to replace them someday, and she regularly attempted to sway her other peers to her side whenever she thought she had a chance. Quintessa's sentiments bordered on warmongering but the rumors surrounding her grudges varied. Was her pursuit noble? Was the stewardess doing all of this because she couldn't stand the injustices around her, or was it more personal? Gevurah's assassination attempt against the girl during the Red Skull Arena match was common knowledge- Was Quintessa just trying to usurp the guild to use against the Matron? Nobody knew for sure the changeling's true motivations, but if anyone were to ask her to her face she'd tell them she was on the side of justice.

Lanlan didn't consider Odhranos' words to be all that assuring, but he didn't need any reassurance. "Shut up and get inside, both of you. I don't intend to have this nuisance take up any more of my day." Once inside he made his way for the council chambers, their meeting room. He'd never attended a trial, but of course this was the only place they'd have one. He passes people, strangers mostly. Apprentices mostly, but others too, members of the guild who he's never bothered to learn the names. It didn't occur to him that he might never get the chance after today. But as he passed they seemed acutely interested in him. Or some did. Some seemed offended by his existence. By the time he made it to the chamber of his trial he was in a foul mood. "Where should I sit? Where does 'the accused' sit?" A battlemage-bailiff motions to a heavy stone chair. Lanlan sits down and leans back. Then he adjusts. Adjusts again. "This chair is a punishment in itself," he mutters. In front of him are the council. His judges. They nearly surround him in a semicircle, their gazes centered on him. Kyloriel, Brenwyn, Kaaname, Oriyan, and Foreza. There were a few open chairs among them, perhaps spots yet to be filled? And also other empty chairs. For witnesses Lanlan guessed. There was a stranger here. Or acquaintance, whatever, another apprentice Lanlan never bothered to learn the name of. She was here to record everything. Lanlan looked them all in the eyes defiantly, then shook his head. "I understand the need for protocol, but please get this farcical proceeding over with." He was going to have to wait for a few more idiots to arrive he thought. Kasyr obviously. Being that he was the 'victim'. Ironically, this was one of the main reasons he knew this judgment would pass in his favor. Instinctively he knew Kasyr would never admit to being all-but-killed by Lanlan. Especially since it was false. Boredly he glanced around the room. The columns seemed to stretch indefinitely toward the high vaulted ceiling. Especially above him. This room was definitely magical, he decided. Because how could something mundane make him feel so small?

Odhranos' eyebrows furrow as he follows Lanlan, walking in step with Quintessa. "All I'm asking is that you don't over expose yourself. Right now, the Council is facing backlash from the Trist-oth debacle, they're like a cornered animal. Anyone they perceive as a threat will be dealt with, likely quietly and permanently. No glorious martyrdom." Odhranos continues watching Lanlan's back, keeping his voice low and quiet so only Quintessa could pick out his words. "Try to sound them out, by all means, but don't over-extend. We're not ready for a confrontation. Yet." Odhranos turns his head and the corner of his mouth tweaks into a brief smile, though it was as much a grimace as a smirk. "You're the spellblade, you'd know the logic of a duel better than I would. We need to find an opening in our opponent's defence before we move in to kill, right?" With that, Odhranos finds himself presented by the tall double-doors that frame the entrance of the Mage's Council Chamber. Odhranos stares up at the smooth, lacquered wood panelling and sighs despairingly. Politics. When did he find himself back in snarls of this tangled web? Suddenly, the terramancer felt a deep yearning to just turn tail and flee back into the mountains, back to a life of hammocks and hermitage. Unfortunately, the time for running is long since past and with a weary sigh, the terramancer strides into the hall. While Lanlan seats himself and casts his eyes upwards towards the airy dome that presides over the circular chamber, Odhranos turns his attention to the floor. Around the circumference of the chamber, tiered seating provides ample room for the seething crowd that follows in Quintessa's footprints, as well as many more of the Guild's occupants, apprentices and academics alike. Where the seating ends, the floor descends, surrounded by shoulder height wall of wooden panelling before culminating in an expanse of smooth black limestone slabs, arranged in a concentric rings, converging on the raised stone seat that Lanlan's tushy is currently acclimatising to. Odhranos descends the steps to the slabs and moves to a small wooden stool at the side of the circle, but as he steps into the stone, a shiver runs up his spine. Glancing around furtively, the terramancer does not notice anything visibly amiss, but the feeling continues to pester him as he takes his seat. Only after a moment or two of feeling out with his terramantic ability does the mage curse quietly under his breath. "Sh*t. They have a warding of truth, carved under the flagstones!" Odhranos whispers through gritted teeth to Quintessa. "But it doesn't cover the complete circle. There are patches where it doesn't cover." Odhranos curses again, partly out of frustrated awe. With this, the prosecution could wrangle the truth out of their attendees, but also provide false statements by moving their witnesses onto the unwarded patches. "I'll try pinpoint the unwarded zones, if they ask for me, keep them busy for a minute."

Provost Kyl'oriel sits at the center of the Council's long stone table, flanked by Kaaname and Oriyan to his left and Foreza and Brenwyn to his right. He and Kaaname whisper to each other as spectators fill the gallery. Foreza and Brenwyn chat. Oriyan reads over the trial's case file, as short and thin on facts as it may be. Even as Lanlan, the subject of all this spectacle, enters the room the Council does not look up from their private conversations and readings. Only once Odhranos and Quintessa have taken their seats, and the doors to the gallery have closed, does Kyl'oriel bang a gavel on his desk. The loud bang exceeds the laws of audio-physics by magical means that reverberate physically in each person's chest to impress upon them the gravity of the trial in which they are about to witness or participate. "The trial of Lanlan D'l'sel D'Issan is now in session." "TRAITOR!!!" cries a naga apprentice from the gallery. "SILENCE!" Bang! Kyl'oriel pounds the gavel a second time. Once again the sound thumps in the gathered's chests, but this time a blue zap of energy flies toward the outspoken naga's throat, temporarily rendering them speechless (for the next hour at the very least). "The gallery will be reminded to keep order! All guild members accused of crimes big and small are entitled to a fair trial." Indeed, Kyl'oriel intends to see to it that this trial is fair. A lesser council member might be tempted to get an easy win over an unpopular drow mage, especially after that embarrassing debacle in Trist'oth. Kyl'oriel has spent several sleepless nights thinking about how a hypothetical weak-willed provost (not Kyl'oriel) desperate to restore faith in the beleaguered council might throw the book at an obnoxious, gossip-mongering, drow steward just to sate the rebellious thirst of the younger wing of the guild, but that man is not (not!) Kyl'oriel. In fact he was just saying to Provost Kaaname that they should not take into account the fact that Lanlan is the rumored lover of the very matron who embarrassed the guild. No, Kyl'oriel insisted to Provost Kaaname (who prior to this conversation had no idea Lanlan and Gevurah were lovers) that they must absolutely not (not!) let that salacious bedroom fact interfere with their ability to hold a fair trial. This is no kangaroo court! "Arcade Steward Lanlan, you stand accused of attempted murder of Kasyr Azakhaer, Auxilia Veneficus of the Mages Guild. Provost Odhranos Kerrigan will represent the Guild's prosecution. The Council that will sit in judgment today is comprised of myself, Kyl'oriel the Studied, Provost Esoterica. Provost Kaaname Tsuji. Administrator Brenwyn of House Aradithas. Guardian Foreza Ferinno. And Instructor Oriyan." Pause. "I understand you are providing your own defense. Is that correct, Lanlan?" He waits for the affirmative. "Very well. We will also hear testimony today from Arcane Steward Quintessa Dragana. Kasyr could not attend today to provide witness testimony in person, but he submitted written testimony, which I will read aloud when the time is appropriate. Provost Odhranos, if you would please begin with the opening statement."

Quintessa was all fire and thunder outside of the tower but now that she was in the presence of the mage council, Kaaname especially, she put on the face that she did while she was in Vailkrin. The young baroness had cut her teeth on politics in the city of the undead, adopting the mask of a cold, shrewd demagogue, one that had already contributed much in efforts to provide reparations for the damage caused by her predecessor. The false-vampire continued to build alliances and hatch schemes to gain power in the region while she was off studying necromancy, keeping herself busy abroad. Now that she had returned to Xalious, it was no different. Quintessa did her best to play every crowd, to morph into a version of herself that the current audience would approve of, to weave a web of deception that would simulate diplomacy in these matters. Odhranos was right; Now that the changeling was in front of the council she had to behave to get the results she wanted while still appealing to the mass hysteria had she sowed. With mismatched eyes lingering on Karasu's father for a moment longer than she had meant too, Quintessa takes her seat next to Provost Kerrigan and leans close to softly speak to him. "I'll feel out for holes in the spell but we might not be able to avoid the zone of truth," the stewardess was talented, but this room had been enchanted by the most powerful minds in all the Mage's Guild and she knew that they were usually thorough. This didn't worry the strange girl, however. This was all according to her plan. "You can lie while still telling the truth- I do it all the time. Doublespeak has served me well in the past and it will continue to today." Quintessa couldn't help but feel confident in the prosecution, though her digits still tapped nervously against the tin scroll case that housed 'Kasyr's' testimony inside. "But you shouldn't need to deceive them, Lanlan is guilty. They can use any divination sell they need to- I know what I saw and today everyone else will know too." Blue and hazel irises gaze ahead, glaring at the half-drow should he look her way while she holds up the scroll case to show that she is in possession of the Kensai's testimony. Quintessa had made quite a show appealing to the council to act on Kasyr's behalf, convincing them that the whole ordeal had driven him to alcoholism which anyone could see was true despite his drinking having been a bad habit -before- the whole debacle happened. That didn't matter to Quintessa thought. Anything would be utilized by the changeling to win if she felt it could be twisted to her advantage, including her master's drinking habit and his proclivities to wandering off without telling anybody about it, save for the occasional note left behind. It was these notes that Quintessa had used to forge a convincing testimonial, signing his name at the bottom of the parchment with obsessive detail. When the time came she would hand this scroll case to Provost Kyl'oriel to real aloud, hopefully putting a nail in Lanlan's coffin during this tribunal.

As the gallery filled in, Lanlan waited patiently. His feelings were all mixed. This was the first time he'd ever been on trial for anything. Given the number of things he could be accused of, this was overdue. He'd anticipated a trial before this. It was inevitable that he'd be linked to any of the various crimes he'd committed. But in those, where he was guilty, he was prepared. Contingencies were made. In this trial, where he was innocent, he was taken completely by surprise. Yet he had the truth on his side. There was history here, which he took part. There was nothing to worry about. He bent his neck around the side of his chair and pored over the mob. Not one of them appeared sympathetic. "You're all going to be incredibly disappointed," he mumbled to himself. He smiled at them, almost graciously. Then his eyes felll on Odhranos and Quintessa. They whisper to each other. Sharing secrets? Conspiring against -him-? Odhranos? This was surprising. He was a little embarrassed to be caught so flat-footed. Kyl'oriel bangs his gavel, commanding the attention of the entire room. "Finally," he mutters. As Kyl'oriel lists the opening details, the charge, the prosecutor, the defendants, Lanlan consciously looks back into Odhranos' eyes, and raises his eyebrows expectantly. They jiggle all the way to the tips. He nods in comprehension and turns back to Kyl'oriel. "Yes of course," he confirms. "No one else could." There was not a single iota of stress in his brow. This was a formality. By the end of this trial, Lanlan was confident he'd have their minds changed from banishment to promotion. "Excuse me what? Where's Kasyr? Haha, how can we hold this trial without Kasyr? The victim?" His heart sunk. "No, no. Kasyr must be here? A letter? Supplied by Quintessa? And written by too!" Understandably, he became a little worked up. He trusted instinctively that Kasyr would set this straight. Or that Lanlan could goad him to at least. No Kasyr? This might not go how he thought.

Odhranos opens his mouth to disagree with Quintessa's condemnation of Lanlan, but he is interrupted by Kyl'oriel's gavel. Odhranos straightens in his seat, a stern frown on his face while the Provost calls the court to order and presents the charges. However, when his own name is announced before the court, the terramancer briefly shrinks with shoock before the sudden collective gaze of the gathered masses, their expressions still incensed after staring holes in Lanlan's back. Odhranos stands to his feet and approaches the Council's stand, hissing in hushed tones "Provost Kyl'oriel, with all due respect, I was under the impression that I was called here to give testimony. Surely there is someone more qualif-" "Provost Kerrigan!" Odhranos flinches as Administrator Brenwyn sharply cuts him off. "You have been chosen to represent the prosecution. Do not make the Council reconsider that decision." Odhranos grits his teeth, but ultimately, he bows before the stony gaze of the Council. When he turns, he finds Lanlan staring at him. Odhranos meets the half-elf's eyes, and his shoulders droop briefly. It is blatant in the his eyes that Odhranos does not want to be a part of this, but he steels himself and straightens to his full height. "Members of the Council, Colleagues of the Mage's Guild. My name is Odhranos Kerrigan and it is my honour to represent the Mages Guild and to serve as prosecutor for this case." Odhranos' voice projects around the chamber, courtesy of the spectacular acoustics, and the terramancer folds his arms behind his back, squaring his shoulders and presenting a stone-cast face to the crowd. "On the twenty third day of Samhainne, the accused reportedly attacked Auxilia Veneficus Azakhaer, in the residence of Matron Gevurah D'Artes in Trist'oth. Steward Lanlan, can you confirm for the Council, where were you on the twenty third of Samhainne?" Odhranos paces slowly around the circumference of the "guilty pit" as the apprentices fondly dubbed it, seemingly playing every part of the iron-willed interrogator, when in fact, with every ponderous footstep, Odhranos was beating a rhythm into the flagstones with his heels, seeking out the carvings of the truth-warding with terramantic echolocation.

Kyl'oriel doesn't react to Odhranos's outburst, in large part because he had intentionally baited it. The Council had agreed (read: Kyl'oriel manipulated The Council into agreeing) to test Odhranos's loyalties. With all the talk of rebellion since the Trist'oth debacle, The Council was scared for purely political reasons, despite the fact that the Guild has long claimed that it is an academic institution with no tolerance for politics. Perhaps those who are talented at illusion have some talent for self delusion as well. The Council needed to close ranks and Odhranos is one of the few question marks within the leadership. He fraternizes with that rabble rouser Quintessa, and he has worked closely with Lanlan before. To whom is he loyal? Kyl'oriel listens as Odhranos lays out the facts. Guardian Foreza has an eye for suspicious behavior and he leans in towards Kyl'oriel to whisper about the peculiar way that Odhranos is moving. He can't prove it's anything sinister (the Mage's Guild has its fair share of ecentrics and lunatics), but it doesn't sit right with him. Kyl'oriel waits for Lanlan to answer, then interjects, "Provost Kerrigan, if you would stand still, please. Continue."

Lanlan said, "That's where I live, so yes. Obviously."

Odhranos said, "Apologies, Provost, it is a habit, one that I shall endeavour to suppress. Steward Lanlan, can you confirm for us, was Matron Gevurah present on the day of the event?"

Lanlan said, "Yes Odhranos," while rolling his eyes, "As were most of the other people who live there."

Odhranos said, "Can you outline for the council, the relationship between Matron Gevurah and Venificus Azakhaer prior to the event?"

Lanlan said, "You mean Kasyr? Fine. Much like his relationship to anyone else, I'm sure, he was our temporary ally during the brief time he could be counted on."

Lanlan said, "As in, he is too mercurial, too temperamental, too unpredictable to be reliable."

Odhranos said, "Please elaborate, for what exactly, was he being "counted on" for?"

Lanlan elaborates with a huff, "Gevurah and I are trying to stop Caluss, you may remember him? A god of undeath, revived recently and still wanting to turn all life into undead slaves" Lanlan waits for that to sink in. "Kasyr was supposed to help us with that. He provided us information on Gospel, a magic sentient weapon that might be able to be used against Caluss." Lanlan tries to remain neutral, but can't! It's too personal. "But when we met to discuss this, he threw a tantrum and attacked me! That's when I -defended- myself. From him."

Odhranos stands behind Lanlan's chair, a few places away so he can study the drow's posture and be within speaking distance, but he does not have to meet Lanlan's eyes, nor be seen in turn. "What was the reasoning behind this, "tantrum" as you put it?"

Lanlan was all to happy to oblige. "Because I called him Gnat! His nickname! Given to him by his recently deceased friend, sure, but how was I supposed to know that!?"

Odhranos sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "If you would, please describe the events of this meeting that led you to calling Venificus Azakhaer "Gnat""

Lanlan blanks for a moment. "For some reason, I went with Kasyr and Quintessa to meet his 'friend' Luffy. A dragon, who seemed to despise him. Luffy used to call Kasyr, 'Gnat'." Lanlan shrugs. "I thought it was funny."

Odhranos nods gravelly. "For reference councillors, the dragon in question, Luffy, perished during the explosion that killed the remaining Razurath in Venturil. She was an unfortunate casualty of the genocide." Odhranos pointedly uses the term genocide, but does not prod further. "Steward Lanlan, how exactly in this meeting with Matron Gevurah, did you come to feel it necessary to call Venificus Azakhaer by this name?"

Lanlan says sternly, "I told you. I thought it would be funny." "Kasyr and Gevurah were talking in the war room among the council, I think. I joined a few minutes after they began. And I said 'Hello, Gnat' or something. I don't know. Why?"

"Because context can be the difference between a provocation and a mere offhand comment." Odhranos retorted bluntly. "How did Venificus Azakhaer react to what you said? And please be as specific as you can."

Lanlan rolls his eyes again. "Okay, Pebbles, sure thing. If I remember correctly, Provost Pebbles, after I said...that thing I said. Gnat? After I said that, I don't think he said anything. Or he said very, very little. Then he attacked me. With electricity, and projectiles, and a sword, and...like I said, he threw a tantrum. Does that satisfy, Provost Pebbles?"

Odhranos pointedly ignores Lanlan's blatant attempt to rile him up, but the slight tensing of his shoulders and narrowing of his eyes belay his irritation. "No, Steward Lanlan, it does not satisfy. Did Venificus Azakhaer respond verbally, or did he not? I cannot expect you to remember the specifics of wording, but you should at least be able to remember if he said something at all before attacking you "

"Fine! He said nothing."

"How long after calling him by that name, did he respond physically?"

"Right after!"

"So you mean to suggest that Venificus Azakhaer, in the few moments it took for you to enter the room and call him "Gnat", immediately lost composure and attacked you, having not shown any signs of distress prior?"

audible murmuring and utterances of the word "drow" heard from gallery

Lanlan throws his hands up in the air and sighs with exasperation. "Yes! Exactly!" Lanlan cranes his neck behind the chair to the gallery to see if he can spot whoever's talking bad about him. "Have none of you met this man? How is this surprising."

Odhranos walks around so that he is now within Lanlan's sightline, and he tilts his head in a slight deference to the drow. "Thank you for your clarity then, Steward Lanlan." Odhranos eyes the drow with a cool gaze, but the slight furrow of his brow is a tell that he is bothered. Lanlan is fighting him every inch of the way, and only hindering his attempts to dig the truth out from this mess . He's only turning the council against himself. "Please describe the events immediately after Venificus Azakhaer's outburst. You mentioned there were others in the room, including the Matron?"

Lanlan sighs and relaxes a bit, confident he was believable. "Let's see, I dodged many of his attacks. He was so crazed and bloodthirsty it wasn't hard at all for -me- to mislead him. Though even if he was perfectly composed it would've been easy for me. But eventually, because I was being merciful and lenient (because we were friends at the time?) he landed a blow on me." Lanlan may be embellishing a smidge. "But he wasn't satisfied. Then he tried to electrocute me. He almost did! Almost, but I'm not that fragile. Gevurah attacked him too, because he attacked me. Then it's all fuzzy. But Quintessa showed up, even though she wasn't invited to this meeting?"

Lanlan waved his hands. "Like I said, after I almost got electrocuted, for being too nice, I can't remember much. I may have sustained a concussion." Actually, he almost died, and was barely conscious, but nobody needs to know that.

Odhranos briefly feels a sense of relief. Lanlan is going to be cooperative! This will work out okay! Then Odhranos is rudely reminded of who exactly it was sitting in that large stone chair. He sighs through his nose and folds his arms behind his back, clenching his fists with exasperation. "How did the altercation conclude?"

"I guess you could say I won."

"That's not what I'm asking. Please give specifics. Who withdrew first, when did they withdraw, what was their reasoning. Specifics."

"Well no one -withdrew-. None of us could fight anymore! That weirdo," he points to Quintessa, "Stole one of our wagons and took Kasyr away on it! Matron Gevurah's healers helped us get to the infirmary. That was the last time I saw Kasyr for weeks."

Odhranos resists the urge to facepalm, but the temptation is strong. "Then Quintessa and Kasyr withdrew, on account of their injuries." Odhranos shakes his head. "Very well then, we have Steward Lanlan's version of events quite explicitly outlined. I believe that is all I wish to ask for now, Councillors." Odhranos bows towards the council table, before returning to his seat, suddenly sinking against the wall as fatigue hits him, now that he has left the spotlight.

"Finally." Lanlan addresses the council. "Do you bloated seat warmers have anything to add?"

The council all begins to murmur to each other when Lanlan calls them out for being seat warmers, all except for Provost Tsuji and Administrator Brenwyn, who's annoyed gazes travel straight down their noses at him until Kaaname leans over to speak to Provost Kyl'oriel. "Nothing more can be gained from this one," he says in a hushed tone, one that wouldn't carry far from between them. "Let's see what Stewardess Dragana brought along today." The Stewardess in question was staring right at them, her mismatched eyes unblinking as the commotion slowly filled the courtroom. "Alright, order- ORDER!" Kyl'oriel bangs the gavel once to make his point clear and the room falls silent once more. "The defendant is dismissed. Stewardess Quintessa Dragana, will you please take the stand?"

Quintessa rises slowly, her long fingers still wrapped tightly around the sealed scroll case containing the testimony she had prepared for Kasyr. She was confident her plan would work, so much in fact that she breaks her professional act to throw a smirk at Lanlan as she passes him on the way to the stand. Quintessa resists the urge to prod at him further, however, and takes her seat in front of the room, her stoic mask returning as though it never left. "It is my understanding that you brought along Veneficus Azakhaer's testimony?" Administrator Brenwyn asks, which Quintessa lifts up to show them. "Please, Miss Dragana, read it aloud for the council. And Stewardess, don't try to improvise. I need not remind you that you are inside of a Zone of Truth spell." The changeling nods, understanding the warning. By now it was no secret Quintessa wanted to see Lanlan punished and while her presence here was necessary, the council wanted to prevent a scandal at all costs. "Yes, Administrator." Quintessa says, standing up and clearing her throat as she unscrews the scroll case. Without further delay the young spellcaster reads aloud in the best imitation of Kasyr's speech patterns that she can muster.

"I went to House D’Artes on the twenty third day of Samhainne, as I would any other time. I had been, of course, visiting in my capacity as Auxilia Veneficus. It was Gevurah and Daath who provided me this position, finding me... et an important assets during their war against the Razurath. After their divorce I continued to act as liaison between the Drow and the Guild, trying to smooth over the sour relationship that had sprung up in the guild. By now everyone knew about the rumor that the Drow were trying to usurp control of the Guild and I wanted to silence these rumors. For pragmatism, quoi-ce-soit. We were discussing other business pertaining to the alliance between Trist'oth and the Guild, but when the subject came to the rumor of the Drow trying to overstep its bounds with the guild, et Gevurah and Lanlan became agitated. I believe they thought me as a puppet since giving me the job and had never considered I would not help them in the plot. Gevurath became furious when I suggested that Trist'oth not treat the Mage's Guild as a vassal, calling me a traitor enfin. She then proceeded to press an attack, clawing my stomach and burning me with arcane fire, a fact that Arcane Stewardess Quintessa, the one who was in charge of my recovery, can collaborate. If Quintessa was not there to rescue me, I might not have made it out alive. It is my belief that Geverah and Lanlan saw me as a threat to their machinations in Xalious, and sought to do away with me quietly in their home to avoid suspicion. A bien tot, ~Kasyr Azakhaer"

Lanlan glares unblinking at Quintessa while she moves past him toward the stand. His hands clench into fists, his nostrils flare, and his breathing is deep and fast. If only she would do something to him, give him some excuse. She looks at him. He dares her with his eyes to break character. For a microsecond, she appears to grin at him. He instantly snaps out of his seat, almost as if to lunge at her. But he restrains himself, and looks to the council. "This little freak is playing with you! She's enjoying this!" He glances around the room, almost pleading, for someone to corroborate. His eyes settle on Odhranos, not on purpose, but who else is there? "Tell me you saw that!" Of course he didn't, or wouldn't admit to it. "No? Of course not that wouldn't suit your agenda." Suddenly a mystical force pulls him back into his stone chair hard. The unforgiving stone knocking against his frail body. His arms and hands are forcefully magnetized and snapped to the armrests. Over the course of a second, his mouth melts closed until there isn't even a seam. "You will not interrupt the steward," Brenwyn says calmly. Lanlan's eyes are wild with murderous intent. If only he could move. Actually it's good he can't. So Lanlan listens. He can't avoid it. Gradually, he relaxes. By the time she's done reading the letter, he fails to grin (no mouth).

Odhranos steeples his hands over the bridge of his nose and stares blindly into the stone floor ahead of him. As he lightly bounces his leg, tapping his foot on the ground, he watches the carved sigils of the Zone of Truth intently, watching as Quintessa's silvery footprints cross the flagstones. Lo and behold, when she stands to give Kasyr's testimony, the spellblade is standing squarely in the midst of the warding, where it has it's full effect. There can be no doubt that what Quintessa speaks is nothing but the truth, not embellished, not abridged. Odhranos' brows furrow in confusion, though he cannot bring himself to raise his eyes to meet Lanlan, who's gaze he can feel on him with the heavy weight of the betrayed. As Lanlan bursts into outrage and is subsequently restrained, Odhranos flinches and squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to find some angle that he could argue Lanlan's case without drawing the ire of the Council. There must be some hole in the chain of events, Lanlan's story and Kasyr's testimony simply disagree on a fundamental level. Suddenly, a flaw occurs to Odhranos and he is on the verge of erupting out of his seat to voice his objection, when his wide eyes turn to meet the Council and he meets Administrator Brenwyn's icy gaze. The terramancer wilts underneath that onslaught of frosty rage. Provost, though he may be, Odhranos does not hold a seat on the council. Nor, is he not granted the rank of Master. That frigid stare cuts through him and reminds him of his place, a mere researcher, who dances to the Council's tune, or not at all. Sinking deeper into his seat, Odhranos' eyes fall despondently to the floor. As his fists bunch the grey fabric of his robes with frustration, Odhranos listens to Lanlan's condemnation. And does nothing.

After wordlessly silencing Odhranos and magically restraining Lanlan, Brenwyn raises a hand, quelling any murmurs about what would happen next. "It is true, Kasyr's version of events has been corroborated by Steward Quintessa. Um, I have heard everything I need to, I have no questions for the witness." He glances to each of his peers. "At this time, do any of the other members of the council have anything to ask?" Each shakes their head in turn and one phrase is echoed: "No further questions." Brenwyn doesn't appear surprised. "Quintessa, you may take your seat there. Okay." Once she has, he resumes. "Very well! We will take a brief recess before we announce the verdict. If you desire a refreshment or wish to use the facilities, you may. Court adjourned." One by one, each rises out of their seat, and a previously invisible seam opens in the stone wall behind them. A large slab of stone swings on an invisible hinge, revealing a hidden back room. When it closes behind the last member, the door vanishes and once again is smooth. One person in the gallery takes their offer seriously and begins moving toward the exit, excusing himself to each person in his way. By the time he reaches the end of the long bench, the wall cracks again and council members retake their seat. "Court is in session, please take your seats." Over the course of a minute, the one novice finds his seat as he excuses himself several times. "Steward Lanlan. Please rise."

Ky'loriel, who cannot leave himself out of things, bids Lanlan, "Steward, do you have any final words before we pass our judgement? We will remove the enchantment silencing you. Please remain sober." Councilor Brenwyn side-eyes Ky'Loriel, and almost imperceptibly shakes his head and sighs.

"Thank you Ky'loriel," Lanlan begins cordially. "I do have words to share before you render judgement. Regrets!" He takes a deep breath and rises from his seat. "Have I made mistakes? Of course. I have made...mistakes. It's true that I soetimes let my emotions get the better of me!" He nods prudently and begins to pace. "Like any of you, even on the council, I have made mistakes. And my biggest mistake...was ever becoming affiliated with you human centipedes. You ignorant blowhards, you...you...you idiots!" Ky'Loriel bangs his gavel. He would have Lanlan silenced again! "No!" Lanlan sharply thrusts his hand out and a glass wand appears out of his sleeve and appears between to fingers. Whatever spell the old elf was going to cast is replaced by the heeing and hawing of a donkey. "I'm not finished! I've fought in the name of the Mage's guild. Risked my life!" Brenwyn sighs exasperatedly at Ky'Loriel and motions to Odhranos, meeting his eyes with an icy stare. He mouths the words 'take care of this'. Lanlan continues his rant, "The most danger any of you face is accidentally popping one of the blisters on your asses from sitting on it so hard! That any of you believe you have the authority to judge me is a symptom of your delirium." He turns away from them dismissively and focuses on Odhranos. He didn't miss the silent message from Brenwyn to Odhranos. "Don't worry, I'm done," he says with disgust. "This trial is beneath me. This -guild- is beneath me." He glances warily from the prosecutor to the witness, and back. "Court adjourned." Then he apparently explodes into a puff of dense gray smoke. By the time it clears or is dispelled, he's vanished without a trace.