Shades of Justice - RPLOG
Participants
Date
25/3/476
Log
The castle guards are out in force today; someone must have been anticipating trouble. Arrivals are quietly ushered to the nearest available seating under their scrutinizing gazes. Those who are coming in armed are certainly noted. The Judge, an elegant white swan starkly contrasted by her black robes, is already seated front and centre, watching too the flow of arrivals.
Mazurek is one of those arriving, this time without his entourage of guards. Instead only the PitBull Teen is escorting him. Like the other day he is only in his shorts, and he takes the seat as close to front as allowed. The patches over his eyes are moist, a product of the water magics he employs.
Saibh makes her way in, wearing her usual getup and largely keeping to herself. She is scanning the crowd, but seeing no one of interest aside from the judge, just quickly takes her seat
Kurzon is practically obligated to attend such events, lending the blessings of the creators to such things and in turn witnessing justice being metted out by the people. It's quite educational and at times can be quite rivetting. Of course the scent and eventual sight of his medical charge has him rising from his initial seat with a few appologies and a bit of effort avoiding treading upon smaller folk before he is able to begin making his way over to sit framing Mazurek with Donny, greeting both simply as he sits. Once in place he takes a deep cleansing breath, habit and duty maing him detoxify the region for the health of the healing scaley.
In short order there remains only standing room. Rumour has already spread about the nature of this trial, and the good folk of Firmament have come out in droves to witness it. The doors are, at last, closed, cutting off a significant source of light to the chamber and plunging much of the public seating into a heavy shade. Murmurings proceed unabated until the swan claps her gavel, then swiftly fall to just a few persistent whispers, and finally silence. "Court is now in session." The judge's voice carries clear and even through the entire hall, "Bring forth the defendant." When the side door opens and the figure, who remains silhouetted in black even as he passes directly under the rays of sunlight streaming in through one of the large windows, is guided by a soldier to stand before the judge's podium, the murmuring resumes, louder than before.
Mazurek senses the presence of the large bear while he is approaching, and he instinctively shifts to make some room for his 'doctor'. After Kurzon has seated and made sure to detox the immediate area, the bear finds the dragon leaning against him with his head on a shoulder. He speaks softly amidst the buzzing of voices, "Good to see you, you big teddy bear."
Saibh crosses her arms, leans back in her chair and puts her boot against the chair in front of her as she watches the proceedings, still scanning the crowd from time to time, maybe looking for trouble, familiar faces or just someone interesting to watch while the dog and pony show gets started.
Kurzon is very fortunate that his flesh under his fur is a deep chocolate brown in the manner of the creator's likeness that he shares or else the burning blush flowing into his ears would be obvious to the world. As it is, his robes are all that keep his body from radiating the heat through his armor.
"It is a pleasure to see you in good health as well, Mazurek as is it with your son, Donny. Though you can't see it, the one being tried today is not so fortunate...the shadow hangs heavy upon his shoulders."
A few persistant strikes of the gavel bring the courtroom to relative silence, though in some corners of the room hushed conversation continues. "State your name for the record." The shadow hesitates in his response, "I'm Zakiya." Only the pendant around his neck defies the darnkess that consumes the rest of his form, his outline suggesting only a canine heritage. "Zakiya of the Shadow, you stand accused of theft, how do you plead?" The defendant is suddenly aggressive in stance and tone, "I only did what I had to, if he would've sold me the--" By then the crowd is raising quite a racket, drowning out the remainer of the outburst. It takes several moments and repeated demands for order before the swan is able to address the Shadow again. "You will limit your response to 'Guilty' or 'Not Guilty,' please." "Not guilty!" Pre-emptively, the judge strikes her gavel and fires a glare around the bleachers before responding, "Bring forth the plantiff."
The warmth of the bear's body is more than enough for the exhausted Iguana to fall right to sleep without another word or sound. Once his head rests on Kurzon's shoulder, he's out like a light and will need to be carried home after the trial.
Saibh keeps her seat while the crowd begins yelling. Resisting the urge to yank the people immediately around her down, she instead leans forward peers through the gaps in the crowd until things settle down. She's watching both the shadow and the judge now.
Kurzon is quite shocked himself at this point, the last shadow he met was a mindless monster and this one spoke as a normal being, worse yet, this one claimed victimization! How does one come to terms with such a thing? How does it take place?
Fulror approaches the source of audible outrage, pushing into the court and closing the doors. He's not entirely sure of the proceedings of sweetwater, this sounds interesting, although hopefully a late arrival in the midst of one of them is not frowned upon. He makes his way calmly through the crowd, returning any angry looks he gets with a scowl, which fades away when he moves to sit next to a familiar face, Saibh, excusing himself to anyone he might displace. He murmers something to them when he's able to reach them, and looks around at all present.
Again the side door opens, and this time emerges the stout figure of a tortoise, easily recognizable to anyone who frequents the marketplace as one of the numerous vendors who operates there. Zakiya inclines his head towards the arrival, which is the only sign that he's looking that way for lack of visible eyes. The guard escorts the defendant aside, allowing the plantiff to approach the podium. "State your name and occupation for the record." "Marcel DuPont, Adaptable Clan, proprieter of DuPont Produce." he barely lets the swan finish before answering, though his words are a bit sluggish. "Mister DuPont, please recount the incident for the court." "Certainly." Again the turtle speaks up the instant the swan finishes, prompting her to arch a feathered brow. "I was tending my stall on a typically busy afternoon when I was approached by that 'gentleman,'" He pauses to gesture at the shadow, "He was, to be frank, your honor, rude. I decided his crown wasn't worth the attitude, so I told him in the politest terms I could muster at the time to take his business elsewhere. Well, instead of that, he seizes up a big armful of my goods--" "That's NOT true!" blurts out Zakiya, and once again the crowd uses the outburst as an opportunity to get rowdy as well.
Saibh leans over and murmurs quietly, "The shadow supposedly stole, the crowd's on edge and the merchant's probably not the nicest sort to the new sort about. Five to one says the merchant's lying through his teeth though" she then leans back and watches the proceedings, wondering if maybe it wasn't such a good idea to publicize this particular trial.
Kurzon ponders wether or not he should /do/ something...he could rise and implore his fellow good people to be at ease and allow the trial to procede that justice may be served, but could one tainted truly receive such a right? All the same he gently shifts Maz's sleeping form and turns to face the audience, his gentle voice raised to a imploring call.
"Good people of Firmament, please be calm! If we do not see this trial through we will know no truth or justice and such things will be barred from our eyes...let us watch and listen and know that the creators intended for us to set such things right."
Fulror nods to Saibh, looking to the turtle who he's had the chance to hear speak, and nodding in agreement. The shadow though seems a bit impatient, he may be wronged but he's not helping himself look any better to the crowd.... who should shut up. He grits his teeth as the bear speaks, it's really up to the crowd to calm itself down? What manner of proceeding is this?
By now the judge's patience is wearing thin, and she claps that gavel so hard it's a wonder the hammer doesn't fly clean off the handle and brain some unsuspecting bystander. Whether it's the thunderous sound resulting from that knock or Kurzon's empassioned plea, the room settles swiftly. "Zakiya of the Shadow, you will be provided an opportunity to present your defense. Until then you are to remain -silent-." She takes a moment to level her gaze at the room at large, almost silently daring someone to speak out of turn so she can have them removed. When it's clear things have again settled, if only for the time being, she draws a breath and turns her gaze to the tortise. "Please continue, Mister DuPont." This time, at least, he doesn't clip the end of her statement, as he's still occupied smoothing the wrinkles out of his clothing. "Thank you. I was saying... I told the boy to take his business elsewhere, and instead he tries to take all he can get his hands on and runs for it. I called for the guards and, nothing but the finest, the Sweetwater Army, they had him on the ground before he'd barely taken five paces." "Is that all, Mister DuPont?" "It is, Your Honor." "You may step down. Defendant, please step forward."
Saibh rubs her hands together, then leans over and whispers something to Fulror. She watches the two sides of the proceedings occasionally, but she's still scanning the crowd. Something in the back of her head just has a bad feeling about it and she's not entirely sure if it's cynicism or something else.
Kurzon personally settles in to take in the the rest of the trial once things are calm, pausing only to check on the iguana here and there he listens most intently, though he has to wonder why anyone would try to steal in such a sloppy fashion...it didn't seem....sensible?
Fulror watches the shopkeeper then turns his attention to the shadow, who to him, is of great interest. This is his first time seeing a sociable one. He chuckles a bit, lowly as possible and with-holds his remarks on the occasion that he might just be thrown out of court. looking to Saibh briefly and deciding it can wait a second.
"It wasn't like that at all, I--" The shadow is already trying to explain, as soon as he's summoned, and the swan interrupts. "Zakiya of the Shadow." He clamps his jaw, she waits an instant, then continues, "Please recount the incident for the court." There's a bit of snickering here and there, and by its tone, probably at the defendant's expense. It dies down quickly enough that it doesn't merit addressing, at least. "I was hungry, so I went to the market 'cuz I couldn't afford a meal at a tavern." Zakiya's tone is decidedly nervous now, he seems well aware of all the eyes upon him, suddenly. "So I stopped at that guy's stand." "Mister DuPont." "Yeah, him. He was giving me dirty looks the instant I walked up, and I'd already gotten hastled by some people on the street... an' my employer stiffed me on my pay, so yeah, I wasn't in the mood for it. All I said was "I wanna buy these," and I put up my money. He says 'your money's no good.'" Now the tortoise is shifting as if he'd like to speak up, but he has the good sense not to interject. Soft murmurs in the crowd suggest there's a decent portion of folk present who are rejecting the shadow's interpretation of events out of hand. Zakiya continues, "I ask him what that means, he says 'I don't deal with your kind.' I guess that was the last straw, so I took what I wanted -but I put down the money first-. I paid him! It -wasn't stealing-!"
Kurzon is ever the open mind and neutral party, much to the ire of at least one person present, but he does his best all the same. So when the shadow speaks, he is inclined to wonder about it. The words sound fairly plausible, much more sensible than someone as identifiable as akiya just grabbing food and running in an open market in the middle of the capitol city.
Fulror shakes his head. The shadow were only recently allowed to roam the street to his knowledge, a little after he came here so it's natural there are harsh feelings about it, but this whole situation is a terrible display of this nation. Segregation, bits of outcry in the court, such things are not to be expected.
Briefly, the swan looks up and about, anticipating more unruliness from the crowd, thought to their credit the bulk of the room keeps quiet. "Mister DuPont, do you contest that the defendant did indeed imburse you for the produce he took from your stand?" she finally addresses the tortise, who begins to sputter and stammer under the intensity of her gaze. "Well he didn't put the money down as he claims so much as throwww it at me." Marcel attempts to turn indignant, jutting out his chin and crossing his arms over his underbelly, "But the point remains that I'd told him I wasn't interested in doing business with him! I've got that right!" "And after the defendant was apprehended, did you attempt to return his money?" At this the plantiff straightens right up, shifting his shoulders and widening his eyes, defiant, "He sullied my wares when he snatched them up, why shouldn't I be compensated for that?"
Saibh looks to Fulror and murmurs, "Told you, should've made that bet" She then stretches her legs out a bit and waits to see the crowd's reaction this time. Once more, she leans over and says quietly, "Wonder if we shouldn't start making for the exits just in case."
Kurzon gasps in shock at the shop-owner's response. To think goodly folk could respond in such a greedy and dishonest manner. This was not in the spirit of honor or charity. Of course his reaction does have him seem sided with the shadow, so once more he finds himself the devil's advocate.
Fulror pats Saibh upon hearing the remark about exiting, whispering something to them as he shakes his head at the proceedings. "Deplorable.." he says lowly.
Notable, in fact, is the lack of outrage. Although there are a handful of voices that sound as though they support the merchant's position, the overwhelming response is silence. If the crowd's favour has begun to shift away from the tortise, it does so with less fervor than has been leveled against the Shadow throughout the proceedings. "How many Crowns did you provide Mister DuPont?" "Um, fif... I think it was -- it was fifteen." Zakiya darts a look over his shoulder into the audience as he answers, fidgiting. "And that was sufficient compensation for the goods taken?" Marcel looks ready to grandstand, but once again under the judge's gaze he faulters, "Well actually... um, yes, your honour, it was." For a time after the swan sits in brooding silence, contemplating the gentlemen before her, finally she lifts herself and proclaims, "Zakiya of the Shadow. Based on testimony I accept that your intention was not the act of theft." The Shadow exhales, audible in the relative quiet of the room. "However, Mister DuPont is correct in his assertion that it is the right of the business owners to decide whom they will and will not conduct trade with, and testimony from both he and yourself agree on this point: Mister DuPont refused sale to you. According to the letter of law, your actions constitute theft."
Saibh looks to the judge, then at the two involved in the trial and murmurs, "Except the idiot was keeping the money and likely didn't explain as much." She sits up straight and continues, "Not that worried, just thinking it would easier's all"
Kurzon frowns lightly, but cant argue that the shadow, hungry and bullied or not, did infringe on thee rights of the shop owner, but he is hopeful that the court will be mercifull and as such he begins praying for both sides of the case, asking for both wisdom and patience appropriately.
Fulror nods. "Let's get out of here. This is a corrupt joke. He wouldn't have refused services to a non shadow I presume." He grumbles and stands up, moving for the door.
Zakiya's darkened visage doesn't allow much to show in the way of expression, but the way he recoils as the explanation is laid out for the courtroom reveals that he's rapidly losing his cool. Marcel, in the meantime, is looking quite smug. "It is therefore the ruling of this court," the swan goes on, "that you are guilty of petty theft in the amount of 15 Crowns. As the plantiff has stated that he has already received sufficient compensation from the defendant, there will be no additional fees levied. You are sentenced to three days in confinement, less time served." While the audience is still wrapping their heads around that one, the fowl raps her gavel thrice. A pair of guards begin escorting the Shadow and bewildered shopkeep out the door through which they arrived. "Court will adjourn for twenty minutes to prepare for the next case." At this point she rises, and as the swan makes her escape into her chambers the guards at the public entrance throw open the doors.
Saibh looks to the judge, then stands up and brushes her pantlegs off. She looks to Fulror and murmurs, "See this is why I've always avoided the mess involve here" before heading for the door, mostly keeping an eye on the crowd, though maybe ab it worried that the shadow on trial might have an issue as well. What a joke" she may be forcing her way through the crowd more than she usually does
Kurzon ponders that one...three days confinement less time served? that could be a day if they held the shadow for any amount of time. Despite himself the bear claps his mighty mitts in approval of the justice served this day, vocally proclaiming this to be creator blessed logic and justice served in a court. Surely they will feed the shadow in confienement, so he has essentialy paid 15 crowns for a lesson in patience and long suffering in the face of adversity. Soon enough he is on his feet and moving to approach the guards and offer ing to lend his services as a priest and freesword should they need either in this case...he'd like a chance to speak to the shadow afterall.
Fulror shakes his head, looking back to the smug bastard with a glare. He whispers something to Saibh and storms out the door.
