A trying question - RPLOG

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Participants

Date

29/5/477

Log



The guard room is quiet and still as you are led into it, the guards having decided that the qualifications shown to them was worthy enough for you to speak with those requested, or they just didn't seem to care... Either way, a moment of waiting is all that's had before a Ram is dragged into the room, thick metal locks in place around his wrists, and a cloth gag over his mouth as he's sat down and the cloth removed at the least for him to cough some.

Fenris walks into the guard room wearing the greatcoat of a sub-captain of the city guard and a face that is not his own. He appears to be a rather stout fox today, well established at the heavier side of middle age with rust red fur and a distinguished collection of grey hairs on his muzzle. The robust red fox takes a seat in one of the simple chairs that have been provided.

He frowns at the treatment that the Ram guard has received. "Why was this man gagged?" he barks in the voice of an aristocratic drill sergeant, "This being is a member of the guard, whatever his crime!" The robust fox looks to Gregor, "Are you alright, son?" he asks, a little more gently.

"Because we gag all whom are capable of using math, lest he cut his bondings and cause a jail break for us all to deal with -sir-... It's only policy, and we've no record of this Ram belonging to the guard, he's merely a freesword." A annoyed looking Heron mentions, before they move to close the door and leave Fenris and Gregor in the room alone... A thick dull thud signalling the metal door barred for them both.

"... I don't know you, why am I being dragged out for you? Is this another attempt to garner a confession before my supposed trial?" The Ram looking up to Fenris with a harden gazed, making no attempt to move to ensure he'd be more comfortable as he speaks.

"Your friend Amos called on me to come in here and check on you and to hear your story," Fenris says in his 'aristocratic veteran's' voice, flashing his Lightbringers badge to the ram. "I don't want any confession," he says, "Only the truth." "You may call me Belamy," he says, "And I already know who you are, Gregor. Tell me what happened."

The Ram eyes the badge warily, glancing between it and the ram himself as he frowns and shifts some in his spot. "I've spoken the truth since I was placed in here... But fine then, what truth do you want to know? How the entire plan went to hell I assume? You'll need to tell me where to start for it."

'Belamy' nods and stows his badge away. "After the first demonstration, you spoke with Dennris Good?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, "Start from there." Fenris knows that he would get easier and more honest answers from the Ram as himself or in the guise of Amos, but with the other interview he plans to conduct, it is probably best to be as unrecognizable as possible. He runs a thick finger through his grey whiskers. Besides, he felt very distinguished wearing this face. It was sort of fun!

"I did yes. He said he wouldn't trust an apostate to run such a thing without turning the shanties into one giant gang that'd make it an even greater hell hole... So if they were so persistant about working through it, he'd support me." The Ram huffing some as he rests his hands on the table with a dull clunk. "... I should have been more realitic then, and I know it is my fault that I fell for this... He backed me up when I applied pressure to the quarry and other job sights to hire more 'reformed' apostates, and after the success in the quarry he even entertained me in his home to talk about petitioning the king to allow a single retest for the exams if they met certain criteria. Two days before I was to bring them outside of the gates, he told me I was approved and showed me a permit that he said he'd hold onto if anyone had any questions. With how he had been helping, I was nervous to ask for it for fear he'd feel insulted and pull his support."

The Ram grits his teeth as he leans forward and looks at 'Belamy' "The demonstraition was slaited to be peaceful! All we were going to do was line the road, and remind merchants of those whom were not as fortunate! I have no clue who organized a counter protest, or even thought they'd benefit from attacking us... As well, my guards were trained and ordered not to use lethal force, I had nothing to do with them drawing blades!"

Belamy makes a placating gesture with his hands. "I believe you," the stout fox says, "There were more forces involved than you know at that rally and I know that none of this was your fault." He leans forward intently. "Did you read the permit?" he asks, "Or see where Dennris put it after showing it to you?" If that document really existed, even if it was a fake, it could help to get poor Gregor out of here!

"And then," he barks gruffly, "Tell me what you know about this Ena, character. I think that she had a lot to do with the counter demonstration."

"No, I saw it and read it over but... Forms are beyond me for the most part of understanding. It had his signature though, and a few others from the council so I was not going to question it. As far as where he put it? A locked box I noticed he keeps under his desk for 'safety'... If it hasn't been destroyed, then it's hiding away there or somewhere else."

The Ram closes his eyes and sighs gently as he leans back, shaking his head before speaking. "Not much. She's a con artists, whom serves to work for cheap in breaking couples up, or framing individuals for crimes... I have a friend or two whom she put in here, one for a false murder attempt and the others for cries of rape at night. I don't like thinking the world needs to kill her but... She's not crazy, and she's not stupid. That she's survived this long atests to that."

The Ram's gaze turns to Belmay's eyes slowly as he narrows his gaze and speaks slowly. "Forces involved? Of course there were forces involved though... Forces have been involved since the creators gifted us the planet ages ago. After all, I was preaching for a lower class to advance... If you're born with more rights than them, why would you want them to get closer to your level?"

The greying fox raises an eyebrow and the accusing undertone in Gregor's tone before laughing warmly. "You mistake me for a Solacious, young man! Which I suppose I am on my grandmother's side," he says, "but where I am, I've gotten to by sheer luck and living long enough to get a level head on my shoulders!" He pats a burgeoning gut and gives the ram a toothy grin. "I wish any and all the same chance," he says in an aristocratic baritone. He sobers again. "I'm talking about spirits and callers, boy," he says darkly, "Which are none of your doing. It wasn't your fault, young man and I intend to see you out of this mess."

The older fox scrutinizes the ram in silence for a moment. "Anything else you can tell me to help me, boy?" he asks gruffly, "Anything I can do to help you?"

"I am not saying you're one of them... How many nobles do we have that truly serve the people anymore? How much longer can we pray the children of King Good will follow in his footsteps, and not abuse what power they -inherit- for no other reason than their birth?" The Ram's tone a bit dark as he scoffs some, indeed appearing to have become begrudged at the nobility from all his efforts. "Spirits and Callers? Of course they have a hand in it, everyone has a damned hand in it... But I will say this, I do not believe Dennris needed any push to do what he did. He must have had it planned from the start..." The Ram shaking his head slightly before clearing his throat. "I cannot give any more information of good note... The guards I was using were bandits I was reforming, survivors of a fight up in the pass that I took in and was teaching trade skills to, and having them put what training they had in fighting to somewhat good use."