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Back a step
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Back a step
| Fintan_de_Marin
Posts: 1,511 Status: Duke Karma: +250 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: A Step too Far | |||||
 Fintan was seated with members of the Ocrier Clan. One of the many peoples of Westland who became personal allies of the Arelian count. They were laughing in one of the taverns of Helios over pints of ale. No one noticed the door open and a young man walk in. The young man was in ragged clothing, though the clothing itself was not at all old enough to be ragged. He looked as if he was of a decent class, most likely high middle. The clothes should have been in very good condition. What ever caused him to get them tattered and muddy was known only to him it would seem. "Will no one do something about these tyrannical nobles?!" He shouted. "Are all of you such cowards that you keep your blades hidden during times of injustice? Yet a sixteen year old boy will draw his own blade in defiance?" "We aren't cowards, but we aren't that stupid either!" Shouted a patron of the tavern. Fintan stayed silent beside his drinking companions, and took a puff off of a pipe he was offered. "You clearly have no testicular fortitude!" The boy yelled, making Fintan and a few of his companions snicker. "You're all holing up here drinking and smoking while taxes are being raised, people are being abused. Hell! Even the Arelians here are hiding away, I thought they were the bravest of the nations?" There were several Arelian merchents in the tavern that day, and all of them, including the Count, had drawn their pistols and aimed them at the boy's head. "Watch your tongue lad." Growled a weapon's merchant. "We ain't gonna involve ourselves in Westland affairs." "Why? Are you the cowards you claim the Rogrican's to be?" "BE SILENT ALL OF YOU!" Fintan shouted. "Lad, I understand you're anger. You've clearly stood up to them and been thrashed smartly for it. You clearly do have either more courage than us, or less intelligence. But you are talking about rebelling against an clan system. His Majesty has tried to control them, and I have spoken to him on several occasions, but his hands are tied." Fintan uncocked his pistol and lowered it. Most of the Arelian's followed, but not all. "Then speak to him again! The people are tired of this!" The young man yelled. Five guards, bearing a golden pair or horns on their tunics walked in. They were personal guards for the lord of the Xonian clan's land. "Boy, what did we tell you about trying to incite riots?" The taller of the group asked, gripping his spear tightly. "Mind yourself, guard." Fintan warned him, a hand gripping his pistol tighter and his rapier. "Shut up, Arelian. You have no place here." Fintan made a start, but instantly had a pair of spears at his throat. Fintan stepped back just slightly. The tall guard stepped closer to the boy, who shook in fear knowing what was coming. He was grabbed by the throat and dragged in to the back room, esscorted by another of the guards. Fintan glared at them. The rest of the Arelians in the pub, about ten in all, looked to Fintan. He was a member of their Queen's Court, anything he said to do, they would diligently obey no matter the consequences. "Stand fast..." He hissed to the art trader closest to him, who was gripping his rapier tightly. The guards slammed the door shut firmly, and instantly clattering sounds could be heard. The boy was most defiantly making a struggle. Within seconds the boy was screaming. The weapons merchant went for his pistol again, stopping only when Rogue held up his hand to say stop. The barmaid ran towards the door upon hearing the scream. "RESTRAIN HER!" Fintan yelled, two of his drinking companions grabbed her across the chest with a bar hold, keeping her from going further. She was screaming and sobbing about them harming her son. Seconds later, it was quiet again. The guards walked out, without the young man. Their hands were both covered in blood. On Fintan's waving, the mother was released, but followed. She let out a shrieking scream upon entering the room. The guards threw something at Fintan's feet. It was red and muscle like. "That ought to shut him up." They snickered as Fintan picked it up. "YOU MONSTERS!" The woman yelled, running out with a knife held ready to strike. The guard closest to her took the pistol from the art merchant and fired it at the woman. If Fintan had not been quicker, and stepped in front of her she would have been dead instantly. As it was, Fintan was knocked off balance, his breath knocked out of him and in general put in a daze. His breast plate worked as it should have for a direct shot, keeping him alive but kicking his backside in the process. The guard hmmfed and continued on his way out with his compatriots. "Check...on...the...boy..." Fintan heaved to the weapon's merchant. The merchant was waiting to see if Rogue was alright. Apparently, he was just well enough. Fintan struggled to his feet. He knew he needed to quit doing that, one of these days the shot was not going to hit his chest and he would not live to tell the tale. Possibly one day he may never live again to tell the tale. But for now, he could get away with it, and he would exploit that fact. "He's fine...almost." The merchant called. "I'm taking him to an apothecary." "What happened to him?" The Orcier Clan lord asked. "They took out his tongue." Fintan heaved. "I will be speaking to Atmos about this myself...He will have to see reason. This has gone too far." |
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