Menelandro Stands Trial

[cRaZy8or5e]

Clouds gathered in the sky shadowing a crowd so immense it was unable to fit within any of the buildings of Daeron. Viewing stands had been erected in a horseshoe shape with a stand finishing the open end of the horseshoe. This platform held the Marshalls of Justice. The Marshalls of Justice consisted of the High Marshall, other lords of the North, elder clerics, and an ambassador from the circle. In front of the stand containing the council sat another small stand raised slightly from the ground so the crowd could view the elf standing upon it. To the left, of the Marshalls of Justice an arcade had been erected where the Northern Inquisition sat resplendent in their red robes and intimidating in their iron hard countenances. All of them had the permanent frown of an inquisitor, a frown pasted onto their face by years of devotion to the strictest of codes and beliefs in all aspects of the Law with even stricter penalties for any deviation real or perceived by the law.

“Please state your name for the court” the court bailiff Kermit of FoN said.

“Menelandro cleric of Tyr and Crusader of the Clericus Liberatus Anno Domini”

The Disciple of Tyr of the Fists of the North had been chosen by the inquisition to argue their case against Menelandro. This was no small feat and Menelandro did not envy his comrade in arms his task.

Disciple stepped forward and in a loud voice read from a parchment, shouting to the crowd so that they might hear, “Menelandro, you stand before the Marshalls of Justice to answer to several charges made against you by the inquisition. The charges are one count of fleeing in the face of the enemy, 3 counts of aiding and abetting enemies of The Way, and one count of High Treason against the north.” Each announcement hit Menelandro with sickening force, twisting his insides and making him feel physically ill. He knew it was going to be bad, but he didn’t know it was going to be that bad. He closed his eyes to hide his feelings, quickly reciting the litany of the justified and the prayer of the resolute in his head. These served to soothe the mixed feelings of rage, shame, and confusion. That an elf of Menelandro’s years and wisdom could be confused was probably the most disconcerting of the emotions that ravaged his psyche and twisted his inner peace and focus into a roiling boiling storm of conflicting emotions and internal arguments. That he, one of the vaunted Crusaders of CLAD, stood on the dais of the penitent wearing the charcoal colored robes of shame, facing down the Marshalls of Justice as if HE were an enemy of the Northern Coalition was even more perplexing and discomfiting. This was not a position he had ever thought to find himself in. He who had fought every monstrous threat or evil enemy that walked the multitude of planes and realms that comprised the greater realm known as Aetheria. That they might call his judgement into question was insulting on the surface and internally a cause for great concern and self critique.

Disciple stepped back after reading the charges and looked up to head of the court, the High Marshall of the Northern Coalition.

“The charges have been read, does the accused understand these charges?” The High Marshall stated leaning towards Menelandro.

“I do High Marshall.” Menelandro stated, facial expression hard and resolute.

“How do you plead?”

The dreaded words. Menelandro knew the evidence collected against him. He was guilty by the letter of the law. However, he knew in his heart that he had done right by his faith and the oaths he had sworn for the Northern Coalition and to the Crusaders of CLAD. However, doing right by the rigid guidelines of their faith and the strictures of being a member of the Northern Coalition meant nothing to that indomitable and mindless pursuit of perfect justice of the Inquisition. Members of the Inquisition rarely lived long, so intent on being perfect and so strict were the penalties for failing at perfection. The inquisition was as busy culling its own ranks as it was ensuring the spread of their rigid strictures of faith and ethics. Early in his training Menelandro had wanted to become apart of the inquisition. However, their rigidity and self destructive tendencies warred against his own perception of the world and what he felt was the best approach towards spreading the light of justice and balance to it. He felt that strict and brutal implementation of law while effective created more resistance not less. A gentle touch with implementation of the law was more effective, helping those outside the law to understand the benefits that law could provide. Simple concepts like stability and predictability in day to day life were some of the greatest and most powerful means of pulling a populace toward the rule of law. However, his own viewpoints may matter little now since the inquisition was on the verge of banning him forever from the north. They couldn’t kill him, since there were no means of permanently banishing people from using the rifts to maintain immortality. However, exile from the North would be nearly as bad for someone like Menelandro, a person who lived and breathed Northern Coalition values, an elf who was devoted to his brothers and sisters in CLAD and the Fists.

Menelandro stared at the High Marshall, “I plead Not Guilty.” He could have put himself at the mercy of the court, which is what many had wanted him to do. The court could have protected him from the worst of the wrath of the inquisition. The High Marshall himself had come to Menelandro before the trial and told him how he could shorten the term of exile if only he plead guilty and allowed the High Marshall to take matters into his hands and away from the inquisition. Menelandro did not even have to give voice to his response, he looked up at the High Marshall who responded, ‘I understand, I would be unable to take that path as well. May Tyr judge you justly Menelandro, may Torm protect you, and may the Pantheon of the North aid you in all your endeavors.’ With that he had left.

There was a pause after his statement as if the crowd and the inquisition were taking a deep breath, only to let it out in a storm of cries of outrage. Menelandro stood undaunted, each cry of ‘traitor’ seeming to only to make him grow in stature and strengthen his resolution.

The High Marshall banged his gavel, Kermit and Morik of the Fists acting as bailiffs moved among the crowd shouting for order. Calm and order quickly descended on the crowd. A bard from the soldiery began shouting epithets at Menelandro only to be laid low by a butt-stroke by the scythe Morik was carrying to mark his office as a bailiff. Clerics quickly descended to make sure of the health of the bard, and to carry him away from the hearing where he wouldn’t be a disruption any longer.

The High Marshall eyed each element at the hearing in turn, from the Inquisition arcade to the crowd, willing them with his gaze to silence. “We are the Northern Coalition. We are a populace of law and order. Any who can not conduct themselves in such a manner at these proceedings will be dealt with.” The ‘harshly’ did not have to be added to the end of his statement, his demeanor promised harsh retribution for any who stepped outside the rules of decorum that governed a court such as this.

“Proceed with the case of the Inquisition against Menelandro, you may question the accused Disciple of Tyr.” The High Marshall waved to the Fist.

Disciple stepped forward, all evidence of his friendship with Menelandro gone from his face, immersed in his roll of the accusor. The Accusor one of the most hallowed positions in the court of law, the one who bestowed the light of justice. Some even argued that the Accusor was the very hand of Tyr. In any case, it was a great honor that had been bestowed upon Disciple of Tyr and one that Menelandro did not begrudge his comrade in arms.

“Menelandro, would you please tell the court of the events that transpired on the day in question? Please restrain yourself to those events that lead you to aid our allies in Melencia.”

“I was here in Daeron in the CLAD chapel undergoing the fasts of the arbiter, when I received word that Melencia was threatened by a Shadow Legion incursion aided by a Slave druid. I took the faerie way through the Crevasse to Melencia so that I might aid our Forest allies against a determined assault by a large force of Shadow Legion members. There was only myself, Sara and Netyanis to defend against this force. More joined in the defense but I’m unaware of who they might have been so fast and furious was the fighting and so strong was the foe who assailed us. The Shadow legionaires made off with their relic, and The Circle relic before we were finally able to evict them from the Wolf’s Den in Melencia. They were far stronger than we had anticipated. We immediately went to regain the Circle relic and the druid Sara was able to recapture the Circle relic. I spent most of my time slain on the floor of that foul edifice of evil the Temple of Lolth. Meanwhile as the events transpired a call for help was being sent from LA. We initially ignored the call for aid—“

“Stop there please” Disciple interrupted. Menelandro abruptly ended his testimony.

“Is it not true that although the Shadow Legion still held their own relic, you turned from regaining it forthwith. Is it not true that you fled in the face of their taunts, allowing them to maintain possession and inflict evil upon us all and give their foul arcanists more access to the relic?”

“You speak in half truths. Our allies in the Circle were well aware that the Shadow Legion still retained their relic but all of us were growing concerned with the events in Neversummer—“

“We’ll come to that, please restrain yourself to answering only those questions asked of you, and nothing more.” Disciple admonished. Menelandro stood unruffled, used to having participated in such proceedings before, although never in the position of the accused.

Disciple paused and turned to the crowd, “I repeat my question, is it not true that you fled in the face of their taunts and give their foul arcanists more access to the relic?”

“No.” Menelandro stated rage glittering in his eyes.

“No? So you stayed and fought, regaining the relic?” Disciple was at his most condescending and Menelandro was not so sure he was happy that his friend had been honored with the position of accuser.

“No.”

“Did you or did you not leave the relic in the Shadow Legion in the face of the their legionnaires?”

“I did leave their relic there. Yes.”

Disciple turned to the High Marshalls, “The court will bear witness to the false testimony of menelandro, saying that he both did not and did flee in the face of the enemy.”

The High Marshall replied, “duly noted, the court wishes that the accused clarify his statements, the court believes that his response could use some clarification. Menelandro please inform the court of the reasons for your contradictory responses.”

Disciple turned away heading towards the Accusor’s table near the Inquisition’s arcade as if to dismiss Menelandro’s testimony.

“Thank you High Marshall. I did leave the relic of the Shadow Legion in the possession of the dark dwellers. I did not flee in the face of the enemy. It was made known to us that denizens of the shadow plane had torn through the fabric of reality and created an interdimensional plane into the center of Neversummer. All manner of atrocities were being committed, horrible things such as nightwalkers feasting on children and ancient shadows were sucking the souls from the defenders of the city. Worse there were reports that many of the HNs and Brethren warriors were away and the few left to ward the city were being brutally overwhelmed by massive waves of monstrous creatures. Such an affront to the laws that govern the planes of Aetheria and a disruption of Nature’s balance could not be allowed to stand. We decided that we had to go to the aid of the Last Alliance warriors, if only for the sake of the innocents.”

Disciple quickly turned and shouted to the Marshalls of Justice, “Objection High Marshall!!! He can not use the children’s lives as a means of validating his abandoning his Tyr-given duty to fight the evil of the shadow legion. It has been philosophically proven by the Inquisition that there are no innocents in any of the other factions. All are outside the laws of that govern us and our alliance with The Circle, and so are considered unbelievers. This unbelief renders them guilty by association.”

“Sustained, the “sake of the innocents’ is not a valid defense for abandoning a fight against the evil of the shadow legion. However, turning from a fight to another fight because it violates the laws that govern the planes is a valid defense. Proceed to the next phase of your questioning Accusor, the Marshalls will hear no more of fleeing in the face of the shadow legion the charge is to be stricken from the list of charges.”

Disciple bowed, “Menelandro in your own report to the elders of CLAD, you stated that;” disciple began reading from a vellum scroll “upon entering Neversummer, we were met by a mass of monstrosities. What defenders of the city we could see were driven mad by the enveloping darkness blinding them and causing such fear that they were tearing each other apart with their bare hands. One Alliance soldier was repeatedly jabbing his own thumbs into his eyesockets, and he must have been doing it for quite some time, the eyelids had even torn, one hanging limply along a nose awash in blood and ocular fluids. We,” Disciple paused “and for the courts record, We means Menelandro, the Strider Netyanis, the Strider Cindy Moon, and the druid of the Circle Sara.” He resumed reading from the scroll, “We were beaten back initially by the sheer weight of numbers of the shadow denizens present. However after a lengthy fight, we managed to clear the city of the enemy but only by joining forces with the defenders there. These were the druid Glow of the Brethren, Vladimir of The Brethren” Disciple stopped reading turning back to Menelandro, “did you aid these enemies of the North and in fact on three separate occasions use the resurrection spell to bring them back to life.”

“It might have only been three times, so yes I did aid The Brethren, however I contend that they are—“

Disciple waved off his testimony, speaking over his argument, “You’re contention has no bearing here, they are proven enemies of The Way and by inquisitorial decree are not to be aided by any member of Northern Coalition Forces.”

Menelandro shouted “Objection High Marshall, the inquisitorial decree brought up by the honored Accusor has not been ratified by the guild leaders nor made actual Northern Policy.”

Disciple quickly shouted over Menelandro’s statements “The Inquisition has long wanted this decree to receive the lawful attention it deserves. What better place for it to be made a legal policy than in this hearing?”

The High Marshall sat back in his chair taking a deep breath and conferred with the other Marshalls quietly. The entire court sat on the edge of their seats, even Menelandro’s demeanor had changed from the calm and stalwart to one of excited anticipation as he leaned forward slightly as if trying to hear what was being discussed. After a couple minutes, the Marshalls settled back into their seats rather than leaning in towards the High Marshall.

The High Marshall stood up “The activisim on the part of the Inquisition to bring about a ruling on their decree before allowing the guilds their input and judgement is one I find appalling in its disregard for the laws that govern our policy-making process. It wreaks of back-portcullis assaults and other shadowy or roguish tactics. The Inquisition is to be rebuked for this outrage and the architects of this political outrage will stand before the Marshall’s of Justice. That is if the Inquisition does not –“ even as he began making this statement, inquisitorial guard were leading the vice-regent of the inquisition and the Master at Arms of the Inquisition away towards the Exile’s tower. The place where exiled criminals were stripped of their city garb and wards and equipped with exile’s cloak and arms (a crude club) and sent forth into the lands of the undead in the Shaara valley where the would either die or escape into the wilds. “I see the inquisition has taken matters into their own hands, as always. We applaud their rigid adherence to justice. As to the objection, Menelandro is a cleric and it has been deemed that resurrection of fallen enemies in protection of the realm or as a part of missionary activities is both lawful and good in the sight of Tyr. His resurrection of our enemies was as apart of the higher duty of protecting the realm against the denizens of the shadow plane. Objection overruled. The three counts of aiding and abetting the enemy are to be stricken from the list of charges. You may proceed with the Inquisition’s case once more honored Accusor.”

“Thank you High Marshall.” Disciple bowed once more apparently unperturbed by how badly the case was going. Menelandro was feeling for confident. A ghost of a smile passed over Disciple’s face as he turned towards Menelandro. Menelandro at first thought it might have been because Menelandro was doing so well, then he saw the cold light of justice behind his friends eyes and his body went cold in response.

“So you cleared the area of Shadow Plane dwellers. You joined forces and went where.”

“First we went to the Shadow Legion, we had word that the shadow dwellers had also emerged in force there. We swept the temple of lolth clean and with the aid of some Last Alliance Sharpshooters were able to secure the temple. Sir Pepin of the Last Alliance came and gave us intelligence that the source of all these troubles was in the Shadow Plane itself and that we must go there quickly in order to stop it.” Menelandro paused and looked at Disciple suddenly aware of where the next possible attack would come from the Accusor. He looked at Disciple as if waiting for the Accusor to launch his assault.

“Go on.” Disciple said. Apparently taking orders from a Last Alliance officer was not the source his charge of high treason.

“We—“

“for the court’s record please state who this ‘we’ consisted of?” Disciple interrupted.

“Hmmm, lets see there were those who I arrived at Neversummer with mentioned previously all from the Circle. Then there were the Last Alliance Warriors, Glow of the Brethren, Vladimir of the Brethren, and Jester a bard,”

“Thank you, you may proceed with your tale.” Disciple said and turned back to his table appearing to make some notes on a piece of parchment there.

Menelandro stopped for a second. He was no stranger to the shadow plane. He was in the process of writing a treatise on artifact collection there. His knowledge of evocation powers coupled with his adherence to the healing domain made him well suited to exploration and study on that plane. However the ferocity of the attacks against the forces they brought with them to the shadow plane had shaken even his confidence in their ability to complete the mission set forth by Pepin. His vision clouded over with the ever enveloping darkness one had to deal with in the shadow realm. Nightmarish shrieks and cackles of shadow fiends filled his ears. He stumbled as he felt the draining influence of the nightwalkers, and winced at the flash of barely seen but monstrous claws of the renders. Suddenly they were all around him again. His knees suddenly felt weak and he almost succumbed to the maddening terror he’d fealt during his last excursion to the shadow plane.

“Menelandro?” Disciple was peering at him questioningly.

“Your pardon honored accuser, I was merely reminiscing on the horrors I witnessed in our endeavor.” The shadow plane had always been enough to shake the willpower of even the most stalwart spirit. This past excursion though had given Menelandro a new respect for the evil inherent in that place. His arrogance had made him weak and unprepared for the severity of the evil assault. He vowed he would hold on to his humility forever after that. Another lesson learned, despite his long years and many lives of service to Tyr. “We journeyed through that shadowed realm, fighting and finding our way to the source of the assault from that plane into Neversummer and the Shadow Legion. I daren’t name the evil that we met there, it would sully these hallowed proceedings, suffice to say it was banished by our combined efforts but only just.” Suddenly Menelandro had a growing fear in the pit of his belly.

Disciple grinned like a cat who had cornered a mouse, “And then Menelandro, what did you do. My sources tell me you had a conversation?”

“We did, a shadow dweller appeared to us, naming the evil that we had vanquished anathema to the shadow realm and a being that had overstepped their bounds. He rewarded us for this and then bade us leave the shadow realm.”

“You conversed with a shadow, a known evil, accepted a gift from him, and then let him live?” Disciple stated rather than asked, a note of incredulity creeping into his voice.

Menelandro felt a sinking feeling, “I did.” The finality of the statement belied the guilt he felt for his actions. He remembered seeing the shadow, feeling its evil eyes bore into his very soul and twisting at his resolve. His initial reaction had been one of outrage and disgust. The being was a warped and evil thing that must be eradicated from existence. Then it had spoken to them, calling their actions just and right. He was so shocked the spells on the tip of his tongue that would spark actions against this creature died there. Even now he was shocked into silence.

Disciple theatrically turned around eyeing all those at the proceedings as if to say ‘see he proclaims his guilt with his own lips.’ He clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval, “Oh Menelandro, oh how the mighty have fallen. A cleric of Tyr held a parlay with a Shadowspawn darkdweller. My mouth tastes of bile at the very thought of you, a sworn devotee and inspiration to the Northern Coalition, could be party to such a depraved and revolting act.” He turned with a dramatic flourish to the Marshalls of Justice. “The Accusor rests the case and wants an immediate ruling as to the charge of High Treason. Menelandro has by his own admission-“

“One moment honored Accusor.” A voice called from the crowd. Not a voice, the Voice, the Voice of Torm, the Herald of the Fists of the North stepped forward.

The crowd and the Marshalls so intent on Disciple suddenly shifted focus. Every eye was suddenly on the quiet and unassuming herald. The Voice never spoke unless it was to make declarations on the part of the Fists or to bring Torm’s tidings, or to sing songs to bolster the morale and prowess of his comrades in arms. The Inquisition looked suspiciously at the Voice. Menelandro was as shocked as they were, though he was sure that some were trying to find some means of making accusations of devilry.

“I am as shocked as the rest of you at these actions that Menelandro has admitted to. However, I would hear more as to the reason for these actions. Actions are not in and of themselves the only issues of relevance. I believe intent plays a role in justice as well. I would hear why Menelandro along with several members of The Circle let themselves be lulled into complacency and held parlay with the shadow.”

“Hear! Hear!” Called out Raynefire Quinn another cleric and a valued comrade of Menelandro. He was the spiritual leader of the Fists and an avid missionary in the southern lands where it was dangerous to even wear the colors of the Northern factions, let alone proselytize about Northern beliefs.

Menelandro’s grief and disgust were evident by the look on his face. A tear of self revulsion trickled from the corner of one eye, “The only excuse for my unpardonable actions was the creature called our actions justice and wished us no harm. I deemed it a fellow follower of the law, no matter how evil or shadowed its appearance. Perhaps I was just tired of fighting, tired of the terror, tired of the gore and the death around me. I know not for certain why we stayed our hand except that I felt this creature was lawful and therefore worthy of parlay.”

Disciple angrily stalked forward from the table of the Accusor shouting, “He still damns himself! Once again I must ask the Marshalls of Justice to come to an immediate ruling on the charge of High Treason.”

High Marshall leaned back in his seat, “Very Well, the Marshalls will hold conference.” The marshalls leaned together in a whispering huddle. They conferred for what seemed like an eternity to Menelandro, though it wasn’t more than a fraction of a candlemark. The discussion was a bit heated but it lasted for a brief period. However, after a couple hand waves, some nods, and one last whisper from the High Marshall, they all resettled themselves in their seats. The High Marshall looked out at the accused grimly.

“Will the Executioner of Judgement come forward.” The High Marshall motioned to the seated figure off to his right, the Paladin Ajantis stalked forward obviously resolute that the decision of the Marshalls would be carried out so that Justice might be observed. He came to stand at the back of Menelandro.

“The accused will come forward to be judged.” The High Marshall said.

Menelandro stepped down off the dais and walked forward to the stand before the Marshalls of Justice. The tear was gone, only the resolution to adhere to their judgement regardless of his personal feelings remained. He did not regret his actions. He had spoken truly and from the heart. Perhaps the shadow dweller had been evil, perhaps not. He believed his actions to have been the right ones.

“Strip the accused of the robes of shame.” The High Marshall stated with finality. Ajantis laid hands on the robe and with a sharp jerk tore them from Menelandro with his prodigious strength. Of course the seams were badly and weakly stitched so this could be done easily. Menelandro stood in only the undergarments of the humble, such as those that acolytes of ilmater would wear. The cool prevailing northern wind blew through the courtyard raising goosebumps across his cold flesh.

“Now clothe him in the robes of his office as a Crusader of CLAD. Let his folly be told throughout the land so that others will know that even the most holy of devotees to the law can stumble in their administration of that same law. Menelandro you have been deemed not guilty of High Treason--” A loud cheer erupted from the ranks of the other CLAD members and the ranks of the Fists. Kermit was noticeable disgusted as was Fezsick but Menelandro smiled briefly to himself thinking ‘you can’t win ‘em all. “--Your actions may have been questionable in light of your oaths and the precepts of our faith, but we believe that you were acting on behalf of the greater good of the realm. You are still to be punished and will submit yourself to the flagellation of the penitent every day for one hour for the next year. Duties permitting of course. You are free to go.”

Again the crowd cheered. Ajantis passed him his robes and war gear to dress himself. As Menelandro cloaked himself in the accoutrements of battle, he recited the litanies of deliverance in thanks to the Gods for their judgement of him and this second chance he had received to further glorify them in service to the Northern Coalition. He would never waver in administering justice towards evil no matter how fair seeming their words or actions. He would be an arbiter, he would be worthy of the title Crusader.

[frogofpeace]

Also, he turned me into a newt!

Nice story - evil and chaos better watch out!