[Day 4] To serve justice [Open]

Roland was present and had brought his squire, Hugh Blackwood, with him to observe proceedings.

"Mark it well lad, no man should raise his hand against servants of the faith, particularly a Septa."

"These vermin have earned a hanging: such a public display will also discourage their fellows from sinking to such depravity."

"When you come to lead, punishments must initially be done in private, as a public shaming may lead a man to think his honour gone and merely encourage him to further wickedness. However, when you judge a man a lost cause he can still serve a purpose as an example to others."

Roland folded his arms, uncaring of whatever personal circumstances had led these men to such villainy.

An ox-drawn wagon makes it's way through the crowds, at least two thousand smallfolk must have gathered to watch, a great many of them angry, hurling curses and rotten produce at the two condemned as they are slowly brought towards the gallows. The first sign of trouble is a commotion near where the path takes a turn among the crowd, a group of men, two dozen or pushes themselves through the ranks, making room where there is one, a boy screams for his mommy as she stumbles and falls beneath the throng of people, the boy fortunately being grabbed and pulled away by strong arms. To the cries of "Blood then Fire!" they elbow their way to the front and pelt the two murderers with stones.

Men at arms storm to with their cudgels to restore order in their own brutish fashion, but there are too many bodies in one place, nowhere to withdraw and the men in front is showed into a wall of flesh that pushes back, control is lost, leaving chaos and fear an opening to wreak havoc.

Meanwhile, the cart moves unimpeded towards it's destination, chained the two men had no way to cover themselves and both are bleeding, one having collapsed into a heap.

---

Challenges, characters may attempt one of the two:

Calm the masses: Persuasion(Convince) TN 12, orator applies.
-8 DoS total (accumulated among PC's) required to avoid panic, critical failure: add 2 DoS to requirement.
Gain +1 Disposition towards you from an NPC's (status=3+DoS) if panic is prevented, most likely a Tyrell.
-Characters may forego the persuasion test and instead attempt coordinate, granting +1 per DoS to all persuasion tests made.

Heroic rescue:
Will (Courage) TN 9 in order to be able to act, gain +1b per DoS beyond the first to each of the following tests (2b from these can be converted into 1D)
Critical failure: -1 chivalry or -1D confidence loss of confidence penalty in next jousting/combat scene (meaning jousting round 2 for most characters).

Athletics (Strength) TN 15
Endurance (Resilience) TN 15
Fighting (Brawling) TN 15
-Must succeed on all three to rescue the mother (gain +1 chivalry, if multiple PC's achieves this, there'll be someone else to save).
-May take 1 point of fatigue for +2 (effective +1 with penalty) to all tests, prior to rolling, or to any one test retroactively.
-May take 1 injury to add +3 to any one test (retroactively).
-May spend a DP to auto-succeed.
-Take 1 injury for each critical failure.
-If jousted: any penalties from this that would apply during the joust and retroactively affect the outcome: fatigue penalties then applies to all jousting on day 5, and injuries will not go away before the end of day 5.

Narrator note: Since most PC's may be absent from this scene, NPC's from player houses not represented will happen to be around to assist with calming the masses, and enough of them will take part to make the threshold reasonably achievable among those joining in.

Like many knights, Daeron attended the procession unarmed and in his tunic, not expecting things to get out of hand. He thought that there'd be a simple hanging and then nothing else, but as rocks began to fly he knew that something was wrong. Although he didn't personally care if the murderers died by noose or by stoning, taking that power from Lord Tyrell was a dangerous precedent to set and undermined the strength of the knights and nobility.

"By the Seven, everyone calm down! Lord Tyrell will serve justice and these murderers will receive death, it is not your place as his subjects to usurp his power."

As he's shouting at the crowd he sees the woman go down, underneath the mob. With a roar, he channels all of his frustrations of the day: Balon, Otho, even his performance at the joust into sheer anger as he charges right in, potential injury be damned. Showing the rabble why knights are still the ones in charge he uses his greater strength, size, and skills to plow through even the largest of the men, throwing his elbows and fists, secretly relishing in the violence of it all. For a moment he is too caught up in the melee and forgets why he's in there to begin with until he hears her shriek again. Focusing Daeron continues forward, headbutting a boy of no more than 16 who was standing on the poor woman before he picks her up with one arm, all the while using his other to make a path out of the mob.

Clear of the chaos, he unceremoniously drops the young mother in a soft patch of grass before looking around for any other knights who might aid him in quelling the riot.

"If this keeps up, we'll be keeping the peace with swords, not cudgels."

Crunch:

-TSJ-Calm the Masses-Persuasion (Convince)+Coordinate: 6d6k4+5 19 (2 DOS)

TSJ-Heroic Rescue-Will (Courage): 3d6 14 (2 DOS)
TSJ-Heroics-Athletics (Strength): 6d6k4 15 (1 DOS)
TSJ-Heroics-Endurance (Resilience): 4d6 22 (2 DOS)
TSJ-Heroics-Fighting (Brawling): 5d6 25 (3 DOS)

-Just realized that I could've used bonus dice from my Will test to bump up my results.. *facepalm* 

[My mistake. Apparently I’m illiterate and can’t read. I’ll attempt to redo the rescue.]

Like many knights, Daeron attended the procession unarmed and in his tunic, not expecting things to get out of hand. He thought that there'd be a simple hanging and then nothing else, but as rocks began to fly he knew that something was wrong. Although he didn't personally care if the murderers died by noose or by stoning, taking that power from Lord Tyrell was a dangerous precedent to set and undermined the strength of the knights and nobility.

As he observes the crowd he sees the woman go down underneath the mob. With a roar, he channels all of his frustrations of the day: Balon, Otho, even his performance at the joust into sheer anger as he charges right in, potential injury be damned. Showing the rabble why knights are still the ones in charge he uses his greater strength, size, and skills to plow through even the largest of the men, throwing his elbows and fists, secretly relishing in the violence of it all. For a moment he is too caught up in the melee and forgets why he's in there to begin with until he hears her shriek again. Focusing Daeron continues forward, headbutting a boy of no more than 16 who was standing on the poor woman before he picks her up with one arm, all the while using his other to make a path out of the mob. Although he’s not sure when he received the injuries, at some point he was dealt a heavy blow to the head by a thrown stone as well as a cudgel to the gut from a guard thinking that he was a rioter. 

Clear of the chaos, he unceremoniously drops the young mother in a soft patch of grass before looking around for any other knights who might aid him in quelling the riot.

"If this keeps up, we'll be keeping the peace with swords, not cudgels.”

TSJ-Heroics 2.0-Will (Courage): 3d6 12 (1 DOS)
TSJ-Heroics 2.0-Athletics (Strength): 6d6k4 16 (1 DOS)
TSJ-Heroics 2.0-Endurance: 4d6 9 (Critical Failure )
TSJ-Heroics 2.0-Fighting: 5d6 25 (3 DOS)

Take two injuries to pass the Endurance test.

Ser Parmen had come to see justice done. Unlike others who seemed to have only ventured out to fulfill their bloodlust, Parmen took no pleasure in watching an execution. But every action brought with it a reaction and every crime demanded a commensurate punishment. At Highever he tried to live by that and to be a just lord.

It was not easy. He was raised to be a warrior not to rule. He worked hard to learn new lessons and embrace new skills but sometimes he just wanted to mount his horse, swing his sword, and find a pretty girl to bed. Alas, he had responsibilities to more than just himself now and they were often far less enjoyable. Responsibilities that brought him out to bear witness at this early hour as the murders were transported to the gallows.

“Watch lad,” he said to his squire. “You may someday be called upon to carry out justice on behalf of your lord. If you become half the knight that I think you will then you won’t enjoy it much, but on that day you must not hesitate.”

Edwin nodded his understanding. Then his eyes went wide. “Look, Ser!” he cried out, pointing over Parmen’s shoulder.

Turning around Parmen watched as a full-scale melee was threatening to break out as enraged smallfolk, emboldened by the words of the septon from House Blackbriar, attempted to tear the condemned men apart. Lord Tyrell’s guards were trying to stop them, with fists and cudgels. Both sides seemed to have no problems with spilling more blood. Caught in the middle were townsfolk who wanted nothing more than to escape.

He grabbed Edwin by the arm and started to move away. It galled him to flee but only a madman would try to calm down an enraged mob.

That’s when he saw one. Clad in blue and yellow.

Oh, seven hells Malyk…

"Lord husband, will you be going to the execution?" Lady Delena was sitting in front of the mirror, her unnatural brown hair being teased out by her handmaiden.

Lord Alliser gives a slight snort, "sorry my Lady. There is little reason to watch this Justice being served. Dead men can not pay fines, and have already been put to the torture questioner. There is nothing more that I can learn besides what they might confess before their deaths." Shaking his head he sighs.

"Is that why you sent Regyn?"

Alliser nods, "he gets some delight over watching such things. Might as well grant this request."

---

"His neck will break. Sure thing. He must weight at least twenty stone." Regyn's cogambler had a tendency to overestimate weight.

"Bullshit!" Regyn exclaimed, "he is 14 Stone at most. Besides, I heard the executioner loves watching people dance." Regyn does some quick calculations, "two to one odds he does the hangman's jig." They all fall silent as the man from the church extolling them on the virtue of burning the men.

"Sounds like the church men thinks ole Leo's gone soft," remarked one in the group of gamblers."

"Seven to one states they burn, " Regyn remarks, and the group roar in laughter. They get back to arguing the finer details of odds and modifiers.

Suddenly the noise of rock clattering off wood reaches Regyn's ears over the bickering men. Standing up Regyn sees the surge of humanity towards the cart, with rocks sailing through the air. "Perhaps we should have laid odd's on the mob enacting the septon's words." He pointed out at the newly arising danger. "Perhaps we should make a different path to the hangman's grounds." The other gamblers see ether wisdom in their words and begin to scatter.

Regyn moves into the crowd, trying to find the man in the yellow shirt he had seen earlier. Hoping that he could get the man out before any major injuries occurred to him.