567 Old Sage (1/2)
It landed beside Scarmother Talon's feet.
Talon narrowed her eyes, ”Don't be so quick to judge. We Tyrions have a sworn duty to punish the wicked-- not to slaughter the innocent.”
”But Scarmother?” The man frowned, puffing out his chest like a petulant child, ”This one's obviously a Witch!”
”Flame take it, man,” Talon shook her head. She pointed at an Armored Champion, ”You there. Take this fish and give him 20 lashes for insubordination.”
”Yes, Scarmother!” The gentleman drew his sword and moved forward. He gripped the first Decanus by the elbow and whispered some choice phrases into his ear. Finally realizing his disrespect, the idiot kept his mouth shut as he was escorted away.
For that, Talon was thankful. According to wartime protocols, 20 lashes was the maximum non-lethal punishment she could assign... and she didn't really want to order him executed.
”Now, then...” She turned back to the Witch, ”Where were we?”
”Let us free...” The girl muttered, ”We haven't done anything to hurt anyone.”
”Ideas can do more harm than sword and spell,” Talon paced in front of her... ”Who taught you how to use magic?”
The Witch held her tongue and averted her gaze.
She was hiding something.
Talon grasped onto the half-human's soot-covered hair and pulled her head up, ”Where are you hiding her? Speak!”
The girl's panicked eyes betrayed her. Shehad glanced to the side, at the other captives.
Talon raised an eyebrow and pointed in the direction she briefly looked, ”One of these two, then?”
”NO!” The Witch screamed, ”My teacher did nothing wrong! Please! I'm telling the truth!”
”The man with the grey beard,” Talon gestured towards the captive at the far end, ”Remove his gag and blindfold.”
Invoker Agathe hurried forward, ”Aye, Scarmother.”
She removed the blindfold of the older man. His grey hair and beard were marked with streaks of white and sharp lines were cut deeply on his face. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, as well as cuts and swells.
He had not gone quite peaceably.
Talon walked to him and met his gaze... the same rebellious eyes as that of his student.
”What's your story, then, old timer?”
The man pursed his lips... and when spoke, it was with measured words, ”It was I who taught these two half-elves Alizeaun magic. It is my fault for deceiving them and mine alone.”
”Teacher, NO!!” The Witch screamed.
The old man was not a very good liar.
He then inclined his head, wearing a disgustingly fake smile, ”Please, Centurion. I submit to your laws and request execution for my sins.”
”Very well,” Talon saluted. ”By the Flame, you shall be purged. By dragonfire, you will be born anew.”
”Wait!” The old man's eyes shot open, horrified. ”What-- that's IMPOSSIBLE!”
”Behold, Tyrion flames,” Talon smiled warmly, ”It's a step above anything your nation can produce-- but really shouldn't be *too* surprising.”
”No!!!” He screamed, straining his voice to do so, ”Dragons! DON'T! EXIST!”
”Ohhhh, is that what this is about?” Talon shook her head... then sneered arrogantly, ”I'm pleased to inform you that actually, they do. And when they return, the Sons and Daughters of Qotal will march on your so-called 'Magic Kingdom' and burn your capital to the ground.”