675-06-10 - Execution of the Followers

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Execution of the Followers
Summary: The followers of Asmenachia and Priestess Leshara receive their punishment.
Who: Noria Landos, Moshe Machuri, Priestess Leshara, Abegayle Onimus, Nimoria, Edris Alachri, Ralph Fennim, Slider and Bertram
References: None
When: June 10th, 675
Related Logs: All tapestry theft logs
Date of RP: 10/06/2014 - 13/06/2014
Where: Amphitheatre - Steelea, Isle of the Crown
Room Desc: The massive Amphitheater opens before you, rounded viewing stands rising from the slight dip towards the middle that serves as a stage area. This stage is decorated depending on the event, though if no performances, public worshiping, or speeches are going on, it is empty and devoid of such. And yet it's not always empty, for the local kids enjoy playing here, fascinated by the way that sounds carries in a way that even those at the end of the viewing stands can hear whatever is said from the middle. It's also become a place for commoners in love to sit privately and whisper in each other's ear.


The amphitheatre is briming full. It has almost a carnival atmosphere. Hawkers are selling roasted nuts and other yummy things. The noise level is very high. On the amphitheatre floor are 31 poles. On each is a member of the Cult of Asmenachia. One one is their high Priestiss. Her pole is placed so that she can see the others. Every once in a while someone throws something at the Guilty and makes some comment. There are those that laugh and those who turn away. In an Alcove standing with Novices and Onises is the high Oni, Noria Landos. Everyone of them is dressed in their Best. Waiting for the ceremony surrounding the execution to begin.

Chained to one of the poles is the Priestess Leshara, the expression on her face is stony, but even so the look in her eyes bears witness to what she has had to endure so far. However, it will be nothing compared to what she is to go through today. She wears the brown robe of the priestess of Asmenachia that looks slightly torn in places, the light blue wimple missing though, as if that right had been denied to her, revealing brown hair that hangs about her face in a rather unkempt way. Her gaze is lowered, her lips slightly moving as if she were engaged in a long prayer to her Patrons. Outwardly unmoved by any insults or other matters being tossed at her, she for now, keeps what is left of her dignity.

Many spectators have come to witness the execution, among them a red haired woman in a fine dress of ultramarine blue. Moving about with the grace and confidence that would become a noblewoman well, Edris Alachri has managed to gain one of the better seats at the top. Far enough from the spectacle to risk her dress getting ruined, and high enough to have a good view on things. Beside her is her valet and bodyguard, Bertram, who studies the crowd with attentive calm and very pale blue eyes.

The Queen herself is present as well as Nimoria, the mysterious woman that has appeared by her side recently. They are both watching, letting the ceremony begin, letting the High Onis Noria do her duties.

Moshe has taken a spot on the stands, closer as can be to the ground with a couple of guards near by. He watches, this is not his show but he has done his duty and will make sure all is done before his demeanor changes to relaxation. He is nearby, making sure the men assigned to this task are ready and prepared to take orders, he is there to make sure they are followed to the letter.

Slider is among the crowd of commoners but managed to slink his way into the front to get a good view, watching how the law in this place is like. His eyes roam the crowds, looking to the area of teh nobles. he is not dressed fancy but simple common folk attire, he feels comfortable in his cloak.

This is a public matter and an offical occasion, and so Lord Ralph Fennim is present as well. Attired in black as usual, which gives the diplomat of Two Rivers a sombre look that fits in a way, his look almost as dark as his doublet and breeches, he will be somewhere near the Queen, studying the proceedings with an unmoving face. But yes. There is a cup of wine in his hand that may help coping with the gruesome punishment that is about to commence.

The horns blare out! The hawkers quickly finish their sales. People begin to scurry towards their seats. As the noise lessens the Horns Blare out again. There is almost slilence in the Amphitheatre. The silence lengthens. And then Gates open and Four sets of 4 horses enter. They are led by People in black and white costumes. They move into the theatre taking up positions of the compass. The the soft singing of prayers by the Aprentices dressed in the white Habits. Each one is carrying a banner of the star os Onimoria. Behind them come the Onses dressed in Black and White and Finally High Oni Noria Landos enters walking slowly her head bowed as if in prayer.

At the sounds of the horns, Leshara will raise her gaze slowly, blinking as she sees that many horses being led in. Her lips stop moving for a brief moment, and her brows rise ever so slightly, as if some suspicion were dawning on her. But then her hands fold again before her and she lowers her gaze, resuming her prayers.

Edris tilts her head a little to the side as she watches the commotion. "Fine horses they are," she mutters towards her escort who smiles faintly in reply. The fiery haired woman lets her gaze drift over the crowd, offering this and that acquaintance a nod in greeting when she should meet a gaze. Slider is not among those, whether by design or because she simply has not spotted him in the crowd.

A bit of air leaves Ralph's nose, when the horses are brought in, but he keeps any comment he might have to himself. For now content to take an occasional sip of wine, as long as he can enjoy the taste of it without getting distracted.

Moshe continues to watch as the Horns blows, his eyes on the entrance of the horses and then High Onis. He had made sure he got the best horses for this, there is not going to be no problems at least he hopes.

Marcus looks to the blaring sounds of horns and he can't help but smiles, it is about to begin and he becoems one with the crowd, he enjoys good entertainment, as long as it does not hurt him in the long run.

As the Onises enter they begin to spred out. The sound of the singing rising in praise to the Onimoria. As they move around the Ampitheatre, they begin to move to stand at opposites points to the horses. High Oni Noria moves to stand beside the high Priestess of Asmenachia.

Those eyes are again raised a touch when Noria approaches her. Leshara however avoids to look at the High Oni directly, her gaze flickering towards the priestess from the corner of her eye. Her lips are still moving, they are dry, the words coming from her mouth but a hoarse whisper as she continues her litany to Ylirena. Her hands tightening about each other, as if she imagined strangling the High Oni at this very moment.

Moshe scans the crowd, he had made sure there were pleanty of guards and men around, you never know what may transpire when this is occuring. Though like ever a knight, his eyes roam been ready iff needed. Though most times he looks to the High Onis and the Priestess, watching, waiting.

One finger twirls a stray fiery red strand of her hair, as Edris continues to watch what is going on the amphitheatre with attentive eyes. That does not keep her from leaning over to Bertram to whisper something into his ear, followed by a low chuckle.

The Fennim leans a little foward now, that the High Oni Noria steps towards the supposed delinquent, his hands playing idly with the already empty cup. His mien slightly brooding as he studies the priestess and her illegal counterpart. This is where good and bad meet. But... who is which?

The singing comes to an abrupt halt. Noria steps Forward and turns to face the Priestess. She lifts her voice so that all can hear. So all can be aware that the priestess is given a true chance. "The Worship of Onimoria, Lotingus, and Marguerite is the only true Faith. All else is Blasphamy. You are accused and convicted of Treason Against the Queen, Treason against Onimoria, Theft of a Holy Relic, Murder." She pauses to let the people hear and understand. From a side gate comes the Executioner with his large axe type weapon. He comes to the center of the Theatre. Noria Begins again. "According to the Holiest, The Book of Lotingus, Punishment for Treason against the Queen is a swift death. Treason against the True Faith is not." As if on cue one of the horses whinnies. "Denounce the False teachings. Beg the Onimora for forgiveness. Turn back to the true teachings. Save your self and your followers from Quartering. Save your imprtal Soul."

Moshe does not do much, just watches, though he is tense, his hand on the pommel of his blade, he will make sure this goes through to the end. As he listens he nods, he had hoped for swiftness for the followers but the Priestess deserves the worst. Still, there will be justice and he will remain until it has been done.

Meanwhile Marcus has been watching, silent as others and it is at this time he looks back along the crowd, the nobles and taking in the faces. He see's Ralph but decides not to say anything, rather rude in a great speach. Then he see's Edris and there is a grin, though he looks back to the spectacle that is to come.

Leshara continues with her silent prayers, until Noria starts her speech. Suddenly she straightens, her lips stop moving and she holds her hands folded as before. One might notice the fingers of her right hand show traces of blood here and there, where they have not been bandaged. A proud flicker appears in her eyes, as the corners of her lips twitch downwards, and yes, she gives Noria a look of contempt. Leshara will give Noria the time she needs to complete her offer, before she raises her voice, that still has the ability and the strength to reach the farthest corners of the amphitheatre. "I will...", she begins, before she shakes her head. "Yes. I will stay true, to the only true faith there is. Where Patrons are equal. Where all Patrons are equally worshipped. So I am indeed not guilty of blasphemy as I am serving the Truest Faith there is."

Some murmur can be heard among the crowd when the Priestess of Asmenachia states this. "As for the treason... I will take blame for it, aye. I... want to step before Ylirena as a pure soul, so I admit I planned the theft. And saw to it that it was carried through. But. I did NOT commit a murder! I swear by the Patrons, I am not guilty of that crime." A dry mirthless chuckle escapes her as she turns her gaze towards the crowd. "The murderer is still among you! You better pray for your lives, or you could be next! Or you should ask yourself... How a Queen can accept that the true culprit still roams the streets? Maybe... she lacks the right faith or just the wits to rule this kingdom!" And there, a mad cackle comes from her, rising in volume and pitch that fills the amphitheatre as she glares at Noria, with a mad gleam in her eyes.

Edris's chuckle dies on her lips as she listens to what the Priestess of Asmenachia has to say. "Poor woman," she mutters. "She's mad!"

Ralph meanwhile watches in silence, his dark gaze lingering on Noria first as she brings her accusations forth, then Leshara who gives a somewhat sensible reply before she drifts off into madness. Even if these are not his gods, the Fennim can clearly understand that the chained priestess has chosen the harder path for both herself and her followers. Air leaves his throat as he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

Noria, the High Oni, sighs. It is what she expected. "Do you not understand that the murder is the least of your crimes?" Her voice although not addressing the crowd still carries. She turns and nods to the Executioner who turns and walks back to the alcove. When he is out of sight She raises her hands towards the sky. Her face looking up. Her sleeves falling down to expose self inflicted wounds. She raises her voice in Prayer. "Oh Holy Triumphant. Look down upon your daughter. Look down up on this undertaking. Fill us with determination to see your will done. Grant us the ability to show mercy to where it should be given. Pray give us the strength to see this horror through to it's holy end." She drops her hands to her side and her head to a submissive posture. Ten of the Onises draw sacrificial daggers. Small to be held by women. The hilts encrusted with stones made to look like the ring of Onimoria. Then then move towards the 30 facing the Priestess. When they come to a halt behind 10 of the offenders, Noria turns to look at all thirty. "For your Priestess's crimes you too shall be convicted. But where she had the choice to save you all from a horrible death, she refused." a nod of her head and the Oni slice the ropes of ten women. "Step forward. And be counted."

The women that feel themselves so suddenly released, cannot help but flinch, then whimper. Some fall to their knees to beg the High Oni to spare them from the fate there can be hardly much doubt about by now. Their pleading voices can be heard even as far up as to where Edris stands. "Poor souls," she comments, almost sympathetic, before she gives a light shrug. "But then again... she brought it upon them."

Leshara frowns at Noria's reaction, yet she should have seen it coming. "The murder is the one thing I did not commit.", she says. "I will not admit a deed I have had no hand in. If that is a crime as well...?" Her eyes follow the executioner as he walks off, and a shiver seems to ripple over her body as she suddenly realizes that her one option of a clean death just disappeared. Her eyes shift to the Onises, to the ten followers who are released, and her jaw sets as she lowers her gaze again, perhaps unable to endure their looks of despair.

Noria holds her hands out in front of her as if in suplication. Her face raises to look up at the sky as if listening. Then she looks down at the ten, "Onimoria was given no mercy. Not by those she loved and trusted. You were not to be spared by your priestess. But you 10 shall be shown mercy. Onimoria grants this. Praise be to the Love shown to you today." She drops her hands and ten apprentices come to the ten who have been spared. They help them up and help them move out of the way.

Slider keeps on watching and he does note the priestess has condoned the deaths to her followers, scary the devotion , also so can mad people be as devoted. So Slider watches, his eyes on the proceedings and even mananges to show a grin.

Moshe watches as ten are released, he knew the priestess was not going to give in, he had spent enough time with her to know but that is her fate, she deserves it. As the women get released he watches, he says nothing to anyone, his concentration of what is happening, he has men to watch others.

Nine of the ten Oni make a show of returning their blades to their sashes. Turning as one they head back to stand with their group. One from each group of horsemen draw swords and moves to the front of the remaining sacrifices. When they have reached their positions Noria turns once agains to the priestess. "Do you recant your faith and beg Onimoria for forgiveness?"

Ralph inhales sharply as he hears the ten women will be the ones that are to be freed. His dark brooding eyes flickering with a bit of relief, before he turns his gaze towards those twenty women and men that are left - and the mad Priestess of Asmenachia.

Leshara's lips purse as she considers the question Noria gives her, and even though her mouth feels terribly dry she manages to spit out before the Priestess. "How could I recant? When it would be blasphemy to do so? How can I... beg Onimoria,..." and there her head turns to cast a glance up to where the Queen sits. "For forgiveness? Never! How can I pray to a Goddess that indulges in watching this spectacle? No. I remain faithful. To the Patrons. Let my death be an example of TRUE FAITH to all followers of ASMENACHIA!!!!"

"And as you have already decided their deaths, these here will gladly follow my example to receive Ylirena's blessing from HER OWN HANDS!", she adds after a brief pause.

Slider listens and watches, this is entertaining but the woman is making things worse for her and her cult members. So he whispers to soem one beside him and then to another and so on, he moves about. " She should ask teh ones that are going to be dying if they repent, give them a choice, quick ..right." as he moves among the crowd. He should really keep his mouth shut but he is always looking to cause some mischief.

Noria seems to have lost her temper, "so be it! Their suffering is on your hands. Their blood on your soul." she turns abruptly "Choose four. Two male and two female." she waves in the Guards to escort the swordsman and the chosen to the horses." The remianing Oni moves behind those on the poles and cuts their bonds, shoving on them towards the swordsmen. Two men, two women. There is no escape, no hope of a lesser death. Noria Spreds her arms wide, her head thrown back, "Watch you false Gods. Watch what happens when one of your followers refuses to bow before the Three. Before Onimoria! Remember you did not show Mercy and now we will not." She stays that way for a long moment and then turns to watch the 4 being dragged off. Her arms dropping to her sides.

The chosen four seem reluctant to cheer about the doubtful honour. A bit of shouting occurs, when one of the men tries to pull himself free, but is grabbed even more firmly by the guards. The women are crying, despair written all over their faces, but they do not resist. Leshara looks at them with a warm gaze, her lips even curve into a smile. "Hush, children. The reward will be more than you can imagine. The Patrons acknowledge the worth of True Faith, and we will meet again in a few moments to receive the blessings, and whatever they will hold in store for us..."

Edris watches as the four are being dragged off, and she shoots Bertram a glance. "I am not sure I want to watch this," she mutters into his ear, as her fingers move to gather her skirts. "The outcome is clear, anyway. So, come along and escort me back to the Dream, eh? With the amphitheatre being so close by, we will certainly have many visitors later on, I'd wager." And there she moves down the stairs, led by her bodyguard, as they walk towards the exit.

The punishment is neither elegant nor noteworthy. A convicted is led between two horses where their arms are tied to a saddle type contraption. Then their legs are lifted to be tied to two more horses facing in the opposite direction. For crimes against the Faith, the horses are not whipped and so are just led until the convicteds arms and legs are first pulled out of their sockets and then eventually ripped off. The the remaining body part if still alive is dropped to the ground and ignored. Until clean up and then whether alive or dead it is fed to the pigs. Knowing this Noria waits until all four are afixed to their horses and then she gives the word. "Begin!" and it has begun.

Ralph eyes the empty wine cup in his hand, shaking his head as he decides against a refill. He can already imagine what lies ahead of those four unfortunate souls, but really there is no way. He is to stay and watch until that damned execution is over. His dark gaze drifts back to where the horses are pulling, and he swallows when he hears the screams.

Leshara watches in almost feverish excitement, not averting her gaze for a moment. "You'll be fine!", she calls, grinning widely. "We will be with the Patrons in a moment, and they will reward you!" But there is a moment when the priestess just closes her eyes, and her grin threatens to turn into crying, her fingers trembling as she looks down at her hands. "They...will...reward...us...all.", she mutters, as tears now flow freely over her face.

It is a horific as one would imagine it to be. The slow pulling of the victims Limbs. At first it is uncomfortable. Then hurts and then agonizing. and then Beyond. The sound of joints being pulled out of the sockets is preceeded with scream of anguish. The slack on the horses being quickly pulled taunt. Then the flesh rips. It does not take long. only a few minutes. and then there is quiet. That is what is so strange. The quiet. Noria does not look at the Priestess. She nods to the Oni and the next four are chosen. As the horses are prepared for the next group, Noria proves she is a caring being. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a long moment. Then she straightens her shoulders and waits for the horsemen to be ready.

Ralph's lips twitch, he really is trying to watch, but then at the last moment he lowers his gaze. But the screams are even worse, the sound, when flesh is torn apart, the crunching of bones being pulled free from the joints, and so the Two Rivers man ends up wishing he were miles from this place, his gaze turned inward, as he waits for these four to finally be released from their anguish. And there. Four more follow. Ralph shakes his head, as he lets his gaze now drift over the crowd, watching the expressions on those faces, a glance shot towards the Queen and that white haired young woman beside her.

Leshara falls to her knees now, if the chain allows, now giving in finally to the grief over what her people have to endure. Her face almost white, the lips a firm line. Her eyes somewhere far away. As her lips start to move again, resuming the prayer from before to her Patrons and especially to Ylirena.

The Queen is sitting in one of the best places, where she can see everything very well, hear everything very well too. Moreover, she has a small roof over her own and her escort's heads, in case it would start raining.

Abegayle's posture is very calm. She keeps her dark gaze fixed on the spectacle below. She does not miss any move, she does not lower her gaze away from the torn bodies.

It looks like that the Queen is really used to such a view. The punishment of the traitors does not bring a more vivid expression to her features than the cup of morning tea would.

The Queen of the Isles is surrounded by the Guardians of Onimoria, whose long cloaks with the symbol of Onimoria - the lily - are blowing in a small breeze. These men are not moving at all. Though, they do not look at the spectacle either. Their gazes are just fixed on the horizon straight in front of them.

Closer to the Queen three Royal High Onises are standing. Not all of them are able to watch the torture of lost souls. Some flinch, some close their eyes and breathe deeply. The only one, who looks totally different than anyone else around is Nimoria. She is not just sitting on the right side of the Queen, but she is enjoying the moment.

Nimoria's breathing is slow, but very deep. Her clearly visible nude chest through the lucid white scarf raises up and down in a very calm manner. Her slightly rosy lips are parted a bit. Two eyes color of ice are fixed on one of the victims of treason. The mysterious woman does not turn her gaze away. She takes in each detail of the rackling body. The way her eyes sparkle, seeing the blood, hearing the screams of pain, noticing the tears of the poor souls could bring shivers to anyone, who notices it. There is something in her eyes, something, what would glint in the eyes of the man, who is watching the seductive dance of the girls from the Night's Dream. There is something in her eyes, something, what would glint in the eyes of the woman, who is trying the most tasty slice of cake in her whole life.

Nimoria's pale hands are resting on the elbow-rest of her seat. Just one of these hands slowly rolls into a fist, letting the fingers dig their nails into that pale flesh of her palm. The blood slowly starts rippling down, while the woman just continues staring at the view. She sticks a tiny part of her tongue out in order to lick the lips slowly as if trying to gather the last drops of the old and most expensive wine.

Those watching from the stadium seats would see Noria the High Oni making sure the second set of executions go off without a hitch. Since this group is also two men and two women. There is both hysterical crying and angry exclamations of foul play. The convicted are strapped to the horses and again the horses are slowly led into the execution. Noria is aware of the smell. In a world where unwashed bodies are not uncommon, the stench of blood, and excrement is still overwhelming. A couple of the newest novices are held up by their compatriots. No one is allowed to leave the scene. Noria justifies these actions to herself because of her devotion to Onimoria. But still they leave her shaken.

Slider had tried to do something but it was obviously to late, so he had stayed and watched. The excitement in the air, the crowds reaction to the first screams and ripping of bodies. He had seen many deaths in many different styles but this is the first this way. The screams of agony send a shiver down his spine, one that he has not felt in years. Still he can't help but watch, there is something about watching people die and in this fashion. As bodies get torn apart Marcus grips his hands together and firmly, sliding them a little at a time. He does look back to look at the nobles reactions or maybe it's and excuse not to see for at least a moment. A woman throws up around him but he ignores it, like most others, except the ones covered in the wet vial stench. Out of them all he notices the guards, stoic as ever and the Queen, firm and not looking away, that is a monarch and needs respecting. Then the woman close by, he had heard the rumors and this be the first time he actually seen her and yes, she is a sight to behold. Like the Queen, she seems not to look away but different way, something but then the woman beside him passes out and bumps into him.

Moshe is a man of honor, he has completed the task asked of him to be done by the Queen, found the one who has tried to break the Isles backbone. He knows the priestess deserves a gruesome death but the others, they deserve a death but at least quick. In her own pride the Priestess has put them in the most agonizing death that he has seen. Still Moshe makes himself look on, still he watches and in all likely will forget soon after that this has occurred. He listens to the crowd, he watches the crowd briefly and knows , this is making a big statement, one that shows the mercy and the cruelty in the justice system in the Isles, let all know and fear. There is a brief look towards the Queen and her guards, there is a brief look to Nimoria. Then just like that he looks back to the executions and breaths deeply.

It is hard to tell if the stench of excrements and vomit really bothers the Priestess at this moment. Her eyes have already drifted from the spectacle, directed somewhere far away. Her lips still moving, the prayers are not that silent anymore, as she raises her voice, maybe to drown the screams and unpleasant sounds of death and dying. Maybe for other reasons.

"...YLIRENA,,, watch over us...protect us.... cradle us... in your gentle arms..." The prayer is offered with a shaky voice, that regains more and more strength, really struggling to get heard, as her prayers become more and more fervent. And threatening. "GILDARIUS, bring judgement to these fools, lead them back onto the right path...." Very briefly her gaze flickers towards the Queen but seems to linger on Nimoria. "DALAMINA! Send them floods that will drown their loved ones... Sink their ships...HORINDUS... Kill them with steel. Bring war to them, bloody battles... that will bring these fools death and teach them humility!!! ILANAS.... cover them with earth, suffocate them, until they die a painful death... Avenge us, who are your humble and only TRUE servants..."

Ralph has given up to bring himself to watch the proceedings. His dark gaze is lowered to his empty cup, his thoughts engaged in an own silent prayer it seems, to speed up the horrible task of punishing the followers. The sooner he gets away from here, the better.

Then the quiet comes at last. Noria turns to look at those who are still bound. She nods again and the Oni moves behind them. To the onlookers it might look as if the choice of victim is random. Someone dies just because it takes the Oni's fancy. But nothing is farther from the truth. The 10 were selected in advance. Nothing random or haphazard about the choices. 10 followers of the Priestess were leaders in training. These were chosen to move up in the cult. Noria did her research. The others are just that, followers and if left alive they were no danger to the Onimora, To the Queen. Noria would not put that duty off on an Oni. She chose the victims herself. She stood by her decisions. The last two to be selected are the most dangerous after the Priestess. The Oni hesitates as if not sure who should be chosen and then chooses. The guards come and take the final two.

Noria turns and for the moment listens to the priestess's prayers. "They will not come to your aid. They are weak. They are afraid. They have no honor. Just as you yourself have no honor. Watch the final two. For then It will be your turn."

Slider had watched, not a hint of getting sick or been disgusted by the spectacle, more like amused and noting that he would not want to be where they all are or were as some are already dead and torn to pieces. There is silence from him but all around him there are cheers, people vomiting, getting sick and at least two passed out around him. Which really, after helping them lay down and not get trampled a little change they had would be nicely put in his own coffers.

Moshe on the other hand, can't wait until this is done, he knows there be a clean up but others can do that. The stench of the place is horrific and the frown on his face shows it. As the priestess continues to pray, he can barely hear much, with the crowd been loud but alas he gives up and watches. He does take a look around, trying to make sure all are in place.

The last two are women, of course, being the next candidates to take the priestess's place at the Asmenachia Temple in Piradin. One is rather young, in her mid-twenties, a thin woman with black hair framing a rather plain face. She'll exchange a terrified glance with the other, older and rather plump woman, both are wearing the blue ribbon on their right arm. Not a single word passes their lips, as their gazes connect briefly with that of Leshara, the priestes pausing in her angry litany to offer both a nod, her eyes conveying gratitude for their loyalty as well as despair for what awaits them.

"Blessed be those who GIVE THEIR LIFE for the true belief," Leshara continues then, her voice now ringing through the amphitheatre, taking advantage of the perfect acoustics of the place, as well as her full alto voice that is used to give sermons, which comes in handy especially now, as she delivers what most certainly will be her last speech." Tears run down her cheeks, but she does not sob, as she stands there, with the stubborn pride of those that refuse to give in to an inevitable fate. "Blessed indeed! When the last day comes it will be us who will be permitted to sit at the Patrons' side. While you will be damned. ALL OF YOU!"

Ralph will look up now, as he hears the words of the priestess of Asmenachia, his dark eyes narrowing as he studies her for a brief moment. He'll turn his head again to look towards the Queen and Nimoria, then to let his gaze wander randomly over the crowd, suddenly spotting Marcus down there, very much to the front of where the gruesome spectacle takes place. Raising his eye brows, as his hands continue to toy idly with the empty cup.

Two of the novices look as if they are going to pass out. Some are vomiting but no one asks to leave. It is almost in slow motion. The two are led to the horses. If they are crying it is quietly and they do not resist when they are tied to the horses. Just hanging from the horses has to be painful and yet so far neither makes a sound. Noria gives a nod and the horses begin to pull. Why is it worse to kill two when four have died? Noria is not sure. But when the young one begins to scream, Noria wants to leave. But she stands firm. She has to. She is a High Oni. She believes what she is doing is just. But more so it is necessary. She breathes through her mouth as the horses do their gruesome task. It is as if the horses are growing tired and taking longer. at least Noria would like them to move faster. A cloud passes beneath the sun. The rays become visible and they seem to give Noria strength. It seems to be an omen. When the screams silence she turns to look at the Priestess. "You have been found guilty. You have watched some of your followers proceed you. Now. Go" and the guards cut her bonds and lead her towards her doom.

Slider does not look away, the smell of blood and vomit does not bother him at all and he is interested in what has transpired so far. He says nothing to no one, he is his own man and keeps to himself. He does glance back to the noble area and looks about, noting Ralph not looking to well or not at all. Then he turns away, staying to the last.

Moshe can't help himself, he is indeed one of the few who has to watch, who has to make sure all goes alright, his duty demands it and he is duty bound to see it through. As more of that aweful stench fills his nostrils, his angry look becomes more pronounced. So once again he looks around, making sure all is in order before he looks back to the executions.

"Kalira! Berylla! May the Patrons accept your sacrifice, a gift of your true devotion," Leshara continues as the two women are being led towards their fate. This is not worse than the ones before, at least judging from the Priestess's face. Although her gaze will follow her two sisters in faith this time, her mouth twitching as she watches how they are being tied to the horses. "BE STRONG!", Leshara calls, despair written all over her face when Berylla starts to scream, and it is when that scream abruptly dies, and the youg woman is torn apart, that the Priestess of Asmenachia sinks to her knees agan, as deep sobs leave her throat, her gaze drifting to Kalira in the moment the woman is torn apart. And for once it seems, the priestess is silenced. Perhaps because she knows that she will be next.

Not looking up towards Noria when she is addressed by the High Oni now. When the guards come to get her, unlocking that chain then pulling her to her feet, the proud woman seems to be gone. Her face whiter than snow as she is being led to the horses, her gaze flickering for a last time over the crowd. Some shy away when her gaze meet theirs, and indeed, Leshara's looks could kill right now.

And there her voice breaks free again from the depths of her chest. "CURSED. CURSED be all of you! Before the year is over, you will all be DEAD. This is the end. OF THE ISLES. OF FELAGURIA! The true PATRONS will bring their WRATH down upon all of you, and FELAGURIA will BURN until NOTHING IS LEFT OF IT!!!!"

Ralph looks up when the Priestess is led to the horses, and a deep sigh escapes him. Now it will be over soon, that is for sur. It is this fact that offers some hope to him at least. Marcus face is noted again, when the man turns for a moment, a nod is offered in greeting, but all polite courtesies suddenly seem useless, when his gaze drifts towards the priestess now. Really attempting to watch this time, the death of the one who wanted to thwart all endeavours for an alliance between Two Rivers and the Isles.

Noria watches as the Priestess curses the world. She shakes her head realizing for a moment that they are not that different. She follows along behind the guards he own lips moving in prayer but this is a duty that she will not shirk. She stands there watching as they tie her to the horses face up. This is important Because Noria wants Onimora to see the priestess of the cult as she dies. Once the woman is suspended between the four horse. She gives the order. "now." she says softly and the horses begin to strain into it.

It felt like a long time coming, Slider had been watching, letting people bump into him which is fine, their focus on what is happening makes him aware of other things, that some of these people will leave this place without a coin in their purses. Maybe it's natural, it just happens but over all his is a bit heavier. Though really when the two women got torn apart, he did not bat a eye, he's almost become bored of the scene. Though it is the priestess that is keeps his interest, the curses, the last bit of curses she is spitting out from her lips. The anger behind them and how she looks around when she says them, maybe it is time to leave the Isles.

Moshe had watched the who ordeal, every torn body, every body dragged away and replaced by another. He has got used to the smell but not overly. The more he watched the more he is anticipating the end result and the priestess is the end result. Now as the Priestess does look and curse and with venom that of a cursed thing that Moshe seems to think. Though as instantly a thought appeared, he shakes his head, he believes that Onimoria will guide them well and eventually ignores all doubts he had in mind and his jaw sets and he watches for the end result.

Leshara falls silent now, and does not resist when the guards apply those leather straps, to bring her into that uncomfortable position, her eyes blinking when she is almost blinded by the rays of the sun as her face is turned towards the sky, her arms and legs trembling from the incredible strain. In that pale face the mouth is twitching as she hears the order, and the horses start to pull her apart. A low sound escapes her, as the first wave of pain takes her almost by surprise, then as it becomes worse, that moan turns into a wail, her eyes now open wide, not evading the light any longer.

And then there is a thud as the horses suddenly move freely away from each other, each dragging a bloody limb behind. And there in the center of the amphitheatre lies her torso, in remains of the robe, the face still turned upward, staring at the sky with the eyes of the dying, the gaze broken, as blood leaves the body in rythmical gashes, feeding a pool of blood beneath her.

A sight that will certainly haunt Ralph Fennim in his dreams. The diplomat of Two Rivers swallows hard, his face even paler against his black attire, and he closes his eyes for a moment, relieved in a way that it is over, but then on the other hand still horrified by what he has just witnessed. The execution of a Priestess of Asmenachia. He inhales deeply, as that cup falls from his hand, shattering as it hits the ground. The muscles in his hand are hurting from the tension.

Noria watches and as the torso drops in an unseemly plunk, Noria turns to the Filled amphitheatre. Raising her voice she stretches out her arms. Her announcement is simple, "It is finished for Today. The Blasphemer is dead. The Traitor is dead. Her punishment will follow her into the next life." She drops her arms and turning. She watches the Novices group together and leave. Then the Apprentices, then the Onises. She herself turns to look at those still bound. "Tomorrow you will know your fate." then she too leaves almost regally.

Slider watches as the priestess is finally silenced for ever. As people stare and then eventually move on he stays and watches and even watches the clean up. There is something to be said about a man who really has no fears, even watching the executions, it seems not to phase him. After all is done, he does turn to look around and follows the others out, there is a grin on his lips then.

Moshe lets a breath of relief leave his lips and is glad nothing went wrong. His eyes seeming to look about, looking back now at the Queen and her group as they depart. Soon after Moshe watches to make sure all has been cleaned up and proper and then finally he can rest, his shoulders slump alittle and finally he can go and see Duchess Lisabette once again.

And so the people start filtering out of the amphitheatre, and voices are again raised in mumurs and conversation, while under the terrified glances of those ten followers that are still bound to the poles the limbs and remains of the executed are being gathered. To be literally fed to the pigs.