02-08-2012, 05:20 PM
A Note before I begin this tale:
This will be the story of Drako Black. Please note that this character is ICly dead as far as CotH is concerned, but I feel it appropriate to tell his story to also tell the story of his organization, Black's Drakes. If there is any contact with Lore figures, it is non-credible completely, etc etc.
Now then, I shall begin this tale.
"Traitor!" The People screamed. The Streets of Lordaeron City were lined with peasantry come out to insult and accuse the passing criminal, a man atop a cart, his arms hanging up by ropes to posts on either side of the cart. His head was bent forward, shadowing his face from the crowd, and he seemed to be nearly lifeless as it was then. Two guards led the horse that drew the cart forward through the streets, the only security the criminal had.
"He betrayed the Crown! How does he deserve a fair trial?!" Came another voice.
The criminal's neck bent and went straight, bringing the man's face into view of the crowd, as he looked around eerily at the peasantry. His glare was one of both defiance and surrender. His tattered clothes flapped with a sudden wind, torn and dirty. The man looked out among the peasantry, keeping silent as he was insulted, and rotten food was thrown at him as he passed.
Slowly the cart drew forward, out of the streets, to a courtyard. This courtyard was rectangular in design, and its sides were lined with stairs and balconies, while in the center stood a tall statue ringed by columns. The cart rolled forward to the top of a set of stairs, falling down to a platform, and then branching left and right. To the right stretched a path leading towards the main gate of the City, and to the left stretched a path leading towards the Keep. The criminal's two guards raised themselves to the top of the cart, and untied the man, letting him fall to the floor of it, weakened.
One guard kicked him on his rear. "Get up." He said.
The criminal grunted, and slid forward from the kick. He weakly turned and stared into the eyes of the guard there. The guard's leg reared back to strike him again, but was halted by the criminal's words; "Hold on... Let me get up on my own..."
The Guard grunted, and stood there, arms crossed, and unamused. The Criminal put his scarred hands down to the ground, and pushed himself up, his knee's shaking from the stress, and he groaned as he slowly got himself to a stand.
The second guard walked forward with a small line of rope, and tied the criminal's wrists together. He leaned in farther. "We can make it to the gate if we try to run for it now, Drako." Came the Guard's whispering voice.
Drako grunted, and backed away, receiving a gauntlet to the shoulder from the first guard. A groan of pain escaped his lips as he fell to his knees. "Get back up, criminal scum." Came his voice.
Drako grumbled incoherent sentences, perhaps prayers, as he weakly pushed himself back up to his feet. His hands were then fully bound, and he was led off of the cart. He was led down the stairs, and to the left.
"The Magistrate's Court... A wonderful place for my end..." Drako said in a low tone.
"Do not betray the Crown next time..." The first guard answered to his mumble. "Of course, there won't be a next time, hmm?" He began laughing.
Slowly the three, criminal, and guards, made their way to the drawbridge stretching across a small canal. Three gates stood before them at the other side of the canal; One large one, in the center, and two smaller ones to the sides.
"That's the King's Court, criminal scum." The first guard said, pointing through at the center gate. "Only the best go before him." He tugged Drako to his right, towards the smaller right gate. "You, however, aren't going before the King. You were stripped of that honor quite a while ago."
Drako grunted weakly, and followed willingly, showing no sign of restraint as he approached his apparent doom. Through the right gate they passed, and into a wide hallway with statues decorating nooks in the wall of the room. Public commotion, and ambassadors debating came from the long hallway nearby, across from where the center gate entered. That, however, was to Drako's left. To his right was a smaller door in the wall, simple and decorated with elaborate carvings.
Through this door the three went, and it opened into a solemnly lit hallway that stretched in front of them for much distance. On each side of the wall as the hallway went down were doors, equally spaced apart as court doors. Guards stood next to each door, and nobles walked to and fro. Drako was led towards one of these courts, quite a distance within the hallway. The door was opened, and a large rectangular room revealed. It was well lit by open windows in the ceiling, the sun shining in at noon's time. At the other end of the room, upon a tall seat, sat a man in elegant, black robes. Before him, on a tall desk, were parchments and a candle.
Before the man's tall desk were rows upon rows of benches, facing the front of the court, but leaving space in front of the desk, assumed for the accused individuals to stand in. Men and women of various ages and classes sat in the benches, and it was apparent that half of them weren't even interested in what was happening, but were there for their own entertainment.
Drako was led to the open space before the desk, and he stood in weakness, looking up at the elegantly robed man. "You will kneel before the Magistrate." The first guard said, kicking Drako's leg and sending him, with a grunt, to his knees.
The Magistrate perked a brow, the dark brown hairs upon his head following the movement. He reached forward for a parchment upon his desk, and began to read it over again. It was obvious by his darting eyes that he had already read this. Voices sprung up and suddenly the Court erupted with talking and shouting.
"Order!" The Magistrate shouted, laying the parchment down. The Court fell silent. He sighed, shaking his head slowly and looking out at Drako. "Drako Black... Captain of the Lordaeronian Army, and supposedly faithful servant of our glorious Kingdom."
"You have been charged with both intentional harm of a comrade, and insubordination, and your sentencing is to be carried out at the end of this hearing. How do you plead, Captain?" The Magistrate said as he leaned back in his high chair, folding his hands over his chest.
"I did what I thought was right, Magistrate." Drako answered, standing at his full height of nearly seven feet, towering over the two guards at his side. In this moment something was revealed in him, a hidden strength that made many within the court see a strong and fearless soldier behind the dirt and tattered clothing.
"I did not ask what you thought of your sentencing, Captain. I asked, how do you plead?" The Magistrate said once more, leaning forward.
"May the Light be my heavenly witness as I plead guilty, Magistrate." Drako answered, looking him in the eyes.
The Magistrate nodded slowly. "You betrayed the Crown of Lordaeron, for which you swore a solemn oath to protect, and have therefore insulted Lordaeron as a Kingdom. You disgrace it by speaking its name. You defile it by walking its streets." He stopped, and sighed, then continued. "However, your sentencing will not be the headsman's axe, or the noose."
The Magistrate looked down at his hands, and then back up at Drako, who stood there, silent and watchful. "You are to be banished, forthwith, from the Kingdom of Lordaeron, may you never walk into its lands again unless in time of War to aid its crown, and perhaps regain your honor, for let the Light be your witness in this."
He looked down at the parchment upon his desk. "Begone now, Drako Black, and never again return here, or your sentence may yet be worse." He finished, before staring out at the crowd within the court's benches. "This court is adjourned."
Drako Black, Captain of Lordaeron, was turned around by his escorting guards, and led from the court. Out the way they had come he went, through the doors, and back into the courtyard. The guards led him to the gates of the City, where an aged man sat, his back against a stone archway. Drako's gaze fell upon the man, and his face turned from stern to grave.
"Forgive me, father..." Drako said, loud enough for this aged man to hear.
"I cannot forgive you for these crimes, my son... Not today." The man answered, and looked down towards the ground, away from his son's eyes.
Drako's dark brown eyes shone with the only sadness he could ever feel, his neck bending as he stared down at the ground, his feet beginning to scruff against the paved path to the gate. Through many stone hallways and under many carved archways the three men went. Out of a large, wooden gate they traveled, and Drako Black looked back at the City he had served for so long only once, before looking forward at the solemn forests that stretched for miles in front of him, on either side of a paved road.
This will be the story of Drako Black. Please note that this character is ICly dead as far as CotH is concerned, but I feel it appropriate to tell his story to also tell the story of his organization, Black's Drakes. If there is any contact with Lore figures, it is non-credible completely, etc etc.
Now then, I shall begin this tale.
"Traitor!" The People screamed. The Streets of Lordaeron City were lined with peasantry come out to insult and accuse the passing criminal, a man atop a cart, his arms hanging up by ropes to posts on either side of the cart. His head was bent forward, shadowing his face from the crowd, and he seemed to be nearly lifeless as it was then. Two guards led the horse that drew the cart forward through the streets, the only security the criminal had.
"He betrayed the Crown! How does he deserve a fair trial?!" Came another voice.
The criminal's neck bent and went straight, bringing the man's face into view of the crowd, as he looked around eerily at the peasantry. His glare was one of both defiance and surrender. His tattered clothes flapped with a sudden wind, torn and dirty. The man looked out among the peasantry, keeping silent as he was insulted, and rotten food was thrown at him as he passed.
Slowly the cart drew forward, out of the streets, to a courtyard. This courtyard was rectangular in design, and its sides were lined with stairs and balconies, while in the center stood a tall statue ringed by columns. The cart rolled forward to the top of a set of stairs, falling down to a platform, and then branching left and right. To the right stretched a path leading towards the main gate of the City, and to the left stretched a path leading towards the Keep. The criminal's two guards raised themselves to the top of the cart, and untied the man, letting him fall to the floor of it, weakened.
One guard kicked him on his rear. "Get up." He said.
The criminal grunted, and slid forward from the kick. He weakly turned and stared into the eyes of the guard there. The guard's leg reared back to strike him again, but was halted by the criminal's words; "Hold on... Let me get up on my own..."
The Guard grunted, and stood there, arms crossed, and unamused. The Criminal put his scarred hands down to the ground, and pushed himself up, his knee's shaking from the stress, and he groaned as he slowly got himself to a stand.
The second guard walked forward with a small line of rope, and tied the criminal's wrists together. He leaned in farther. "We can make it to the gate if we try to run for it now, Drako." Came the Guard's whispering voice.
Drako grunted, and backed away, receiving a gauntlet to the shoulder from the first guard. A groan of pain escaped his lips as he fell to his knees. "Get back up, criminal scum." Came his voice.
Drako grumbled incoherent sentences, perhaps prayers, as he weakly pushed himself back up to his feet. His hands were then fully bound, and he was led off of the cart. He was led down the stairs, and to the left.
"The Magistrate's Court... A wonderful place for my end..." Drako said in a low tone.
"Do not betray the Crown next time..." The first guard answered to his mumble. "Of course, there won't be a next time, hmm?" He began laughing.
Slowly the three, criminal, and guards, made their way to the drawbridge stretching across a small canal. Three gates stood before them at the other side of the canal; One large one, in the center, and two smaller ones to the sides.
"That's the King's Court, criminal scum." The first guard said, pointing through at the center gate. "Only the best go before him." He tugged Drako to his right, towards the smaller right gate. "You, however, aren't going before the King. You were stripped of that honor quite a while ago."
Drako grunted weakly, and followed willingly, showing no sign of restraint as he approached his apparent doom. Through the right gate they passed, and into a wide hallway with statues decorating nooks in the wall of the room. Public commotion, and ambassadors debating came from the long hallway nearby, across from where the center gate entered. That, however, was to Drako's left. To his right was a smaller door in the wall, simple and decorated with elaborate carvings.
Through this door the three went, and it opened into a solemnly lit hallway that stretched in front of them for much distance. On each side of the wall as the hallway went down were doors, equally spaced apart as court doors. Guards stood next to each door, and nobles walked to and fro. Drako was led towards one of these courts, quite a distance within the hallway. The door was opened, and a large rectangular room revealed. It was well lit by open windows in the ceiling, the sun shining in at noon's time. At the other end of the room, upon a tall seat, sat a man in elegant, black robes. Before him, on a tall desk, were parchments and a candle.
Before the man's tall desk were rows upon rows of benches, facing the front of the court, but leaving space in front of the desk, assumed for the accused individuals to stand in. Men and women of various ages and classes sat in the benches, and it was apparent that half of them weren't even interested in what was happening, but were there for their own entertainment.
Drako was led to the open space before the desk, and he stood in weakness, looking up at the elegantly robed man. "You will kneel before the Magistrate." The first guard said, kicking Drako's leg and sending him, with a grunt, to his knees.
The Magistrate perked a brow, the dark brown hairs upon his head following the movement. He reached forward for a parchment upon his desk, and began to read it over again. It was obvious by his darting eyes that he had already read this. Voices sprung up and suddenly the Court erupted with talking and shouting.
"Order!" The Magistrate shouted, laying the parchment down. The Court fell silent. He sighed, shaking his head slowly and looking out at Drako. "Drako Black... Captain of the Lordaeronian Army, and supposedly faithful servant of our glorious Kingdom."
"You have been charged with both intentional harm of a comrade, and insubordination, and your sentencing is to be carried out at the end of this hearing. How do you plead, Captain?" The Magistrate said as he leaned back in his high chair, folding his hands over his chest.
"I did what I thought was right, Magistrate." Drako answered, standing at his full height of nearly seven feet, towering over the two guards at his side. In this moment something was revealed in him, a hidden strength that made many within the court see a strong and fearless soldier behind the dirt and tattered clothing.
"I did not ask what you thought of your sentencing, Captain. I asked, how do you plead?" The Magistrate said once more, leaning forward.
"May the Light be my heavenly witness as I plead guilty, Magistrate." Drako answered, looking him in the eyes.
The Magistrate nodded slowly. "You betrayed the Crown of Lordaeron, for which you swore a solemn oath to protect, and have therefore insulted Lordaeron as a Kingdom. You disgrace it by speaking its name. You defile it by walking its streets." He stopped, and sighed, then continued. "However, your sentencing will not be the headsman's axe, or the noose."
The Magistrate looked down at his hands, and then back up at Drako, who stood there, silent and watchful. "You are to be banished, forthwith, from the Kingdom of Lordaeron, may you never walk into its lands again unless in time of War to aid its crown, and perhaps regain your honor, for let the Light be your witness in this."
He looked down at the parchment upon his desk. "Begone now, Drako Black, and never again return here, or your sentence may yet be worse." He finished, before staring out at the crowd within the court's benches. "This court is adjourned."
Drako Black, Captain of Lordaeron, was turned around by his escorting guards, and led from the court. Out the way they had come he went, through the doors, and back into the courtyard. The guards led him to the gates of the City, where an aged man sat, his back against a stone archway. Drako's gaze fell upon the man, and his face turned from stern to grave.
"Forgive me, father..." Drako said, loud enough for this aged man to hear.
"I cannot forgive you for these crimes, my son... Not today." The man answered, and looked down towards the ground, away from his son's eyes.
Drako's dark brown eyes shone with the only sadness he could ever feel, his neck bending as he stared down at the ground, his feet beginning to scruff against the paved path to the gate. Through many stone hallways and under many carved archways the three men went. Out of a large, wooden gate they traveled, and Drako Black looked back at the City he had served for so long only once, before looking forward at the solemn forests that stretched for miles in front of him, on either side of a paved road.