A conversation with a Killer. Act I Part i. (A log.)

A conversation with a Killer. Act I Part i. (A log.)

Postby Tyralor » Sun Jul 27, 2003 10:39 am

* Sill sits on the floor of the cell, her voice hoarse from yelling curses and complaints with no response. She still has her arms tied behind her and she can feel the blood from where Calandra gashed her slowly gumming up in the bonds around her wrists. She hadn't even noticed the pain until she calmed down some, and now her arm is throbbing. She sighs and lays her head against the bars of the cell, staring out into the firelit hall.

<Lt_Kilborn> It could be described as cruel and unusual punishment, leaving her hands bound behind her like that. It certainly was not their ordinary practice to do such. It must've made her morning meal a little bit interesting to swallow. Of course she'd have to wait till morning. They weren't going to rouse the Lieutenant in the middle of the night to question someone. She therefore, waited at least till morning. It might've been later though, all depended when the man got there. Calandra probably wound up better off. She didn't kick, scream, curse or rant and rave. She probably had her hands untied upon her arrival here. Finally though, for Sill, there was the sound of approaching footsteps.

* Sill doesn't bother getting up.. just the patrol by again. She prepares some particularly cutting remarks to throw at them though. Oh yes, she's spent time in cells before, and has subsequently learned just how far one can push a guard before they snap.

<Lt_Kilborn> Perhaps. The Order had been fairly well run of late. And Otis, the primary guard in this region, had snapped a number of cutting remarks back towards Sill. Maybe. It was awfully difficult to tell, since he had a ball of tobacco the size of a small orange in his mouth. She had spittle leavings from the man, stinking nearby. This patrol however, seemed a trace bit more numerous than the others, and lo and behold, about five figures made an appearance in front of her cell and stopped.

* Sill gazes up at them, the large number of them inspiring a considerable amount of concern in her. She forces a deep breath and settles a glare on them. She hadn't slept much and mourned for her friend alone in the middle of the night. Now she only has hot anger that has proven to be her undoing time and again. "About time you realize the mistake you've made." She holds back the insults, she really doesn't want to get kicked around, her back is sore enough from the night in the cold, damp cell.

* Lt_Kilborn glanced to one of the recognizable guards, namely Otis, and gestured towards the cell door. The jailkeep moved forward and with a rattle of the keys about his personage, started to work the door open. Not a single one of them seemed to react to her commentary about the 'mistake'.

* Sill scowls at them, and would have gotten to her feet but it actually proved to be particularly challenging for her all tied and such. She just ends up kicking around some dirt and sawdust and falling over with a few choice gypsy curses. Cursing in her inherited language is that area that she's most fluent in, as Calandra has no doubt kept after her about endlessly.

<Lt_Kilborn> The door was opened and two of the additional guards stepped forward, ignoring her feeble kicks for now, so that they could reach down, grasp her by the elbows and attempt to haul her to her feet. The guards outside the cell took a step backwards, giving no opportunity for Sill to try to kick out at all. Though one was heard muttering to the other..."What sort of language is that?"

* Sill might not have kicked them, but might isn't a very concrete word. Regardless, she isn't even given the opportunity and looks sharply at the man who commented on the language. "Clearly something YOU'LL never understand. Where are we going?" She winces when the guard wraps a hand around the gash on her arm, possibly breaking the blood clots and causing it to bleed freely once more, Calandra got her good with that one.

<Lt_Kilborn> Just come along for now please. Joshua Kilborn himself directed, and turned to lead the way towards a small office in another level of the building. One that obviously doubled as an interrogation room. They weren't exactly verbose at the moment and wouldn't reply to anything till they got to the office, at which point she would be ushered towards one chair, her hands finally freed, and left with three guardsmen.

<Sill> When they cut her bonds, which have been slowly soaking in her blood and sweat and are as such somewhat grungy, she can't help but give an audible gasp of pain as her shoulder muscles protest after being restrained. She sinks into the chair and looks at the wound on her arm, which has had the entire night to collect dirt and she winces. Too much dried blood, the gash definitely needs some medical attention sooner than later.

<Lt_Kilborn> "We'll have someone look at that before we put you back." Joshua stated, moving to take a seat opposite of her, on the other side of a table that separated them. Another of the guardsmen lingered at some distance behind Sill, while the last sat at a small desk, prepared to copy down everything that Sill stated.

* Sill frowns at the term 'put you back'. She forgets the injury and studies the man in front of her, her blue eyes appraising him coolly.

<Lt_Kilborn> The man opposite of her certainly seemed to have a higher rank than anyone else that she'd come across. Short brown hair, light build, despite the broad shoulders. He looked particularly at home in the uniform. "You have been charged with the Murder of Tyralor McDougal." He informed her next.

* Sill just stares at him passively, studying what he has on his desk, how neat his uniform is, and any other tidbits towards the character of this man. His accusation wounds her on the inside. Tyralor was second on the list of people she was LEAST likely to murder, Calandra coming first naturally.

<Lt_Kilborn> There wasn't anything on this particular desk. It was simply an obstacle between the two of them really. At the moment, from the written report of Private Ryan Spencer, there is little reason for us to doubt your involvement in the murder. Would you like to make a full confession? It might, prevent you from being hung.

* Sill pales at the thought of being hung, and it brings her back to full attention of the man in front of her. She had always entertained careers less than approving of the law, but nothing this serious. She is quiet for a moment, "What of the other woman you brought in?.. She's innocent. She took the dagger from me just before the guards arrived."

<Lt_Kilborn> "We will be speaking with her shortly." Was what Kilborn offered to Sill in response to her words. He settled back, with a faint hint of raised eyebrows. Normally, most people didn't try to alleviate the guilt of their companions, and from her response, he half expected her to make that full confession. Well. There were always firsts weren't there?

<Sill> "Well make sure you write that down.. " She gestures to him a bit sluggishly, her fingers tingling with the sharp pins that all feel when blood returns to extremities. As concerned as Sill was of getting herself out of this mess, she was more concerned for her cousin.

<Lt_Kilborn> "Everything that is stated here is written down." Kilborn assured her. And then folded his arms over his chest, waiting for her to go on. Apparently being somewhat patient.

* Sill sighs and sits back, kneading her hands to return the circulation more quickly. She has a sick feeling in her stomach, and wonders what the best thing to tell him is. Stalling is good. "Can I have a drink?"

<Lt_Kilborn> "Perhaps in a bit." Ah, she was trying to stall; he was trying to get her to talk. That much was obvious, considering the light smile that touched his lips for a second or two. He wasn't going to sit around all day playing games with her, that was for certain.

* Sill just frowns, her mind running through a dozen different scenario's of what she could tell him, and what she expects the outcome might be. Clearly none are good because she doesn't say anything for a long time. "You know.. my.. friend.. is much better at talking and explaining things than I am. She could explain everything much better, though there isn't really much to tell. When I got there Tyr-.. well.. he was already dead." A pang of emotion for her lost friend crosses her face.
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A conversation with a Killer. Act I Part ii. (A log.)

Postby Tyralor » Sun Jul 27, 2003 10:40 am

<Lt_Kilborn> There wasn't much of a reaction on Kilborn's part to her words. Apparently, this wasn't going to be a simple open and shut matter afterall. Inwardly he sighed. Outwardly, he remained rather stoic. "We will talk to Calandra as well. For the moment, I am interested in your version of events." He repeated, not about to let her foist all of this off on Calandra. "So he was already dead when you arrived?"

<Sill> "Yes. "

<Lt_Kilborn> "And what did you do next?"

<Sill> "Well.. he was face down when I got there, and I didn't know for sure he was.. gone, so I rolled him over to see if he was breathing." She avoids using Tyralor's name; it's much easier that way. Then she can pretend it was someone else.

<Lt_Kilborn> A slow nod from the Lieutenant. Patience for the moment as he continued to listen to her story.

* Sill pulls her knees up to her face, curled up on the chair, thoroughly uncomfortable. She gives him a pleading look that says 'please just let me leave!’ "Well.. he wasn't breathing.. so.. I checked to see if he had anything on him that might help me figure out who he was because he was.. burnt."

* Lt_Kilborn nods once more, and waits for her to continue, his expression remaining impassive. He was, pretty much, going to listen to her full tale, before he goes back over certain points of it.

<Sill> "That's when Calandra arrived, and she recognized who it was.. and screamed.. Then the guards came."

<Lt_Kilborn> "I see. Is that everything that happened?" He may as well question that much, see if she wants to elaborate on the story any further at all.

* Sill can faintly hear the rain outside. Such a gloomy day. She nods to his question while her eyes roam over the rather bland room once more. No way out of here to be certain, her mind thinking of just what it would be like to be hung.. truly horrible.

<Lt_Kilborn> "So it is your position that neither you, nor your companions killed the man that was found in the woods. Tyralor McDougal."

<Sill> "No.. he was a good friend of mine, and Calandra... companions? It was just the two of us." She frowns at him and her eyes narrow in suspicion.

<Lt_Kilborn> "You swear that it was just the two of you?" He questioned, with a slightly raised eyebrow, perhaps not too surprised that she picked up on that little detail.

<Sill> "Yes.. Just me and her. Who said there were more? That fool guard?" She is a little agitated now.

<Lt_Kilborn> He didn't answer her immediately, instead rising up and moving towards the doorway to speak to someone outside. Ah. Apparently he was ordering tea, if Sill overheard the mutter correctly. She was going to get her drink afterall. He came back to the table. "You said that you rolled the body over, and only then discovered that he was dead, correct?"

* Sill hears mention of the drink, and her mind wails - Why must everyone in this accursed region drink tea?! -. She sighs inwardly and closes her eyes for a moment. "Yes! That's what I said.. Listen.. we didn't kill him! You should spend your time finding whoever DID do it because he was a very close friend of mine and Cal's and if you knew anything in that thick head of yours you'd know that we would be the last people to do it!"

<Lt_Kilborn> A slight shift of his form, and his arms folded over his chest while he regarded the filthy woman for a moment or two. "You'd be amazed, the number of wives or husbands, who say that after we bring them in for murdering their spouse. You did specify that Tyralor was known to you. In what fashion?"

<Sill> "I just said he was a close friend.. are you even listening?!" She digs her nails from her left hand into the chair, the other too sore from the injury. Her blues eyes glare at the man from a thin face surrounded by the dozens of braids she keeps her hair up in each day. A bit frizzled now.

<Lt_Kilborn> "I see." He repeated once more, before shifting back to the topic of conversation before she'd gotten a bit irritable. "You said that you rolled the body over, and only then discovered that he was dead. How did you determine he was dead?"

<Sill> Finally, the man was hearing her. "He wasn't breathing.. When I went to feel a heartbeat I felt the blood on his chest and realized he had been stabbed. "

<Lt_Kilborn> "And you did not recognize your close friend because of the partial burns to his facial features, correct?"

<Sill> "It was dark.. and I guess I wasn't expecting it to be anyone I knew. I don't know many people around here."

<Lt_Kilborn> A slow nod in response to that statement. it was viable enough at least, all things considered. Assuming the rest of her tale was true at any rate. "You were removing articles from his belonging in order to identify him you stated earlier. Exactly why would you feel as though you needed to remove the articles to help identify the body?"

<Lt_Kilborn> "Wouldn't a glance or two have sufficed?"

* Sill frowns.. the odds are if she hadn't been discovered she would have walked off with the valuables. Time for a few excuses now, "I guess I figured maybe there was a name on a document.. or maybe some inscription on a piece of jewelry. It was very dark and I didn't have any light, so it was much easier to look at things closely if they were removed."

<Lt_Kilborn> "So that, was why a coin purse, a wedding ring, and an expensive broach were removed, according to you?"

* Sill runs a hand back through her hair, damn the air was muggy with all this rain. "The broach looked familiar, I thought I had seen it elsewhere, and clearly I had because it was .. Tyralor's. "

<Lt_Kilborn> "Of course. Have you been in Myrken town overly long?" He questioned, for a half moment allowing an amiable smile to form on his lips

<Sill> "No.. not really.. I used to live here a few years ago. Things have changed a lot. " The change of subjects puts her off guard. He certainly enjoys jumping topics. And why is he smiling?? Her suspicion grows again.

<Lt_Kilborn> "So, you wouldn't happen to know a great many people in the area anymore?" He questioned with a raising of his eyebrow.

<Sill> "No." She snaps, sick of repeating herself. "This is going to take a long time if I have to go over everything twice."

<Lt_Kilborn> "I see. So, even if there was an inscription or something of note inside the man's pouch, there would've been almost no way for you to actually use that to identify the man." He stated. She'd basically led him to this conclusion with her answers.

* Sill blinks. Stares. A long moment of silence. ".. What's your name?" She asks coolly.
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A conversation with a Killer. Act I, Part iii. (A log.)

Postby Tyralor » Sun Jul 27, 2003 10:43 am

<Lt_Kilborn> "Note Sill's response. Or in this case, lack thereof to the question posed." He directed to the individual that was keeping notes on the events, before he turned back to Sill, and smiled quietly. "I am Lieutenant Kilborn. My apologies for not introducing myself earlier."

<Sill> "How long have YOU lived here?" She demands.

<Lt_Kilborn> "I've lived in Myrken Wood all my life." He replied passively. A slight shift in his seat for a second, and posing another question to her before she managed to have another outburst. "You said that Calandra took the knife from you just before the guards showed up. You never specified, why you had a knife drawn."

<Lt_Kilborn> "It wouldn't have been because you stabbed someone just a moment before by chance?" A flicker of a grin, like she'd ever admit to that!

<Sill> "I heard people approaching, and since the last time I was here in the region there WAS no active guard, I drew the blade in defense for the worst. " She's not smiling, and the assumptions he's leaping to are less than reassuring. "Not everyone a person meets in the woods are friendly.. obviously. I dropped the knife because that was when Cal recognized who it was.. She picked it up."

<Lt_Kilborn> "Then Calandra picked it up, and the guard made their arrival. At which point you came along without resistance to rebuke this mistake?"

<Sill> "... I don't like guards. And I don't like being held for no reason." She says through clenched teeth, anger rising to fuel her otherwise exhausted and mourning self.

<Lt_Kilborn> "Your dislike of guards is noted. You don't refute that statement though?" He questioned, as the tea finally made its arrival. Apparently it'd taken some time to prepare and bring to this section of the region. At least it was accompanied by a bit of milk and some honey was obviously available too

* Sill gets tangled up in his questions that are worded no doubt with intentional confusion. She chews over exactly what he's asking her as the tea arrives, waiting for him to take care of his drink before speaking again.

<Lt_Kilborn> Two cups are evident, and he takes one of them immediately. It does look a little bit more worn than the other on the tray does, but it also seems to be his cup, so it probably makes sense. His tea stirred calmly and carefully, with just a bit of milk added, while he waited on her.

<Lt_Kilborn> "Do you want me to repeat the question?"

* Sill speaks carefully, "Calandra had the dagger, but because I had dropped it. The guards showed up and started yelling without even giving us a chance to explain. I was.. panicked.. so I might have resisted, a slight bit. "

<Lt_Kilborn> "So you ran away, and punched a guard in the face when he tried to capture you?" He queried amiably enough, apparently just making certain that they both understood her slight bit of resistance.

* Sill scratches the back of her neck, looking down at the floor. "Not necessarily. I did say it was very dark."

<Lt_Kilborn> "So how was it then Sill, that the dagger itself became bloody? From what you've told me, you took out the dagger to ward off the approach of the guards. Then dropped it because Calandra screamed. And then Calandra picked up the dagger afterwards, when the guards actually emerged from the forest."

* Sill rises, sick of sitting. Her legs were falling asleep and she's more relaxed when she doesn't feel cornered in a chair. "I tried to take it back from her and she accidentally cut me with it." She gestures to the deep gash in her arm. Not a pretty sight.

<Sill> How did he know her name.. Someone must have told him. Still, she didn't like him knowing it.

<Lt_Kilborn> "Please remain seated Sill. We wouldn't want anyone in the room to think that you're considering something rash." He muttered quietly, suggestively. It was a pleasant tone of voice that didn't order, or baby her. Must've perfected it. "And just to confirm, it was just the two of you, right?"

<Sill> There he was using her name again, it rankled her. She might have considered the logic behind sitting down again but there he went pressing her nerves with having her repeat herself. "Yes! Just the two of us! Why are you writing anything down if you're going to ask me over and over again?!" Her fists clench in her frustration.

* Lt_Kilborn nods slightly. ""And you didn't see who might have actually killed Tyralor. Just found his body?"

<Sill> "Just the body.." She chokes on her words, her grip on her emotions slipping quickly now. She keeps her fists clenched despite the pain shooting through her right arm. Better not to let him see her hands shaking.

<Lt_Kilborn> "There's just one thing," He stated, though there were two really. Two men had attacked his guards. And Sill had stated clearly three times, that it had just been Calandra and herself. So something wasn't adding up. "You said you drew the dagger to ward off the guards that were approaching, since you weren't certain if they would be friendly or not. Then Calandra screamed."

<Lt_Kilborn> "I don't suppose you would care to hazard a guess, as to how the guards knew there was a body, and where it was, before Calandra screamed? "

<Sill> "I.. How should I know?! Maybe they saw the light in the woods too? They weren't exactly the kind of guards that inspire confidence. Arriving on the scene and barking orders about before anyone knows what's going on!" She paces the small room, needing to move, the urge to be gone from here growing more and more.

* Lt_Kilborn nodded once and then shrugged a bit. There wasn't anything else that he could really ask her until he'd had a chance to talk to the other woman. "That'll be all for now. Sergeant Rubrecht, return her to her cell for now please." He directed the man that'd been standing behind Sill.

* Sill had fairly forgotten about the other two guards in the room and looks at them with a wary eye. Kilborn never even offered her a drink. She turns on him again "That's it?!"

<Lt_Kilborn> "For the moment, yes." The tea had been put on the table, apparently that had been the invitation. He sipped his cooling cup at this particular point, watching Sill carefully.

* Sill eyes him carefully, wondering exactly what he thinks. He's so relaxed, and she's completely unnerved by it. She frowns.. "I told you Calandra was only there for a few minutes before the guards showed up.. "

<Lt_Kilborn> "And you discovered the body a few minutes before she made her arrival. I don't suppose you would mind answering, how it is that you found the body? Just randomly wandered into the little clearing?"

<Sill> "I saw a light.. at first I thought it was a fire.."

<Lt_Kilborn> "That's it?"

* Sill shrugs, not realizing how vague her answers are. "I was curious.."

<Lt_Kilborn> He just regarded her silently for a number of minutes. He could further question her on a few subjects perhaps. The fact she saw a light was probably the lamest thing she could've said. At least in his opinion. On the other hand, maybe she'd change her story later. A second nod to Rubrecht, to get him to step forwards and settle a hand on Sill's shoulder. "Make certain the wound is bandaged and she gets some tea. Then put her back in her cell." Were Kilborn's instructions, as he rose and nodded to the scribe to accompany him in departing

* Sill might have argued some things further but the thought of getting the blood washed away and the injury attended to sounded too promising. The dry blood was starting to itch and the cut throbbed still. The tea.. Well, she wouldn't accept that. Maybe the milk.

~Finis?
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