[center][b][u]Lrev Port[/u][/b]
[b]Present Day[/b][/center]
[center]----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/center]
    
    	Lrev was a bustling port filled with dozens upon dozens of vessels, from small sleek fishing boats to large Charlinite war boats. The air was moist and smelt thickly of a salty musk, as the recent storm left in it's wake. The hot sea side sun managed to peer out of the remaining grey clouds and lit up the exquisitely decorated port, the largest in Charlin. Lrev was also certainly the most secured, as paladin dressed authorities crowded the soft wooden docks and grey stone bayside taverns, their vigilant presence seemingly noticing every motion in Lrev's docks.
        
    	The sounds of gulls and creaking planks against strong waves mixed with the cacophony of shouts, mutters, and the paladin authorities requesting different tasks and papers from docking ships and sailors. Security was tight, and Stephen knew it would be. Charlin was under a plague quarantine, a quarantine the paladins would clearly uphold to the fullest extent. 
        
	"Papers," An approaching port authority requested as Stephen descended from his ship's gangplank. The authority wore the flashy armor of the paladins, as well as the cape, but stood over Stephan without the usual helmet seen on paladins, but rather a smile and authoritative blue eyes, eager to get this over with.   
        
	Stephan rubbed the white stubble that had grown on his chin and returned the smile as best he could.	Reaching into his worn coats inner pocket he pulled out a small book and some papers.  When the port authority closed the distance Stephan handed him the documents and joked, “Logs and manifest are there, though I wager we may have entered your port with a few hundred pounds more seawater than intended.” 

	On the outside Stephan was doing his best impression of a tired captain glad to reach port but any deeper than the surface and he was on the edge.  Lrev was rumoured to be the tightest port in the east and so far the security proved those rumours every inch true.  While the port authority may not have commented he wagered there were already a dozen eyes on the [i]Empty Horizons.[/i]  Holes didn't just appear in ships and the blast of a navy shell was as identifiable as it was destructive.  No doubt some higher authority had already been contacted.  In fact, given his recent luck Stephan didn't even doubt Justinian himself was that authority and just happened to be visiting the port.

	The port authority slapped the book of forged logs shut with a quick clap and looked back at Stephen with skeptical eyes. 

	"Salt merchant," the authority stated more than questioned as he looked over the wrecked sides of the [i]Empty Horizons[/i].
    
	"What's all the holes about," He continued, pointing at the clear gaps created by cannon shot. Behind the authority Stephan could make out a few more figures making their way up the docks, probably not to congratulate him on a successful salt delivery.
    
	That had gone about as well as he thought it would.  Stephan gave a nervous cough and 'explained', “Ah, we were beset upon by pirates on our journey you see.  We managed to fight back of course but I fear the damage was severe.  As we took on water we were forced to dump our cargo to make it here.”  To be fair it wasn't the worst lie ever told, to be honest it was close enough that Stephan barely suppressed a groan at his own stupidity.  After a long time at sea a sailors senses were never excellent when they first hit land, Stephan feared that when added to the stress of the situation he had completely lost them.
    
	The paladin seemed to exhale slightly as he digested the story, causing Stephan to lean in closer with anticipation. After a brief silence the authority flashed his smile and spoke simply, " Gregory."
    
	"Come again," Stephan questioned.
    
	"Gregory."
    
	"I don't follow."
    
	"Says here," The paladin tapped the logs with his index finger, and an annoyed twist corrupted his smile, "Your name is Gregory, clearly not."

	Stephan didn't have much to say to that, coming to terms with the situation he uttered a simple few words, "Well Fuck."

	"Definitely," the paladin said, "You, your crew, and your ship are under arrest."
    
	With his simple commands, the approaching figures from behind the authority rushed past the pair and up the gangplank, cuffs in hand, and their heavy boots stomping on the moist planks. The authority in front of Stephan simply motioned for his hands, "Come Gregory." 
    
	Stephan wasn't stupid enough to resist, if he submitted he and Ricken might live at the least.  He held out his hands and stated, “There is a boy of only a year and some on the ship, please ensure his care.”  After that Stephan decided he would stay quiet, the less these Justinians knew the better Ricken, and everyone else on the ship would be.
    
	With a silent nod and two clicks of iron cuffs, Stephan was taken away.
    
    
[center][b][u]Lrev Prisons[/u][/b]
[b]Two Days Later[/b]
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 	Stephan waited silently in his cell, after two days of darkness he had begun to wonder if they would ever  come for him.  Every few hours a cell somewhere on the block had been opened and a man taken out, yet every time the gentle light of a lantern came into sight briefly illuminating the grey stone and rusted iron he was skipped.  What they had been doing to the others he didn't know.  In truth he cared little for them beyond those that had been his confidants all those months ago and Ricken.  Ricken, his thoughts always came back to the boy, what heinous things would happen to him if his identity was discovered?  Stephan shuddered to think.
 
 	Finally the lanterns light stopped in front of his cell. It was held by a burly man with a protruding gut, someone clearly comfortable at the dinner table. He was dressed in the tabard of a jailer with nothing very outstanding about him.
     
 	"Stephen," The fat man burped, "on your feet and face away from the door."
    
 	After a few quick protocols Stephan was walking down the corridor, his hands cuffed safely behind his back, and shackles on his ankles, slowing him to a clammering rustle. After what seemed like the longest walk, including tired knees popping from underuse the past few days, and sore feet, the pair had arrived at the interrogation chamber.
     
 	The brightly lit area burned the eyes of Stephan as he was lead to a particularly uncomfortable wooden chair. The rest if the room was plain cobblestone, and nothing spectacular other than the beaten table in front of the chair, and a heavy iron door opposite of the way the two entered.
     
 	Another man was in the room. Surprisingly enough the man was clearly not a paladin, or affiliated with them in any noticeable way. He was outrageously tall like most Charlinites, had long grizzled black hair and a matching beard that covered a salty sea weary face of an older man, but more importantly he wore the garments of an officer, a civil servant of the Boyars. 
     
 	With a silent gesture the fat man took post by the way he entered and the officer took a seat across from stephan, the scuffing legs of the chair echoing in the lonely stone room.
     
 	"So," The officer began, his voice was crispy and as salty as the docks, "You aren't a salt merchant, and you are not Captain Gregory Hermelli."
     
 	"Now that we have that out of the way, would you mind telling me why you felt the need to lie and scheme on the honorable harbours of Lrev?"
     
 	Stephan couldn't help but smile, even in spite of his circumstances.  Two days and they were starting at the basics?  No they knew his name, they knew the story.  Perhaps it was not the whole of it but Stephan had better sense than to trust the entire crew of a ship he had taken by force.  With a smile he leaned into the table and stated, “Lie?  True enough I have lied, but scheme?  I assure you not a single scheme of mine involved your 'honourable harbours'.”  
     
 	He stretched as best he could in the seat, it was a relief after so long chained in that cell, before he continued, “As for why I lied, you know some of the truth no doubt, but I'd wager you want the whole of it.  I might tell you some, but first tell me of the boy, is he safe?”  In truth Stephan had no intention of telling them who Ricken was, but he was willing to tell them anything but just to know what fate had befallen the nephew he had toiled so long to keep safe.
     
 	"He is a child of Charlin until we can figure this out, he is safe," the older officer assured Stephan.
     
 	"Now it has come to my attention that you are foreign to our customs, even so foreign that you come from the Dominion. So I will have you know that not one of your crew, including you, is in danger of losing their life at this time,"The man stared at Stephan.
     
 	"That being said, the quicker we get this over with, the quicker we all get back to our lives, eh?"
     
	Stephan felt relieved, but not terribly assured.  Regardless, he had no way to refute their claim and now his end of the bargain was up, “Perhaps so.  I’ll tell some as I promised.  True, we are from the Dominion, and as you may have guessed the navy in particular.  As for the damage to our ship, after abandoning the Dominion for our own reasons we were hunted and attacked in the northeastern sea.  That’s all I’ll say for now. You’re Justinians and you know what I am.  I won’t pretend to like you and I won’t pretend to trust you, I never did fight the Paladins in Somnus but I know those who did.  If you want anything more than that I will need a lot more than you’ve given me.”  He was done with the lies and the pleasantries, he would tell the truth, but not all of it.  Stephan wasn’t that stupid, and he wasn’t that desperate.
     
 	The older man folded his hands and leaned on his elbows against the table as he digested this. With a raised brow he casually spoke, "Here is the deal: you are in Charlin, and you broke the law. You are also defecting from the Dominion, so you broke their laws as well. As of now you are looking at jail time and hard labor for false entry into Lrev ports and breaking quarantine, including the possibility of political disruption."
     
 	"However," The man continued, "You have the right to bring this to a hard-ass judge to figure out your punishment, or you can work with me, I pull the same strings as a judge. If you are a victim of Dominion cruelty and wish sanction in Charlin, you just needed to ask, but you didn't. You tried to pull the wool over our eyes, so whatever happens, you will have to pay for transgressions, but depending on what you can offer me, and trust me everything helps, will decide how harsh or comfortable your fine will be. If you happen to be locked up for some time, you won't be able to look after that sweet child, now would you?"
     
 	The man lifted his head and put his hands flat on the table, "Just remember, you decide what happens to your crew and child. So tell me, what's going on?"
     
 	Stephan had known it was going to come to this.  After all, they held all the cards here.  If he kept his mouth shut how long would it be before one of his co-conspirators spoke?  For every bit of courage those already unreliable few had there was an equal amount of fear, and fear was what broke men.  It was always going to come to this, hand all the secrets he had over to a damn Justinian or rot in a cell while they indoctrinated the boy.

	Fine, if he was cursed he might as well give in, fighting it had only seemed to make things worse so far.  Stephan glared at the man across from him, “Fine, no point in holding back now is there?  I am Stephan  Unsian, the boy is Ricken Serin.”  The questioning look on the interrogators face at that was worth tell him all of it, Stephan explained, “Our floor licking king of the Dominion lacks an heir you see, and he won't take a wife from shame of his... Condition, if you understand me.  How surprising then, that my sister, one of his little secret concubines, bore him a child.  Of course it wouldn't do to marry so low, would it?  No Tetan fucking Serin, [i]beloved[/i] by his people, did the kingly thing,.  He had her killed and he kept the child.” Spite and anger dripped off every syllable, just putting it into words hurt.

“So.” Stephan continued, “I took the thing he wanted from him, I took my nephew and then I took my ship.  Even took his fucking little ring.” Stephan held the black and shiny yet featureless band up from the chain on his neck.  He gave a solemn chuckle at the situation,  what a joke it was to think he ever had control, “I suppose the question now is simple, what will you do?”

	The officer closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, features of thought strained his temples. This was certainly no light matter, and must be handled delicately. The man let out a long sigh before opening his eyes, "Does your crew know?"
    
	Stephan looked down and spoke, “Some, they helped me do it.  Garus, Tempan, Gerof, and Perrance.  All four know and the only reason I even told you was to spare them the shame of doing it, can't say they're brave but they were stupid enough to follow me I suppose.
    
	"Honorable," the officer muttered. With a quick glance at the fat man who stood silent this entire time the officer spoke loudly, "See to it that those four are secure, and send the rest to the judges for crimes of tampering with the law and quarantine, and preferably deport them to someplace far away from here."
    
	"Aye, sir."
    
	"Now," The government servant looked back at Stephan, "Your crew will pay for their transgressions. As for you and your co-conspirators, I think it is in the best interest of the Boyars to keep this quiet."
    
	The Charlinite paused in thought, "are you truly an honorable man, or are you planning to bite the hand that may as well end up feeding you."
    
    Stephan didn't really care about the rest.  He figured it was best they were gone before one decided to tell a tale involving a dissenter, a rope, and the bottom of the ocean.  Regardless they meant to keep it quiet, and for the moment that was all Stephan wanted. Looking up to the man he simply stated, “I suppose it has always depended on the food.”
    
	The man grunted, almost letting a smirk betray his stone set face. With one quick motion the man shot out of his chair and cracked his back.
    
	"Well," The old man said, "You are now under my custody along with your conspirators, I am Lrev justice Benoroux Longview Unchix, and the only person keeping you five alive, and your nephew from a long trip to the Patrimony."
    
	"Lucky for you," Benoroux said, "we already knew who you were, or I'm afraid I would have suspected you for a typical liar trying to snake his way out of penalty."
    
He looked down at Stephan, "We are going to tell your story to the Boyar, all of us, but until then I am moving you to my personal housings to keep you. Don't be fooled, it is still a jail, but a lot more comfortable, a place for honorable prisoners of war."
    
	"I'd rather not present a starving chicken to the Boyar, so take me as compassionate," A big yellow and white speckled smile broke across his old face.
    
	Stephan almost laughed at that, but the situation had sapped him of what little humour had had been able to muster of late.  He didn't trust Justinians, but perhaps this one wasn't so bad as he feared.  He let out soft few words, “Thank you.”


[center][b][u]Boyar of Lrev, Dernov Silverwave Unchix's Residence[/u][/b]
[b]One Day Later[/b]
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	On top of a mound of soft green grass stood a tall manor of stone and hard woods. In the distance the sound of gulls screaming and waves crashing filled the air, along side a faint salty breeze. Although the manor was out of the way, it’s relative proximity to the harbor was apparent. There were little tall trees and instead favored apple trees that grew in rows leading to the bayside estate. Various sun kissed servants, both Charlinite and foreign rushed around the grounds tilling gardens, feeding the noble horses, gaming hounds and seeing to the orchard of apples.

	Inside the great house the party of conspirators, justices, and boyars too place in the study. The study was a tall room with the fancily decorated ceiling reaching far above tall gilded book stands filled with various books on politics, and more noticeably, justinian and theology. The acquired scent of old paper and spine glue from the books invaded the clean air and mixed with the faint salt from the bay, creating a strong concoction of thick strange scents warmed by the far reaching sun. The stained windows let in colored beams of light that fell on the heavily trafficked reed carpets, now stained with dirt as well as the shoulders of the boyar as he sat in his red velvet chair behind a golden wood desk.

	The Boyar of Lrev, Dernov Silverwave Unchix, was surprisingly tall for even a Charlinite as well as bald. He looked well fed and well rested as his skin and face showed little signs of stress, except for a few dings and marks on the mans hands and face that showed he had been in battle in his youth. His arms were coiled with rope burns, showing naval experience, but his body wore clean silky cloth, showing those days were for the most part over, or at least that was how he made it seem.

	“So,” Dernov said in a rusty sailors voice as he folded his hands together, “that is quite the interesting story. Justinian surely likes to test my patience by bringing me such news.”

	“Your grandness,” Benoroux pleaded, “I feel it was honorable of these men to extract the child from such danger and dishonorable upbringing.”

	“Perhaps,” The Boyar slowly nodded, “But what about their penalty for trying to dishonor my own docks?”

	“They can pay a fine,” Benoroux suggested, clearly the better option than whatever the boyar could possibly have in mind.

	“What do they have,” an impatient tone questioned.

	Benoroux glanced at the five prisoners, “A ship, cargo, guns.”

	“A broken ship.”

	“Still a ship, a cheap addition to your fleet, along with cannons!”

	“Very well,” the Boyar succumbed, “But does that in your mind pay for all the penalty?”

	“In mine, it does,” the older officer offered.

	The Boyar grunted, turning his attention to the newly clothed and rested prisoners “In your minds does this suffice?”

	The line of men exchanged glances and perhaps predictably they came to fall on Stephan.  How they had managed to take Ricken from that manor and not simply run the moment it was suggested Stephan never understood.  Regardless Stephan spoke for them, “It is all we have, all we have had for near two years.  If it does not suffice then nothing will short of our lives.”  

A few of the men behind him shifted uncomfortably but made no move to take up their own case, Stephan rolled his eyes and continued, ”So, that being the case in our minds yes, it does.”

	Dernov leaned forward, “So be it, I will take these things as pay for the penalty, their crimes against Lrev are resolved.”

	Benoroux nodded, giving Stephan a relieved glance, “It will be written.”

	“However, their crimes and scheme that followed them from the Dominion are still valid,” the Boyar began, “and while honestly I have no power to punish anyone for them, I do decide what becomes of you five and the little one.”

	Benoroux smiled respectively and raised his hand in protest, “In all due respect but the king-”

	“Forget the king,” Dernov huffed, “He is off playing the hero, this is my decision, and mine alone.”

	“There are too many of you who know about this, and I don’t like it, for all I know you might be spies.”

	“I highly doubt-” Benoroux began.

	“Benoroux, be quiet!” the Boyar hissed, causing Benoroux to stiffen his posture as if physically offended.

	“Plotters are everywhere Ben, and these short folks love to scheme and plot,” Dernov continued, “I don't even know these men’s plans once and if they are released, I can’t have big mouths running rampant in the streets.”

	“So, what are your plots and schemes, Yuwanist, and what should I do with you?”

	Benoroux openly rolled his eyes at the paranoia and bias remarks of his superior and turned to the five men, as if joining the Boyars striking stares into unraveling this entire scenario.

	Stephan simply shrugged, “I know not this country nor its people.  What I know of the language, I know from my studies of language, not of culture.  You ask what we mean to do and we cannot respond with anything but uncertainty.  We had never meant to come to Lrev and now that we are here what few plans existed are nothing but memories.  As for myself I wish nothing but to keep Riken safe, whatever comes of that is what I shall do I’d figure.” 

	The others behind Stephan whispered among each other before a darkly skinned man with a short beard and bald head, Garus, spoke out, “We’ll follow Stephan then.”  Stephan gave him a short nod and smiled.

	Benoroux smiled at the sentiment but the boyar seemed unmoved, and he was clear to express it, “So, what, I just let a bunch of yuwanist prisoners bent on tramping around with a kings son loose, and expect everything to be okay?” 

	“Lord,” Benoroux insisted calmly.

	“What, what, what,” Dernov raged, “Why do you doubt my instinct, we are Justinian, proper and honorable, they are yuwan, and already clearly shown distaste for our law.”

	“Nephew,” Benoroux demanded, “you will show honor and hospitality that Justinian demands, and the tenets dictate.”

	Boyar Dernov shot out of his chair, “you dare patronize me?”

	“Justinian would rather these men and their child burn, and burn they shall!”

	“You dare harm the innocent, and a child at that,” Benoroux’s voice flared with age as well as righteous anger, "you are unworthy of your mantel and unworthy of honor!”

	“You have no power, Ben, this is not the age of Roland, but the age of the new, the age we purge the world.”

	A sword shrieked out of its scabbard at Dernov’s words, and soon the sharp tip pointed at the man.

	“Then, I command by the code of the ancients, and all honor you lay your life, honor and title into your blade, and we shall see what age is what, and who is who,” Benoroux demanded, his arm shaking with age as it held the blade in the air.

	“A duel of righteous honor you want, death you will receive,” The enraged nephew roared at his elder uncle, snagging a blade that was hanging off his wall.

	Without further dialogue or preparation the two charged each other, sending Stephan and the others scattering away from the fight in confusion as Dernov rammed into the older, slower man with a stiff shoulder.

	Benoroux was sent reeling but quickly fixed his footing and styled his blade into a defensive strike, attempting to slash at the boyar quickly. His swipe was knocked away by the Boyar and reciprocated with a thrust. Benoroux moved towards the Boyar skillfully avoiding the thrust and locked their crossguards together, forcing their blades down and them up against each other. 

	With a swift, loud snap Benoroux slammed his forehead down the face of Dernov in an aggressive smash, sending blood spattering from Dernovs crushed face. Ben quickly followed the vicious slam with a shove, pushing the stunned Boyar off him, and giving him enough distance to continue his attack. Although slowed with age, Ben’s strike still struck true as he lunged at the dazed Boyar with a powerful leaping thrust, sending the tip of his blade through the rich clothes with a rip and into the man’s stomach with a sickening snap as it severed the internal organs.

	Benoroux put his boot on Dernovs belly right below his blade and kicked his nephew off and onto the floor where he squirmed and gurgled at the spectators, only to be silenced with a quick thrust down to his throats jugular and into the wooden floor beneath the carpet.

	Benoroux let go of his still standing sword, his hand pulsing from how tight he was gripping it. With a grim look he faced Stephan, “Welcome to Charlin.”

	Before Stephan could respond to the blood speckled man, he swiftly took the seat of the former Boyar.

 	“Both in name, lineage, and now through honor I claim the title of Boyar of Lrev,” Benoroux said softly, “I never wanted it, but sometimes fate is a whimsical mistress.”

	Stephan could not believe what he had seen.  It was not the fact that Dernov lay dead that unsettled him but that fact that some coincidences simply ran too deep.  One nephew traded for another.  Looking up he spoke in a solemn tone, “That she is.”

[hider=Things to know]

-Benoroux is now the rightful Boyar of Lrev, by lineage, noble right, and now by honor.

-A bigot has died at the hands of the compassionate

-The crew of [i] Empty Horizons [/i] has been trialed, fined, and deported

-the others are now in the hands of Benoroux, along with the heir

-Some repercussions of Charlins decentralization are evident here

-MORTAL KOMBAT

-Wait until the other nobles notice this. 

-The ships and it's belongings are now owned by Charin's navy
	[/hider]