INDIE BAAL-PEOR

Dead Man? I'd Rather Have a Seaman on My Poop-deck

We are now in what appears to be the courtroom hall. Why are there so many halls? Kinsley, the King's advisor, writes in the corner with his own little small table and scroll, it was pretty cute. He acts as the stenographer and writes everything down. Beside Kinsley were several guards and other notable figureheads.

Along the walls sitting in the podiums were my peers. I can see the gang and everyone else staring down at me, whom is lying smack dab in the middle of all this without a chair, mind you.

"What's going on? Did Indie do something?", "Tsk. Always this buffoon causing trouble for everyone, they should kick him out of the castle. You give him an ill and he takes a damn inch...", "Of course he did something, look at him—disgusting... Along with his ragged clothing. Gross." Thanks, fam.

DON DON DON!

Aurvandil slams his cane. He sears me with his blistering eyes, "Did you murder Jayce Fitzgerald—your leader and fellow Hero-to-be?" he inquests. My classmates stare at each confused, more whispers grow.

I am surrounded by idiots. This King? Idiot. My classmates? Idiots. Fitz? Dead idiot, it could be worse. Me? I'm smart as fuck and as so decided to be condescending as hell, "What do you think—sire?" I respond strutting my fat ass around the room.

"That's what I'm asking you, Indie-Indie Baal-Peor," He snares. "And yes, I know it's one Indie, and that's you. But you're acting like a damn fool so I'm going to treat you like a damn fool."

I stop my strut and turn to the King, "What evidence do you have that I did it? I'm not saying I did it, but if hypothetically I did do it, what evidence do you have that proves it?"

The King scratches his head, "Your jacket is torn right now and a piece of clothing was found on Jayce's body," Aurvandil whips out the cloth and tosses it to my feet, "To be fair, Indie-Indie, your peers will decide your innocence, not me. So, you tell me, smart one," the whispers boil in the crowd, it really looks like I was guilty.

Shieeeeeet, so that's why my jacket was torn, "I didn't do it, you damn idiot. I'm being framed!"

The King rises from his chair and saunters over to me with a big ol' smile. What a twat.

BASH!

The King strikes me in my belly with his cane. The wind escapes my lungs, I can hardly breath. I grab my gut as pangs of agony spread throughout my body. I gander up to the King with a hand reaching for him, "P—Please s—s—stop."

His grin is much greater this time, "You'd be lucky to keep that hand of yours," he crackles.

WHACK!

He strikes my wrist—

CRRREEEEEE!

My hand convulses and hangs motionless without my doing. My drawing hand and girlfriend were broken (dislocated).

Aww jeez, why couldn't it have been the less attractive righty?

His peachy smile remains while he gloats. Aurvandil twirls his cane over me and smashes the cane over my head.

BOOM!

My body meets the ground in a sensual way. Blood races down the sides of my temples, "Disrespect me again Indie and I will spill your brains across these halls in front of everyone here. This is my kingdom. These are my halls. These are my belongings that you find yourself to be enjoying. You lie on my floors and you dare disrespect me? Just because you're a Hero doesn't entitle you to the freedom of a Hero—you earn it," Aurvandil demeans me and everyone else in the room.

I laugh as I'm nauseated and dying while everything in the room spirals. The gash causes me to slur my words, "I—I w—w—was gonna a—ask if you t—th—think I could g—get that torn piece b—back so I could f—f—fix my jacket?" I cough up some blood and shake my head till I can see clearly.

CRITICAL ALERT – HP LOW

Less than a day here and I'm already gonna die, it could be worse. Best of all, it's in front of everyone and I'd look like a Hero dying. I glance at the King once more and grin, "Do it, I dare ya'."

I will never forgive you.

Aurvandil lifts his cane above his head and prepares another strike.

WOOSH!

A pillar of green flame engulfs me and causes my body to suddenly fill with vitality. A black lantern with really cool patterns is situated by my feet. I follow the lanterns chain and it see it belongs to Durian. Thank you, Durian, for whatever the hell you just did. What a nice chain.

Under Aurvandil's breath a few words escaped him, "It's really one of the legendary weapons..." Everyone that weren't my classmates share the King's amazement and causes everyone to silent down. Aurvandil motions to a different advisor and whispers, "Get Drona here now... Tell him a Hero has a legendary."

Lucius takes charge of the situation and looks visibly disgusted, "King! That's enough! Please—you're going too far!" He pleads, "We were witnesses, we told you he didn't do it!"

Aurvandil struts back to his chair and rests, "Yes, I'm aware," His eyes still full of amazement. He was uninterested in me since his eyes are glued on Durian's tools.

"Then why did you strike him like that!?" Lucius demands.

Aurvandil snaps out of his craze, "Because I can," He hands the cane to one of the guards who wipes off my blood. Thank you, Mr. Guard. Aurvandil flicks his hand once more, "Fetch the druids and give him a proper healing."

After a few minutes, healers of the court arrive and heal me with their magic. They can't fix the swellings so it's cast in bandages dunked in some healing juice. My bruises remain since those couldn't be removed by magic either. One of the female druids, who was quite beautiful and whom I should hit on, pats my shoulder, "You feeling better, Hero?"

I feel slightly less adrift, my wrist is pulled back into place and I stand before the King, "I really feel like this is a big misunderstanding. I didn't kill him, I swear. You really think a thick dude like me can carry a 150-pound man?"

"How would you know he's 150 pounds?" Aurvandil inquires.

Shieeeeeet, "I dunno, I'm just a guy so how could I have done it?" I'm really digging my own grave, aren't I? "Umm, what's the penalty for murder?"

"Well, if it was a commoner, death," It could be worse, "But a Nobleman or Hero in this instance... Most likely a small fine, but if they can't afford the fine then indentured servitude to the State. But like I said, your peers will decide your innocence, so plead with them, not me."

I really don't want to be a slave... I turn to classmates and fall on all fours and place my forehead to the concrete, "I didn't do it... Please, let me go," I beg, "Look at everything I was put through, would an innocent man be put through this?"

"What about the torn cloth?" Mikey shouts. Fuck you, Mikey.

I wave my hands, "That ain't mine. I've never seen that piece of clothing in my life."

"Didn't you just ask for that piece of cloth so you could sew it back?" Mikey, please, shut the fuck up.

My blow on my fingertips, "Nope. That ain't me."

Mikey points to Kinsley, "Stenographer, can we get a repeat of what Indie said?"

Shieeeeeet... Kinsley stops writing, "You want that with or without stuttering?"

"Without preferably," Mikey states.

Kinsley scrolls his finger up the paper, "To quote, 'You think I could get that torn piece back so I could fix my jacket?' End quote."

Shieeeeeet, "Y'all mind if I kill myself?" I state. Kinsley writes what I'd just proclaimed. Thanks, Kinsley. I need to stop playing the idiot since everything I'm saying is being used against me. I prostrate myself before the King, with fake tears in my eyes I cry, "Please forgive me for the jokes I was making, I didn't know everything I was saying was being recorded. Please, please, please let everything I said before be inadmissible in your humble court."

"I'll allow it this time, after all, I did just bend you over," He antagonizes me with a strange glance, "I believe in fair trails," He adds, Aurvandil turns to my classmates, "Please excuse Indie's past statements as being inadmissible."

"Why?" Mikey shouts, "It seems like he's guilty already!" After this is over I'm gonna kill you, Mikey. I don't even care if I get caught with this one. I'm finna bust my fist in your skull.

"You simply have to," Aurvandil declares, "The piece of cloth however is still evidence, so do with that what you will. Any who, I'll let the court prosecutors take to questioning. After all it's not even my job to do so but it does remind me of my younger days."

The court prosecutor steps forward, "In the case of Indie Baal-Peor verse the People. How does the defendant, Indie Baal-Peor, plead?"

"Not guilty," I claim confidently.

The prosecutor was about to continue until Aurvandil chimes in with a smile, "Indeed," He waves to Lucius, "Will you present your account—Opps, sorry," he laughs, "I forgot I wasn't doing the proceedings, but I just want to get this over with." The King chuckles.

The prosecutor continues, "Yes, as the King said, will you present your account to the court?"

Lucius takes a step forward, "He's innocent—"

"Please step into the chambers and just give us your account—not your opinion." The prosecutor insists. Thank you, Mr. Prosecutor.

Lucius licks his lips, "Sorry—from what I saw, Indie didn't do anything wrong. Mister Fitzgerald went over the railing," Lucius reveals while eyeing me, "It sounded like a fight was taking place."

"Why were you on your balcony to begin with?" Yeah, why were you still there after I told you to shut up, you cuck.

"I was on there with those three," he points to gang, "I was talking tirelessly away like I typically do. Being the center of attention, as always." He finally acknowledged it!

"State their names for the court please."

"Momo Senbou, Fayn Fanden, and Durian Durim. We were talking about coming to this 'New World'—about our new lives. Testing out our abilities and discussing generally what our mission was? Which we still don't know," Lucius announces.

"You said there was a struggle? Your room is five doors away, how could you hear a struggle take place?" Yeah, Lucius, how could you hear a struggle take place?

Lucius scratches his chin, "There was a sound—like a chair or a vase, just something that crashed."

"Why didn't anyone else hear it?" Yeah, Lucius, why didn't anyone else hear it? "You would think there would be more people to step forward who'd heard such a crash, no?"

"Look, I know one thing and it's that no one else was awake," Lucius asserts.

"How do you know no one else was awake?" The prosecutor inquires. Yeah, Lucius, how do you know no one else was awake?

"I don't. I can only assume because I'm typically always right. Plus, there was no one else there."

"No one else was there? But you said those three were there," The prosecutor catches Lucius. Damn, this guy's really on fire. Go, Mr. Prosecutor, I believe in you, convict the son of a bitch. Wait, I'm the one on trial...

"Are you daft? Can't you pick up on implications or do I have to spell out everything."

"I can't imply anything. You said no one was there, not me," Yeah, Lucius, which is it?

Lucius rubs his index finger and thumb together rather standoffish, "Don't put words in my mouth. That's my job." Yeah, Mr. Prosecutor, don't put words in his mouth.

"You're the one talking, not me. I'm just trying to get the story straight."

"Yeah, Lucius, the prosecutor's right, your story's as straight as a rainbow!" I argue.

The prosecutor turns to me, "Please refrain from speaking."

"No!"

"Do you want to be executed?" he asks stupefied.

"What if I say yes?"

"Then plead guilty and we can shut this case," The prosecutor claims.

"Indie, just tell them what happened," Lucius butts in and winks. This isn't the time and place to hit on me, my dude, "It was a struggle, wasn't it, Indie?"

"I object, your honor, Mr. Shahar is coercing me," I shout, "This is kangaroo court!"

"What does that even mean, Mr. Baal-Peor?" The prosecutor asked.

"Kangaroo court, I say!" I maintain.

"Are you saying this case is a sham? Are you implying that this is some farce?" He asks.

"I never said that—I said it's kangaroo court!"

"How—"

"Kangaroo court!"

"I'm just asking you—"

"Suck me a fat one."

"What—"

"Kangaroo court!"

DON DON DON!