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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ralts Bloodthorne" data-source="post: 6286326" data-attributes="member: 6390">FrellaThe Lord Captain finds his attention turned back to Bishop Frella at his sudden 'demotion' in favor of the Lord Bishop's slave. The church soldier's expression does not change, but there's a feeling of a lessening in tension from the man. One of the church soldier breathes a sigh of relief at the fact that the violence has been averted by the Lord Captain's short attention span.The Lagoo slave waits until the Shragma slaves bring the sedan up to in front of Bishop Frella before clapping her hands. A young lagoo, his clothing torn and the brand on his face still swollen and red from recent application, kneels in front of the sedan to allow Bishop Frella to get into the sedan with proper dignity."What shtall we do, your eminenthe?" the Lord Captain asks. He winces as the men sentenced to purification by Bishop Frella begin screaming as the flames ignite around their feet.Up by the gate, Bishop Frella can see that there are Imperial Marines gathering up, their weapons gleaming in the sun.SmytheSmythe pays no attention, still talking, when the two who were grabbing for weapons raise them up and fire, both bullets missing the Scout Captain, as well as the two marines. One bullet hits one of the maids in the arm, and she goes down on her knees screaming, holding onto the wound. The man with the severed hand has staggered back, holding onto the stump and screaming. The rest of the maids dive to the floor, with the exception of the lagoo who has been bringing Smythe beer (as well as a delicious sandwich of some kind of locally caught meat with odd spices that was quite delicious), who stands stock still, either in fear or courage it's hard to say.The marines pull their weapons, pistols in one hand and saw-backed blades in the other, standing up from their chairs.The scarred marine across from Smythe, as well as the one who neatly avoided the bloodspray, both look up at the church soldiers, but do nothing more than simply take another drink and let their hands fall beneath the tables. The young 'assistant', who has been listening to all the stories avidly, looks to Smythe for direction, and seeing him sitting there, does little more than draw his pistol and keep it in his lap as the church soldiers begin grabbing more muskets. One of the ones that fired begins to try to reload, the other jabs the bayonet on the end of his musket menacingly yelling "Yah!" at the top of his lungs.</blockquote>

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