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Mar. 1st, 2010 11:01 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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shiva_dancing_backupWho: Snow Villiers and Judge Ralse, the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre
What: Handling some bad elements.
When: Present.
Where: Rabanastre, Lowtown
Interaction: Open to people in Rabanastre
Warnings: Death~!
Snow raked his fingers through his hair, frowning behind his half-mask of a gorget, as he sat crouched above the rafters in a little shack in Lowtown. He was listening in on a conversation about Queen Ashelia, and her husband. Of course, he wasn't there as Snow Villiers, no, he couldn't do what needed to be done as Snow Villiers, because Snow could be put to the whips, or worse, for taking action outside Dalmascan law. But he loved Dalmasca as surely as he loved Ashelia, and certainly he understood that she was happy with Rasler. His love for her wasn't the type of selfish feeling that would drive him to madness with her in the arms of another, no, he truly did love her, and was willing to let her go just to see her happy. But to maintain that happiness, he had to do something about these disruptive elements that would steal them away.
Like these men and women below him, who were plotting not only to steal into the Palace and ransack the treasury, but they were also rife with bold assertions about what they would do to those inside. Put down for too long by Dalmascan rule, some were muttering, obvious foreigners. Regardless of race, creed, or gender, Snow saw them all as threats to what mattered most to him, and so he would handle it before such things ever darkened Dalmasca's doorstep, or bothered it's Queen.
He'd come up with a new persona, dubbing himself Judge Ralse, and had handled such situations as this in the recent past. Taking up residence in Lowtown was easy enough, he was a well-known and popular person there, though many people asked him why he wasn't trying to win Ashelia back. His answer was always the same, "She's happy, and that's what matters." indeed, he was quite gratified by this. His informants from within the Palace agreed that with Rasler back in her life, the Queen was her glowing, vibrant self. Certainly, Snow had been happy to be at her side, but that part of his life was over.. he wasn't abandoning Dalmasca, though, he needed to watch over it. He'd taken the name for his persona from an opera he had become fond of, from a distant place called "The Gestahlian Empire", and was called either "The Dream Oath" or "Maria and Draco". Snow found the opera charming, and often hummed the tune to an aria performed during the show.
A simple magick he'd learned also allowed him to summon his armor onto his person and dismiss it as well, so that he was easily able to switch between being Snow Villiers and Judge Ralse, and so was able to indirectly influence what he would be able to truthfully say. The conversation was reaching a close, though, so Snow readied himself, and dropped into the room behind the leader, a Bangaa man with a wiry build. Everyone's eyes widened at the intrustion, though the leader never stood a chance. Rimed in frost, Judge Ralse's gauntleted hand closed on the lizardman's throat, and though he kicked but once, Snow's powers leeched all warmth from his body, stopping his heart and killing him in an instant. The man released the Bangaa, who fell to one side, and shattered when he hit the floor. Someone screamed, Snow smirked. "You have been Judged." cliche, certainly, but effective. The windows were boarded, and a blast of cold from Snow froze the door on it's hinges, leaving the rest to his tender mercies.
Later that day, Snow looked shocked at the news he was hearing. A gossipy woman named Else was telling him about a group of people found that morning, apparantly killed in the night. "That's just terrible.. and in Lowtown?" the woman nodded at Snow's question, and replied, "And they're not the first, nosiree. Someone's out killin' every night this week, but it ain't been decent folk like you and me, Snow. Someone's yankin' the rotten teeth out of Lowtown, one by one. Francis was tellin' me this mornin' that people are callin' him the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre! Can you imagine? Rabanastre never had Judges."
Snow smiled, and patted the woman's shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry, Else. It's like you said, decent people like you and I aren't the targets. Perhaps if this continues, Rabanastre will be a safer place for everyone." the woman smiled at him, wondering again why Snow had deigned to step out of the Palace and live in Lowtown. "You get on home to Francis now, Else, and say hello for me would you? The wall he helped me with is holding up very nicely."
As she walked off, Snow smiled pleasantly. Judge Ralse, the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre. Yes, that certainly had a nice ring to it. It was a mouthful to be sure, but it inspired dread. And that's what Snow wanted. Humming the tune to the aria, he walked off towards the market, intent on some bread for his evening meal.
What: Handling some bad elements.
When: Present.
Where: Rabanastre, Lowtown
Interaction: Open to people in Rabanastre
Warnings: Death~!
Snow raked his fingers through his hair, frowning behind his half-mask of a gorget, as he sat crouched above the rafters in a little shack in Lowtown. He was listening in on a conversation about Queen Ashelia, and her husband. Of course, he wasn't there as Snow Villiers, no, he couldn't do what needed to be done as Snow Villiers, because Snow could be put to the whips, or worse, for taking action outside Dalmascan law. But he loved Dalmasca as surely as he loved Ashelia, and certainly he understood that she was happy with Rasler. His love for her wasn't the type of selfish feeling that would drive him to madness with her in the arms of another, no, he truly did love her, and was willing to let her go just to see her happy. But to maintain that happiness, he had to do something about these disruptive elements that would steal them away.
Like these men and women below him, who were plotting not only to steal into the Palace and ransack the treasury, but they were also rife with bold assertions about what they would do to those inside. Put down for too long by Dalmascan rule, some were muttering, obvious foreigners. Regardless of race, creed, or gender, Snow saw them all as threats to what mattered most to him, and so he would handle it before such things ever darkened Dalmasca's doorstep, or bothered it's Queen.
He'd come up with a new persona, dubbing himself Judge Ralse, and had handled such situations as this in the recent past. Taking up residence in Lowtown was easy enough, he was a well-known and popular person there, though many people asked him why he wasn't trying to win Ashelia back. His answer was always the same, "She's happy, and that's what matters." indeed, he was quite gratified by this. His informants from within the Palace agreed that with Rasler back in her life, the Queen was her glowing, vibrant self. Certainly, Snow had been happy to be at her side, but that part of his life was over.. he wasn't abandoning Dalmasca, though, he needed to watch over it. He'd taken the name for his persona from an opera he had become fond of, from a distant place called "The Gestahlian Empire", and was called either "The Dream Oath" or "Maria and Draco". Snow found the opera charming, and often hummed the tune to an aria performed during the show.
A simple magick he'd learned also allowed him to summon his armor onto his person and dismiss it as well, so that he was easily able to switch between being Snow Villiers and Judge Ralse, and so was able to indirectly influence what he would be able to truthfully say. The conversation was reaching a close, though, so Snow readied himself, and dropped into the room behind the leader, a Bangaa man with a wiry build. Everyone's eyes widened at the intrustion, though the leader never stood a chance. Rimed in frost, Judge Ralse's gauntleted hand closed on the lizardman's throat, and though he kicked but once, Snow's powers leeched all warmth from his body, stopping his heart and killing him in an instant. The man released the Bangaa, who fell to one side, and shattered when he hit the floor. Someone screamed, Snow smirked. "You have been Judged." cliche, certainly, but effective. The windows were boarded, and a blast of cold from Snow froze the door on it's hinges, leaving the rest to his tender mercies.
Later that day, Snow looked shocked at the news he was hearing. A gossipy woman named Else was telling him about a group of people found that morning, apparantly killed in the night. "That's just terrible.. and in Lowtown?" the woman nodded at Snow's question, and replied, "And they're not the first, nosiree. Someone's out killin' every night this week, but it ain't been decent folk like you and me, Snow. Someone's yankin' the rotten teeth out of Lowtown, one by one. Francis was tellin' me this mornin' that people are callin' him the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre! Can you imagine? Rabanastre never had Judges."
Snow smiled, and patted the woman's shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry, Else. It's like you said, decent people like you and I aren't the targets. Perhaps if this continues, Rabanastre will be a safer place for everyone." the woman smiled at him, wondering again why Snow had deigned to step out of the Palace and live in Lowtown. "You get on home to Francis now, Else, and say hello for me would you? The wall he helped me with is holding up very nicely."
As she walked off, Snow smiled pleasantly. Judge Ralse, the Rogue Judge of Rabanastre. Yes, that certainly had a nice ring to it. It was a mouthful to be sure, but it inspired dread. And that's what Snow wanted. Humming the tune to the aria, he walked off towards the market, intent on some bread for his evening meal.
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Date: 2010-03-07 02:29 am (UTC)Snow took them to a vegetable stall, where he placed a sum of gil in Citan's hand that far outweighed the need he would have to buy vegetables. Before the man could object, though, he trotted over to a baker's stall, and selected a dark, fragrant bread that would go well with the stew on his hearth. "Mmh.."
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Date: 2010-03-07 05:07 am (UTC)"I--ah?--" The money that Snow put in his hand felt heavier than it should have. He made a noise that sounded like a half-formed protest, but the man was already off to another stall. Citan looked down at the gil, then pocketed it somewhat reluctantly. "Thank you," he murmured despite the fact that his benefactor was long out of earshot. He wouldn't refuse Snow's kindness--that would be an insult.
He began to hunt one-handedly through the produce in search of replacements for the food that had been ruined, weighing things and checking them over for bruises. His attention, however, wasn't entirely on shopping. "As to the killings," he said to Gabranth, "there have been a string of them this week, and several just last night. Everyone has his pet theories, of course, but they all sound very...brutal."
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Date: 2010-03-09 05:56 pm (UTC)"Now then, I have to at least report to the castle and let them know of my arrival. If I am ever injured, I will be sure to ask for your services Citan." said Basch before giving a light bow.
"I'll see if I am needed at the castle first, but I will try and catch up with you." he said to Snow. He was sure his friend would have a little more than hearsay on the matter. Maybe even possible suspects that Basch could interrogate. "Until then, it was a pleasure to see you both."
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Date: 2010-03-10 04:15 pm (UTC)"Wouldn't want that 'Rogue Judge' fellow taking you down on the way. Even with a sword, an armful of groceries isn't going to help, huh?"
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Date: 2010-03-11 02:29 am (UTC)He collected a basket of eggs as well, paid for his food, and, once again ladened with three bags instead of two, nodded to Snow. "I cannot offer much in return unless you are in need of a doctor, but I would appreciate it! I suppose the groceries would be the least of my worries if I met him, but dropping them again would simply be terrible." He laughed, settling into a stroll beside the other man again.