Private Murder in Blood Reign

[The High Court of Illyria]

MURDER​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

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Once the small city of Blood Reign was a beautiful, vibrant place that was on its way to being one of Illyria's most profitable and progressive cities. That time had come and gone. With the fall of House Astier, the Overlord's of the city, there was a notable decline in the cities economy and even the demeanor of those who called it home. The sun no longer shined upon these lands, not nearly as brightly as it had once before. Unlike many of the smaller cities and towns on Illyria, Ragne De Sang was a historic city whose people held a certain pride. Now, there was poverty, infighting, and murder. Upheaval of the Law was one of the primary duties of the Magnate for these lands, the Lady Astier. Although The High Court allotted a number of policing forces to all cities, they were not generally enough to maintain the peace. So it was the duty of the Magnate and the regional constable to bulk their forces with local policing units, a hard thing to do when the Noble House was in a downtrodden state.​

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The disregard of the law had come to a single, hellish point. The murder of the daughter of a prominent Magnate who often conducted business in Blood Reign. Magnate Fren Yahn was an elder Twi'lek official whose influential family had come from Ryloth following the fall of the world to the Agents of Chaos. His lordship had been granted by the King himself, in hopes of keeping political ties to the Twi'lek populace. ​

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The young, beautiful, blue skinned daughter to this influential man, the Young Lady Annara, had been found dead in the slums of Blood Reign. Like most cities, the slums were no place for a noble Lady, particularly a young Lady alone. ​

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The body had been found in the dead of night by an Illyrian policing unit. It was almost immediate that the news would travel back to the Manor of House Astier when a young man in the uniform of the regional policing forces reported the murder. The young Officer, Corporal Couture, stood in the waiting area of House Astier's manor. When finally the Lady was brought before the Corporal, he bowed his head respectfully. "Milady." He said, respectfully. "There has been an incident milady. A murder in the West district. We have identified the victim as the young Lady Annara of House Yahn. The lieutenant ordered me to inform you at once." The Commanding Officer of the regional Policing Unit was a knowledgeable man, who knew this was an event that required the attention of the Provincial Lady. ​

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"My Lady, I am ordered to escort you to the crime scene if you are willing." The Officer reported, snapping his heels as he stood at attention, awaiting the Ladies orders.​

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[Fauvel Astier]

Blood Spilled

The Young Lady had been awake even though it was the late hours of the night when the Corporal arrived at the stead of her House carrying dreadful news. Fauvel rarely allowed herself sleep anymore, slumbering for only a handful of hours every couple of days when her half incorporeal body made its strain known to her mind. There was too much to be done, too little time to do it. The young girl had been working incessantly towards stabilizing the precarious situation her House and her province had been dragged into, yet every small step taken presented a new obstacle. And Fauvel had to be careful that these new obstacles did not cause her to step back, for no foul would be tolerated. When one garnered the hate of the nobles, no achievement was congratulated and every mistake a cause for severe punishment.

It was her sister, Sanne, who came to look for the head of the House. Fauvel instructed her to come inside upon hearing the knock on her chamber door, and could not help but feel surprised at the urgency this Corporal claimed. The young Lady swiftly changed her clothes into appropriate ones and left her chambers followed by her sister. Sanne, a priestess of the Ashen Church, had been deep in prayer upon the arrival of the officer and once her nightly ritual was interrupted, took it upon herself to accompany her sister. It was not frequently that the eldest sister, half of her face scarred, acted as an escort but she was without a doubt one of Fauvel's favored siblings. Sanne, at the command of her younger sister, made sure to gather a medium sized guard to accompany them.

Upon meeting the guard, the Lady urged him to state is business with no time lost for formalities. If the matter at hand required her attention as desperately as the man had suggested she would hear his message at once. His words were processed swiftly as he finished speaking, the image of the Magnate Fren Yahn and his daughter forming in the mind of the Lady. They were not Illyrian, but rather one of the immigrated nobles that had taken the place of the many bloodlines lost to the subjugation. Hers had almost been one, and her stomach churned at the idea of her ancestral home occupied by foreigners. She did not pursue this train of thought, for even if such were her true feelings a noble was a noble. And this defiance of the law was something she could not stand for in her lands. Her integrity as a leader would be once more be put to the test tonight, and Fauvel would do everything in her power to see it passed.

She only spared a short, but sufficiently respectful thanks to the Corporal for his swiftness once they were already on their way to the crime scene. Not only had the man acted fast, he had also returned to her instead of going to the father of the now lifeless Lady. A murder had been committed, and if word of it reached Magnate Yahn before Fauvel could present a good case and the culprit in chains to the father of the victim, her image would suffer not only in the eyes of the Court but of her people, who would feel unsafe knowing a killer ran amok in their city. In the past, her family had been known to deliver justice promptly and, in such cases as this one, severely. She intended to remind them of this tonight.

A few moments later they arrived at the place where the body had been found, and Fauvel lost no time setting her eyes to the task of inspecting the corpse and its surroundings. The blood on the mud was still fresh, and the twi'lek's body had only just begun to pale. The recent rain had done her another kindness, for the softness of the ground allowed two pairs of trails to be imprinted on the dirt. One smaller and thinner, its imprint more shallow. It must have belonged to the murdered Lady. The second one, though, was larger and it had gone deep into the mud the product of its owner's weight. The culprit was either heavy or, at least, heavily armored. And he could not have gone far.

The Young Lady turned to the soldiers and gave this description to them before issuing her command, "I want the city scouted beginning by its eastern wing and I want it done silently." As the men and women dispersed to begin their manhunt, Fauvel turned to the Corporal. "You are swift on your feet, Corporal. I will have the guards at the city's gates warned that no one is allowed to leave until further notice. Should anyone attempt to, they are to ask for their name and say there's been an accident on the main road that's already being taken care of."

Catching the culprit without alerting the citizens would be ideal, and so this would be her goal for as long as it could be afforded. Fauvel aspired to be as loved as she was feared, and this events no matter how...regrettable, were a chance to inspire both. After all, love was a powerful thing and one to be coveted; but they who build on the people build on the mud, for their ideas would always be destitute and fickle. Once she was left alone with Sanne, the Young Lady looked at her sister and the disturbing sound of her long claws being unsheathed filled the silence before she gestured the priestess to follow. Fauvel would join the manhunt herself.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

Lieutenan Du'Cout & The Three Trials​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

It was a cold night when the Lady of House Astier showed herself. The crime scene was a busy place. Those few forensic specialists that the city had were hard at work, standing over the Twi'lek body that laid in the center of the dark alley. The alley itself had been ray shielded on either side so the public could not enter, so naturally there were small crowds on each side of the shield, eager citizens interested in seeing just what was going on. ​

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When the Lady arrived, the Peace Officers called out to the gathered crowd. "Make way! Out of the way, you dogs!" The men had the crowd parted fro the Lady and her party. As the Magnate stepped forward, she was met by a middle aged man with deep brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. His uniform was well pressed and he held the Seal of the Illyrian Royal Officer's corp on his vest. "My Lady. Lieutenant Du'cout. I am the acting commanding officer for this investigation, I am afraid the Captain is indisposed." He explained, before escorting the lady towards the crime scene. ​

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The Lieutenant wasted no time, yet his tone was one that bordered on curt. "The female has been identified as the daughter of the Twi'lek Magnate, as I'm sure you've been informed. Seems she's suffered a Vibroblade cut to the throat, wrists, and..." when they approached the dead body it was apparent that the young woman's headtails had also been violently severed from her head. "Looks like he roughed her up a bit first, she's got multiple bruises along her ribs and back." He reported, glancing down at a datapad in his hands before his eyes quirked a bit. "Thing is, My Lady..." ​

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"This is the fourth Twi'lek woman to die this year." He said, before turning his eyes to the woman beside him. "There was a Doctor performing an autopsy on one of the tail heads that died about...four months ago. However, he closed his office about two months ago, no one really knows why, seemed like a good guy. We've had to ship the bodies to the Regional Medical Center and it's expected to have results for us in about three to eight months." The Lieutenant said, before tucking the datapad in his pocket. "Only clues we have are an eyewitness of a Zabrack fleeing the scene when our officer's stumbled on her. We're short staffed so pursuit protocols are no foot-chases with only one officer. Too dangerous." The man breathed out, as if realizing the horrid state of their Peace Officer staffing. ​

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"Oh, there were also some reports of the Twi'lek having a handmade with her, another tailhead. Thing is we can't seem to find her. Reports say she was found in one of the upper-class cantinas from time to time, but we can't get a bead on her, My Lady." ​

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When the Magnate's orders came in the Lieutenant nodded at her words. "As you wish, My Lady. However, locking down the city will significantly lower the men we can use for the search parties. Could take us a bit longer to find anything..." He warned her, before sending his corporal off to deal with the lockdown. ​

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"I have four men I can put at your disposal, My Lady. What are your orders?" The Lieutenant asked her, clasping his hands behind his back militantly. ​

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OOC: There are three prime investigation points revolving around the murder - ​

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1. The City's main doctor suddenly resigned his post after conducting an autopsy on the other Twi'lek women. He has been known to be a prominent, friendly, and successful doctor. It is odd that he suddenly quit working for the Peace Officer's morgue.​

2. The Twi'lek's handmaiden is missing. She is prominently known to be seen in a popular Cantina in the upper-side of the town. The Green Emerald. ​

3. A Zabrack was seen fleeing the scene. Due to his red skin the authorities could not determine if he was covered in blood or not, however he seems to be hiding within the city.​

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[Fauvel Astier]

A Failure and a Doctor

Two days had gone by since the Lady issued her command, two days of lockdown for her city and two days of nothing as far as useful information or breakthroughs went. At least she was sure to have the crime scene cleaned up and the mutilated body properly taken care of and preserved, but nothing could soothe the growing anxiety and anger within the Young Lady at coming out empty handed at every turn. After the first night, word had spread through the city that a Zabrak was running about and voices confirmed he had indeed been covered in blood. After a day and a half more of searching, he disappeared, apparently well holed up somewhere and successfully evading her forces and herself. Fauvel had barely returned to the Widow's Wail for rest and to tend to immediate matters that required her attention. Every other second, the Lady was on the streets alongside some of her siblings to aid the efforts of their reduced guard.

By the end of this second day, Fauvel was once more presented with a choice. She could continue to pursue to the Zabrak or shift her focus to one of the two other leads: the doctor or the handmaiden. The first option was promptly discarded, the alien knew he was being hunted and she doubted he would resurface any time soon if he valued his life. She considered the handmaiden before remembering that her whereabouts were also quite uncertain and if she did not feel up to begin another search, she could only assume that her men wouldn't be enthusiastic about it either. That left her with the Doctor, who had worked the bodies of the previous tailhead victims before suddenly deciding to stop practicing his profession.

Her slender body was wrapped in a dark robe, leathered pants and boots comprising the rest of her outfit. The quality and the detail of her garments were enough to denote her status, while allowing for more comfortable mobility than a dress. It was probable that she would once more spend the whole day on the street following some lead or the other as she tried to make sense of this mess. Fauvel was well aware that it was nothing short of a blessing that Magnate Yahn had not yet made an appearance.

It was the early hours of the morning when the Lady began her short trip to the Doctor's residence, but surely an honest man of his line of work would be up and getting ready to face the day at least out of habit. If he wasn't, well, surprise could be an element to play in her favor. People's tongues were looser when they were startled, or so had her experience so far demonstrated.

Sanne and Sennet, another of her siblings and twin to Sanne, accompanied and guarded Fauvel. Upon their arrival, it was Sennet who knocked on the door. If the knock was acknowledged, she would announce the arrival of the Lady of House Astier.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

THE GOOD DOCTOR​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

No sooner than the front door of the Doctor's house was knocked upon did the Doctor open the door to the trio of women before him. The Doctor was an older man with a stubble of grey and brown hair along his beard. He looked to the two before him and arched a brow at the group that has arrived. The old Doctor was not unaware of who was at his door, in fact his eyes quirked softly at the sight of the woman before him. "Lady Astier?" He said, in an unbelieving tone. He bowed his head respectfully, placing two fingers to his head in an honored salute of the people. "My Lady, how can I assist you?" He asked curiously, before waving a hand almost half-hazardly. "No, no, this will not do. Please, come in of course." He said, stepping back and aiming his hand towards the inside of his home.

Inside the Doctor's home he seemed the rather...scattered type. Old books filled the home, from one place to another, though they were neatly placed and there seemed to be no spot of dust. The home even had a smell of fresh cinnamon and apples. "May I offer you some tea, My Lady?" The man asked, leading the group into the Common Room if they were willing. There was a single seat in that room. A comfortable chair with a rather curios book on Twi'lek anatomy resting on the arm. "Please, my Lady. I would be honored." The man said, gesturing to the seat humbly.

The Doctor had a certain knack for being known as a man of supreme humility and passion for his work. He was an expert, who had been on the radar of many prominent noblemen in his years, yet he always kept his business in Blood Reign. Faithful and diligent, and also a strong supporter, though not a vocal one, of the House Astier's late Lord and Lady. Though that was something the man kept close to his breast, even from the current Lady of the House.

"Now, my Lady, how may I be of assistance to you?" He asked with an arched brow. That was when he chuckled a bit in thought. "If this is about my practice my Lady, I can assure you I am not leaving Blood Reign. I am merely stepping down from the local forces service. Stretching my wings a bit as it were. My cohorts have been telling me for years to start a private practice and...well I figured, what the hell? May as well try something new before my old hands grow shaky and my eyesight leaves me, you know?" He had a certain jovial tone about him, yet the moment he spoke of his practice there seemed to be something...off. His words did not have that certain pep that they had, instead it was something more false, more masked that he presented to the Lady of House Astier.

"If it has to do with a private retainer, I am afraid I would have to decline, after all I am a man of the people, you know. Not unlike your late father, Force rest his soul." He said, before clearing his throat. "I yammer on my lady, apologies."​

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[Fauvel Astier]

"Do not talk of my Disgrace"

The quick timing of the Doctor to answer his door pleased the Young Lady. It wasn't a surprise, for someone of his profession must have been used to responding to all sort of emergencies, but this little habits she respected and welcomed in others. Time was a precious thing, her time even more so. Her initial satisfaction did nothing but grow at his respectful display, putting a small smile on the pale one's lips. She could feel she was growing less used to being treated with the esteem and courtesy her name had so strongly demanded in the past, it was a reminder of her one and only goal. That everyone, once more, would address her and those of her blood in a manner she considered worthy of them. Yes, this man had her approbation. And Fauvel allowed herself to feel at ease that he would prove helpful with little need for...incentive.

Once inside, her tourmaline eyes explored the new surroundings. Personally, the Lady preferred a more neat environment, but it was easy to see that the man knew the order to his disorder and her initial liking of him made it easy to ignore the clutter. Everything was clean, and as of late she had been received in worse places than his home. Sanne and Sennet followed behind her, staying near the door. The Priestesses seemed to be equally amused at the Doctor, welcoming the stroke to their pride and ego that they had missed so much. "That would be lovely, Doctor." Fauvel's voice filled the room as she accepted his offer for tea and took her seat. The book in the armrest did not go unnoticed. The Young Lady had a voice that was both grave and light, depending on the words she used. Equal parts pleasant and sharp.

Upon his next question, the Lady readied herself to begin her inquiry but got no time to do so before the man went on into a rambling. She allowed him to continue, her patience shining through for the one who had earned her liking. The information was appreciated, even if unrelated to her purpose here. It was good to know he did not intend to leave Blood Reign, for someone of his skill and reputation would always be good to have. The Young Lady could detect the small and scattered tones of unease in his voice, but for the moment kept her pleasant disposition. If only his last words had been different...

The mention of the wretched creature that was her Father shot a cold and dangerous force down her spine. Suddenly the room seemed to grow frigid and deadly as the hatred she so carefully harbored within her, ever growing and ever ready, came up like a wildfire in dried leaves. The pink eyes of the Lady flashed in red as the Darkside of he Force unleashed within her feeding off the anger and ill intent that surged at the Doctor's comment. The Lady suddenly stood up, her chair sliding back only to be stopped by the hand of Sanne. The priestesses seemed to share in her sibling's ire. And the clawed hands of the Lady Astier came to rest upon the table, her curled fingers enough indication that she was more than ready to put them to use as her brutal glare cut into the Doctor like knives.

"The only thing that man brought to the people was dishonor, hunger and hardship while driven by an imbecile's ambition. I hope he forever rots in the darkest of pits alongside his foolish wife and children and if you ever mention him again in such a light, Doctor, I'll rip your tongue and feed it to the sewer rats. Do I make myself clear?" The venom in her voice was so strong it gave the impression it would begin to drip from her lips in a matter of seconds. Not giving him time to respond, her hand pointed backwards and using the gift of the Ashen Winged, the book on twi'lek anatomy flew right into her palm. After, it was slammed on the table for the doctor to see.

"Now you will tell me everything you know about the murder and mutilation of twi'lek females, Doctor. And I would think carefully on what I say next if I were you." It was clear that should she doubt the veracity of his words, he would not enjoy the consequences.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

FOUR MURDERS, TWO MURDERERS?​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

There was an unexpected shift in the room when the good Doctor mentioned the young Magnate's parents. The Doctor raised his hands in defense as the young woman stood, her presence exerting itself over the Force and sending a cold chill up his spine. He faltered, stepping back into one of the small stacks of books, causing him to fall back. The only thing that stopped him was a cedar bookshelf, which thundered against the wall as he shrunk back from the woman in terror. "Je suis désolé, Magnate!" Magnate, I am so sorry! The Doctor cried out before turning his eyes to the book the woman had laid upon the table.

"Twi'le- oh Force..." From the mention of the Twi'lek females the man seemed to be immediately set on edge. He glanced over at the book and then back to the Magnate. He repeated the action again and again, his mouth open and agape before finally he found his words. "M-murders. Three of them. All in the past year. Uhm, the first one was a young woman, early twenties I think? Beaten to death and then her head tails were cut off, taken as a trophy or some kind of sick badge." He muttered out before clearing his throat.

"Next two died the same way. All of them seemed to be caught unawares, bashed over the back of the head, beaten to death and the their heads tails cut off. All three deaths occured at night in the alien sector of town." He cleared his throat.

"B-by the depth of the bruises and positioning we believe it was a person of short build and stature who committed the crimes. Authorities found medium sized footprints on the scene of each crime."

"Authorities believed it to be a hate crime against the Twi'leks but..." He paused, shifting his eyes from one place to another. "There was something odd about the Twi'leks. All three of them had traveled from the City of Magnate Yahn in the last eighteen months or so."

"I-I can't be sure. The Magnate sends many refugees here, but all three of these women were registered for his province." He said. It was quite obvious that something was bothering the man, causing him to possibly withhold some information. The Magnate would feel the fear and hesitation dripping off from the Doctor.

OOC: The original three Twi'lek murders were committed by a man or woman of small stature and height. Magnate Yahn's daughter seemed to be killed by a man or woman of Medium build or greater. This causes you to believe the two sets of murders may not have been committed by the same person, although they do appear linked in some way. All of the victims are connected to Magnate Yahn and his province.​

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[Fauvel Astier]

"Let me keep your Secrets"

Even though she kept her silence as the Doctor spoke, the grip of the Darkside within her did not recede. Ember-like eyes stared at him judging his every word and she could feel how the Force tried to follow her intent to infiltrate the mind of the old man and rip the answer she needed from him. But alas, inexperience failed her, her gifts not yet honed enough to successfully achieve her desire. That did not stop the Lady from trying, for even if she never managed to read into his thoughts, maybe the presence of her darkness looming at the gates of his mind would make him believe she could. However, her observant eyes could pick up on many other things, Fauvel knew how to use other means besides the Force.

His every word seemed to complicate the case rather than reveal it, there was a lot of new information to process and knowing he had nowhere to go, Fauvel took many precious seconds of absolute silence to thoroughly contemplate and order every new bit of detail and commit it to memory. Four murders, sharing many similarities and connections but apparently perpetrated by two different subjects. None of which have been apprehended by the officials. The ineptitude of the guard she commanded was painfully obvious to her on a good day, but it felt like stab in the back in this very moment. She lacked the numbers, and she clearly lacked the authority she so coveted if criminals ran amok in her province and those in charge of stopping them seemed to care little about their work, judging by results.

There origin was particularly bothering her. Yahn's daughter being in Blood Reign was easy enough to justify, his father frequently had business here and his daughter tagging along and deciding to stay and wander for a bit was a likely possibility. Fauvel had done so herself, when her cursed father was alive and she was forced to stick to his side like a loyal dog to learn from him. Wasted hours, all of them. But the remaining three twi'leks...it was quite peculiar, that they would all choose to come here, take a walk through the night and meet their fate at the hands of brutal murderers. It was not hard to notice that the good Doctor found this strange too, but Fauvel had the feeling it was less of a mystery to him than it was for her...

The initial fire of her anger had died down, but now it burned like a cold and constant flame that promised to scorch everything around it no matter how long it took it. The piercing glare of her red eyes seemed to be even more terrifying now than it had been when consumed by unleashed and raw emotion. "I would know the real reason why you closed your practice after so many years of diligent work, Doctor. You see, I am very patient but I'm afraid I am a bit pressed for time right now. If you truly care about the people, Doctor, you will not whithold information...murderers are on the loose, and someone will have to pay the price. Better we put the right heads in the chopping blocks, don't you agree?" There was a darkness to her words that could make a heart tremble.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

RICH & MURDEROUS?​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

The Doctor took a shallow breath when he felt the darkness wash over him. It scared him, drove him to shrink back against the bookcase once again as if there were truly any more space left for him to flee to. His hands curled around his head in defense against what he could only sense was impending doom. "Mercy, my lady, mercy!" He cried out, tears coming to his eyes as he stuttered over his words speaking once again.

"A-a man!" He finally blurted out. He shifted to the floor, sitting with his back to the wall as tears flew from his eyes as water from a stream. "A man came to my office months ago. Telling me to leave my practice, that the Twi'lek autopsies must never be completed. He was a large man, and he threatened me horridly! He had so many credits that he gave me, there in that bag!" He called out, pointing to a bag in the corner of the room, seemingly untouched.

"Leave my practice and he'd give me enough to start a private one if I wished, if I did that I'd keep my life! He warned me not to turn to the authorities or else...or else.." The older man muttered, letting his words fall to the obvious indication of death. "He was a human, a large human man with dusty brown hair, but I never saw his face m'lady!"

"He told me if I said anything then his friend in a high place would have me murdered, not even you would be able to protect me!" The Doctor cleared his throat, before pausing as if remembering something. "His comm, h-he wore an advanced comm, a golden circlet that was wrapped around his left wrist!" He told the woman frantically. "Please, that is all I know, mercy milady!"

OOC: The Doctor was threatened by a large human man with dusty brown hair. He was ordered to end his work on the Twi'lek murders or die. He was paid over thirty-thousand Galactic Credits, hinting that the man who wanted the murders covered up is influential and wealthy. The man who threatened the doctor had a golden circlet comm-link on his wrist. The Doctor has little to no more prominent information.​

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[Fauvel Astier]

"It is better to be Feared"

The Lady allowed the bite of darkness to recede as the man revealed his truths. It was such a pity that tongues only loosened through intimidation, but then again it seemed like this Doctor deserved such treatment and much more. He had intended to keep information from his liege, he had accepted a bribe and allowed the people he so claimed to care about to be put in danger, killers among them allowed to run free. All for his measly life, the honor of her name put once more in the line for the imbecility of a man. The urge to punish him herself was tempting, the corrupting chants of the dark urging her to give in to bloodlusted intentions. But this was beneath her. She would not dirty her hands with coward's blood.

She remembered his description: a large human man with dusty brown hair, carrying a heavy bag of credits to silence doctors and who knew who else. The idea that this was not only a hate crime but a very literal hunt for sport started to play in her thoughts. Meanwhile, she gestured for one of her sisters to retrieve the bag, Sanne heeded the command and grabbed the bag. "Your bribe will be confiscated, Doctor." Fauvel's voice was back to normal, although it certainly lacked the pleasantry it once had held for the man. "My sister will take you back to the command center where you will be detained and judged for the charge of accessory to murder, under extortion." She explained, but even though there was an undeniable justness to her words a lingering promise lay behind them. "By a public jury, let us see if the people you love so much as to betray and put them in danger for dirty credits forgive your offenses, Doctor."

As Sanne left, met outside by two more officials to take the Doctor to the command center, Fauvel turned to Sennet and exited the man's studio. She was carefully considering her thoughts when the voice of one of her guards interrupted her. The handmaiden had been found, and she awaited in an apartment in the company of other officers. Finally some good news, with little time wasted. The Young Lady nodded in acknowledgement and, shadowed by Sennet, followed the men to the apartment. Within it awaited a twi'lek maid, older than herself but young still.

"I am sorry for you loss, the news of your Lady's fate must have been terrible to receive." There was empathy in her voice, perfectly faked apprehension. She was eager to see the twi'leks reaction, maybe something would be revealed by her sadness...or lack thereof, perhaps. "I am afraid to say Lady Yahn has not been the only one of your species to find death in such a gruesome, unforgivable manner. I am determined to get to the end of this and see justice dealt so that your Lady and the other women may find peace in their afterlife. I understand you were always with your Lady, anything you know I will to hear."

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

THE MURDERESS​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

When staring into the eyes of a demon, it is best to never look away.

The youthful Twi'lek Handmaiden, Naoromi Yinla was beautiful, stunningly so. She had an air of libido that practically dripped from her very core, so much so it would put the most chaste of men and women on edge. When the Magnate found the woman, she would not find a scared, shriveling woman on edge, but a confident, beautiful creature whose eyes were akin to a vipers.

"Dead." She repeated with a certain surprise in her voice. Yet, it seemed to come as more of a statement than a question. "The young lady?" She paused, turning her eyes away from the woman before sighing softly. "She was...my dearest friend." The woman said, running a weary hand over her soft, light-blue chin. Tears dripped down from her eyes, pristine clear droplets that only reacher her chin before they were precisely wiped away from the woman's skin.

When the Magnate pressed her inquiry, the young Twi'lek stood from her chair, turning away from the woman as she spoke evenly. "She was...prone to...perversion, you see." The woman began, placing a hand over her face, shaking her head softly. "I should have seen this coming. The Lady took to great lengths to...be utilized...she has a particular fancy for humans and well...as you see there are few in her original province. My Lady enjoyed the men of your world, and I was afraid that her activities would see her to harm. She was a...forceful woman...always throwing about her title and prestige. I am afraid this is the only ending for such a life of adultery." The woman exhaled, before shaking her head. "You see this is why we came here to begin with. Her father wanted her occupied away from his affairs so she may not besmirch our proud lord's name, When he sent her out earlier this year I just knew things would end terribly...and now they have."

The woman said, crying into her hands.

Just then the door to the housing unit was thrown open.

Two members of the City Policing Unit stepped inside, one of them being the Corporal who had originally alerted the Magnate of the murders. "Milady." He said, gesturing to the man who was clasped in their hands. He was a young Zabrack, a boy of light build who had a youthful face but rugged, downtrodden clothing. "We found the witness and...you may want to hear this."

"Tell, milady what you told me." The man said, before turning to the Zabrack. Though he was an alient the young man spoke with a thick Illyrian accent. "My Magnate...I sleep in the alley where the young woman was found. She was from my home province, you see, the daughter of the Magnate there. I swear milady I did her no harm, i tried to help her but I could not fix her wounds....she was walking in the darkness with another of her kind, a Twi'lek. But when they turned down the alley the woman turned, grabbing her by the throat. That was when another man bashed her over the head. They beat her to death, milady, before leaving her in the alley. The man was large with brown hair and the woman was...." His voice trailed off as he saw the Handmaiden standing behind the Magnate.

"....Her." he said in shock, pointing a single slender finger at the Twi'lek.

That was when the Twi'lek handmaiden ran.

She was fast, bolting into the back room and quickly sprinting out the back door of the house. She would not be caught so easily.

OOC: The Handmaiden was not genuinely shocked about news of her mistresses death. In fact, despite her tears, she did not even seemed saddened by the news. Every word dripping from her lips is a blatant and clear lie. While speaking to the handmaiden the City Patrol brings in the Zabrack witness who named the handmaiden as an accomplice to the crime, when fingered the handmaiden immediately bolts away.​

​

 

[Fauvel Astier]

"The Thrill of the Hunt"

The Lady of House Astier struggled to keep her composure as this bifid tongued fool attempted to lie to her. Such a waste, she thought, to possess beauty so uselessly. Not for a moment did a believable speck of emotion overtake the twi'lek, and it was easy to see that she never held not even a droplet of sympathy for her lady. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place, all thanks to this creature's failed treachery. Whether the tailhead was hateful or an ice-cold sociopath, Fauvel did not care. All she knew was it did not take a genius to deduce her involvement with the clues gathered so far and her detachment. The Doctor's words lingered in Fauvel's head, a light set of footprints indicating a short and light attacker. This woman fit that description perfectly.

Throughout her little speech, Fauvel had been preparing her questions. Measured words, hints enough to let the tailhead know of her suspicion but not enough to alarm her. The starweird had no doubt that the handmaiden would soon be apprehended and the raging wave of disorder and anxiety that these last three days had been would be over. But alas, fate had never been quite so kind to her. As the door opened and the officers from the City Policing Unit made their entrance, Fauvel turned to look at them. Her tourmaline eyes widened as she saw who they carried with them. The Zabrak.

Surprise did nothing but grow as the alien began to speak, his Illyrian accent easily welcomed by her ears. Apparently her assumptions about the man had been quite wrong, and she did not detect the deception that was so effortlessly noticed on the twi'lek in him. The mystery was finally solidifying into a tangible, comprehensible form. The Young Lady was a mere moment away from issuing the command to detain the handmaiden when she bolted through the back. No order was needed for the officials to begin the chase, and Fauvel turned to the two remaining guards, her sister, and the Zabrak. Anger at the twi'lek bolting was evident in her eyes, but her temper was well under her control.

"The man. Did you see his face? Could you recognize him if you saw him again?" She asked, tone sharp and stress not allowing for more niceties even if faked. She believed the Zabrak, and was truly grateful that another valuable piece of information had been suddenly dropped into her hands. Her hopes of finding him had long died. She then turned, eyeing the guards. "I want that twi'lek detained, search for her. And the Ashen One forbid you fail me." They went off, another manhunt was about to begin.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

CAUGHT​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

The young Zabrack bowed his head, keeping his eyes from what he suspected was the incoming wrath of the Magnate. He spoke evenly and calmly, though there was worry in his tone. "I did not see his face, milady. Only that he had a golden circlet on his wrist. I remember it shining." He said,

"And...and I remember her saying that the task had to be completed before the Magnate came to Blood Reign." The young man kept his head bowed respectfully, pleasing softly before looking up to the woman. "That is all I know milady, I swear. I was sleeping when they came down my alley. I swear I tried to save the young Lady but I could do nothing." He pleaded.

It was quite apparent that no matter how many villains were entangled in this plot, that the Zabracki was not one of them. No, he seemed to be an innocent boy caught in a sad ploy.

Time passed and the Magnate had not even left the housing district when two of the Illyrian Policing Officers drug the young Twi'lek down the road. She was...considerably roughed up, likely from a small chase. Blood trickled down her nose as she was brought before the Magnate, placed at her knees before the woman. The Twi'lek looked up at the Magnate and her eyes howed a red-hot fire. "You queen..." She cursed, however in the next moment one of the officers brought his fist across the back side of her head. "Quiet!" He hissed in warning to the Twi'lek.​

​

 

[Fauvel Astier]

"A bird in hand"

Had the timing been different, her ire would be directed at the Zabraki man for escaping and eluding capture in the beggining. Even though the Young Lady had a cold mind and a sharp wit, she was still inexperienced and sometimes the wish to see things solved quickly led her to act rashly. However, now, after speaking to the Doctor and the Handmaiden, after seeing a blatant liar and a scared, but honest man, after all the clues that had been collected, the Lady could not bring herself to judge the Zabrak for escaping. Without all these clues, Fauvel might have sentenced him too swiftly if he had been caught back then. These last days were a lesson, and even though it was not yet over, she would remember it.

"I believe you," The statement was simple, carried by an even tone that would put the man at ease. "Now, I want you to tell me everything that happened that night with as much detail as you remember. Leave nothing out." She hoped the Zabrak would remember clearly or at least recount the mentioned events with more precision now that he knew there would be no punishment coming his way. Tension still weighted heavy on her chest, her mind unable to avoid the thought of whether her guard would catch the handmaiden or not. After all, no amount of clues and information would appease Magnate Yahn if she could not deliver the murderers themselves. Even these last few blessed victories would be for nothing.

Her wait was not long, and the withered heart of the Young Lady seemed to spring to life as she set eyes on that wretched twi'lek. A pleased smile stretched her pale lips as the woman dared insult her. This time carefully, with no brash or furious flames, she allowed the comforting shroud of darkness that felt so oppressive to others surround her. Her rose eyes turned as red as fresh blood, and she stood over the twi'lek with only one intent. The claws in her right hand extended, and before anyone could realize what had happened the handmaiden's face had been marred. Four long stripes of bleeding wounds running from the corner of her forehead and through her left cheek to finish below her cheek. How much damaged had been done to the tailhead's left eye, Fauvel did not know.

The Young Lady was not amused by the twi'lek's pain, she was not of a sadistic nature. But retribution, punishing disrespect. was something very different; this she relished. "Please, do repeat your words, you stingless bee. I would enjoy scarring you again." Keeping her claws close to the twi'leks face, her darkened voice resonated once more as the tailhead would begin to feel pressure around her thin and long neck. It did not impede her speech, but held enough firmness to carry on the promise that her breath would be cut from her if she did not provide a satisfactory answer. "Who is the man that helped you kill Lady Yahn?"

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

A SECRET TO BE UNCOVERED​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

The handmaiden, even with her face so marred and her body so exhausted, was yet a vision. A sad vision. Her eyes held some wildness behind them that the woman could not hide even if she wished it.

When the woman's nails came down, slicing into the Twi'lek's face, the woman yelled out in pain. Her eyes watered as blood welled in her eyes, mixing with tears to create an eerie pink liquid that flowed over her cheeks. The young woman turned her eyes to the Magnate, clasping her lips shut and shaking her head in defiance. "No...no!" She yelled out, crying out loudly enough to make a scene of the area.

She glanced around, looking frantically before muttering. "He'll come for me, my love, he will!" She yelled out. "He's got to come for me!" She yelled out in distress. "And when he comes, he will kill all of you, I promise!" She swore. ​

​

 

[Fauvel Astier]

"Blinded by Love"

Fauvel was not expecting the twi'lek to be overcome by this deranged emotion and begin yelling like a wounded pig. It caught her by surprise, but this did not mean the Young Lady did not react quickly. As soon as the twi'lek's threat left her plump lips, Fauvel called on the Force to slam her against the ground. She had feel she did not use as much Force as she had originally intended to, but such were the pains of lack of skill. She hoped it was still enough to shake the Twi'lek out of her sudden outrage.

While still keeping her down, Fauvel crouched next to her head, looming over her like a hawk waiting to go in for the killing blow. Her voice came out slow and grave, like a nightmare whispering into the woman's ear. "No one is coming for you. You are nothing to him, or to anyone, but a pretty tailhead, expendable and weak. The last memory you will ever have of your love is of the moment when he left you alone to be so easily hunted down. A decoy, an insignificant piece of bait as he ran away from you, betrayed you." The softness of her voice seemed to sharpen her every word.

Fauvel aimed for despair to take over the twi'lek at the prospect of dying alone, abandonned, never to see her lover's face once more before her pretty head was separated from her pretty body. "That is, unless you tell me his name. Then you will see him again, for the last time, before you go. It is your choice, die alone and forgotten, or die with him." She did not believe the twi'lek would want to protect the man. She did not seem strong enough for such a feat, but going after what she craved? His love? Fauvel thought that would be a safer bet.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

CONFESSION​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

Days later
​

After the Magnate's interrogation it became apparent that this woman, though weak of will, was not keen on releasing the name of her accomplice. However, three hellish nights in the darkest cell that the Magnate had to offer, paired with hours of excruciating pain, proved to be the catalyst to shatter the young woman.

In the dark cell she was broken. Her mind was weary and when finally she spoke after the many days of endless pain, it was to say a single phrase. "Captain...of...the guard...Pierre." Her words were spoken as she struggled to keep her head up. In the darkness her beautiful features meant nothing, but even now her voice was a soft melody. "Captain...Pierre of...my Magnate's guard."

The woman looked up at those who had gathered. Her cheeks were beginning to run gaunt and her frame was growing lithe from the stress of the past few days. She had wanted to protect her lover, but at this point she did not know if she would ever see the light of day again. There would be no hiding, no running, no escape. She was well and truly caught. All she could hope for was to end her suffering. "Will...will you spare my life?" She asked softly, her words barely above a whisper at this point.

Still, as the woman spoke, there was one thing that remained. Motive. ​

​

 

[Fauvel Astier]

"The Reckoning."

Fauvel could feel exhaustion even if her body was not truly a body. This last week had weighted heavily on her shoulders, and she prayed to the Dark Crone that good came out of it, if her Dark will allowed it so. Finally, she had a name, and two people ready to testify. The Doctor and the Zabrak, their word would be vital to her plan. Magnate Yahn would be arriving soon, and so the Young Lady shrugged off the tiredness and the complaints of her earthly vessel and readied herself to face another day, another challenge. If this went wrong, it could be the last mistake. They had so very little to lose, which meant they would lose everything. Fauvel could only comfort herself in the knowledge that she had planned, that this day was devised to the best of her ability.

Should it fail, she would be ashamed. But bigger would be her shame if she felt she had left something out. After endless hours of planning and plotting, the Young Lady gathered her Blood Council and the captains of the Policing Unit. In a few hours, Magnate Yahn would be arriving and a small gathering of guards together with an official messenger would meet him at the gates of Blood Reign's city to escort him and those with him back to the Widow's Wail. Nothing would be yet said, besides the request from Magnate Astier's for him and those loyal to him to be present. That last word, loyal, was the key to the message. None would dare leave their liege's side and jeopardize their reputation when confronted with those simple five letters. Such was the power of words.

When they arrived, they would be properly received and urged to enter the Widow's Wail's main hall where Fauvel would wait, in her fine clothes, sitting at the modest throne-like chair that dominated the room. Once they were all inside, the doors would be closed as was customary, but this time they would also be locked and all exits and windows carefully guarded from the outside, discreetly. Her siblings would remain near Magnate Yahn, distanced only in the measure that was necessary to not raise suspicion or cause discomfort. They were to keep an eye on the Captain in case the situation escalated in a way that required physical intervention. Fauvel would not have another Magnate's blood dirtying her halls.

"Welcome, Magnate Yahn. It is a pleasure to receive you in Blood Reign. But I am saddened to say I requested your presence here to deliver terrible news," Her voice was kept even, with the necessary tinge of apprehension and lament as she recounted the horrible fate that had befallen his daughter. She made no mention of the Doctor, the Handmaiden or the Zabrak yet, allowing the news to sink in. "The confort I can offer besides my condolences, is the knowledge that we have worked tirelessly to see the culprits found and chained. It is my wish to present them to you," It was her objective that her words put the Captain of the Guard at ease, thinking that someone else had been condemned for his crimes and he would see the end of the day with no inconveniences.

"But first, it is in your interest to hear what these people have to say." Accompanied by some guards, the Zabrak was brought forward. Just like Fauvel had asked of him, he recounted the events of the night as calmly as he could, leaving no relevant detail out. He emphasized particularly in the description of the golden wristband. By the end he apologized once more for not being able to save the Magnate's daughter, and upon his silence the Doctor was escorted into the hall. He, too, explained his involvement in this gruesome story. And at some point during his explanation the bag with thirty thousand credits was placed on a small table some meters next to Fauvel's chair for all to see.

"I hope you can pardon my daring to ask, Magnate Yahn. But I would like to request your Captain of the Guard to show us his wrists." Fauvel's rose eyes fell upon Captain Pierre like mighty hammers. The last piece to her exposition was the Handmaiden, but she feared her testimony would change upon seeing her lover and this was a small, very small measure of security. Regardless of Magnate Yahn accepting her request or not, the Handmaiden was finally escorted into the hall. Battered and bruised and in chains. Fauvel looked at her, "Tell Magnate Yahn who murdered his daughter, so that we may uncover why." She commanded, gaze burning through the twi'lek.

The High Court of Illyria

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

MAGNATE YAHN​

Tags: Fauvel Astier ​

When finally it was time for the Twi'lek Magnate to travel into Blood Reign, there was an air around him, a grim one. Three speeders pulled in to the complex of Widow's Wail. A number of men began to off-load from the speeders, most of them Twi'leks, though there were some humans sprinkled among them. The group wore thick, navy uniforms with a golden crest on their left shoulder. These men were the personal security team of Magnate Yahn. When it came time for the Twi'lek to show himself, he was an impressive individual. Formerly a renowned businessman on Ryloth, he wore an air of authority around him. He had on a stunning white suit to compliment his deep blue skin,

His entourage remained outside as there would be no need for heightened security in another Magnate's manor. In fact, the only person to accompany him was a human with strong, gruff features. He had curly brown hair and stood several inches higher than the Magnate himself.

The two of them strode into the manor with a confident stride.

"Magnate Astier. How proud I am to be a guest in your home. My thanks." He said, bowing his head respectfully. One of his lekku was loosely fastened over his shoulder in an almost regal manner. As the news came to the Noble that his daughter was slain there was a momentary pause. The Magnate turned his eyes away for a moment as grief struck him. "My...My gods...." He breathed, before burying a head in his hand in disbelief. "How, how has this happened?!" The Magnate's voice took a thunderous tone, reflecting the fury within him.

When the woman spoke next, her words did not only put the Captain of the Guard who stood silently beside the Magnate at ease...but the Magnate himself. When the Zabrack spoke, the Magnate crossed his arms and listened to the man's words, but found them sour to the taste. He waved his hand away from the young boy, paying him little mind. However, as the Doctor was brought forth and the small fortune placed before the Magnate, his eyes turned condemningly to the Captain of the guard. The Captain who shifted back uneasily.

When Fauvel demanded the Captain of the guard show his wrists, the Magnate turned to him, hissing towards his wrists. "Show them, now." He demanded. When the Captain pulled back the cuffs of his jacket, it revealed a shiny golden circlet fastened over his wrist. The Magnate's eyes went wide when he saw the circlet, recognizing it as the token that the others had pointed out. "Captain Pierre...you-"

"Help me!" A voice cried out. Both the Captain and Magnate fell into a stunned silence when the young Twi'lek handmaiden screamed out. Her mind shattered, her will no longer her own, she broke from her captors, her chains cutting into her skin as she fell to the floor just short of the duo. "My love! I did as you bid me, I swear it! I did all you commanded, but I could not bear to die before my eyes laid upon you once more! Please! Please!"

As the Twi'lek woman spoke out, it became expressly apparent that her words were not directed to the Captain of the Guard, but to Magnate Yahn, himself. The aged Twi'lek stood in silence, eyes alight with fury.

"You stupid whore!" He yelled out, kicking the woman away from him with a vicious boot to her chin. "You needed only keep your mouth shut! Then you would have it all! Land, title, but you are a weak fool! Just like my insufferable daughter!" The man screamed out at the woman.​

​

 

[Fauvel Astier]

"Tainted Honor"

A pale eyebrow rose as the Young Lady witnessed the exchange before her. The fire of anger burned within her, this was the type of Lords and Ladies that had immigrated to their planet? Fillicides? Yet another part of her could not help but writhe with joy. Here, in her hall, surrounded by her siblings and her guard stood a criminal of noble blood. There was nothing quite as comforting as watching others fall into the same or even deeper disgrace than the one where she stood. "Detain them, now." Her voice was even as she issued the command. Alain and Tibault took hold of one of the Magnate's arms each, forcing him to his knees as the guards retrieved the Handmaiden back to her place, meters away from her murderous lover. Sanne and Gauthier did the same with the Captain of the Guard, while Sennet moved to stand by Fauvel.

The Lady stood up, her rose gaze falling over the criminals with thunderous judgement. There was still one unanswered question to this mystery. One more piece to the puzzle that needed to be set before all this madness reached its end. Motive. The Magnate had not only had his daughter murdered but three other twi'lek women native to his province, and for some reason he had chosen the city of Blood Reign to commit his crimes. A decision Fauvel was sure he was deeply regretting at the moment. With no rush, causing no commotion, she walked down the three steps of the small stair and advanced towards Yahn.

"You should have known better than to trust those of fickle and vain nature, you cursed fool." Fauvel could not understand why someone would choose the Handmaiden for such a task. She did not have the brawn, she did not have the cunning to lie, her beauty was of no use. And love would always break, eventually, it was either too little and then self-preservation would be victorious...or it was too much, and like the Handmaiden, the selfishness of love would lead to it becoming one's downfall.

"Now speak and tell me why you've done this. The High Court won't ask as kindly as I just have." She claimed, ironic given the painful strain her brother's were putting on the Magnate's shoulders while forcing him to kneel, but still very true. Fauvel wished she could deal with him on her own, make him pay for the upheaval of this past week. But her efforts would be in vain if she just executed him herself. On the other hand, handing him to the Court could help improve her image, at least slightly.

The High Court of Illyria