"Fahlnem Elenvaul. You have been charged with attempted poisoning of Queen Sinace with..." Queen Lana paused, arching her brow. "...carrots, which she is fatally allergic to. How do you plead?"

Fahlnem shrugged, feeling entirely justified in his actions. "What's the punishment gonna be if I confess guilt?"

"If you plead guilty, you will be quickly executed."

"And if I plead innocence?"

"If you plead innocence but are found to be guilty, you will be placed in a maximum lockup cell with minimal food and water, and no sunlight, pending execution."

"Easy choice. Innocent."

Lana sighed disappointedly. "I somehow knew you would go that route, Fahlnem." She gestured for the current guard captain, the Queen's lover, to take Fahlnem away. Once they were out of earshot of the court, the female captain inquired.

"We both know you did it."

"And I feel incredible about it. Not going to change my mind." The captain stopped at a deep cell, opening the door and shoving Fahlnem in. It was only a few feet, but he'd feel that for a few days. She locked the door behind him.

"I can't help but respect the solidarity, but I hope you rot." She peered in through the head-height bars in the door.

Alabaster, the strongest Pale Spear and personal guard of the Crowns, backhanded Fahlnem into a wall.

"Agh... Fuck. Are you even an Elf?" Fahlnem wiped blood from his nose, leaning against the far wall of the courtroom. The Violet Crowns watched expressionless, and Fahlnem couldn't tell what Forgo was thinking on the other side of that ghostly helmet. The two newer Spears had left the room, but Fahlnem wasn't sure when.

"Forgo?" He had repositioned where Fahlnem's current assailant had been standing, between the two Crowns. He held Alabaster's spear along with his own. "Any advice?"

No response. Fahlnem put up his fists with a smirk, sizing Alabaster up. "C'mon. You're bitchmade compared to me."

Fahlnem was flung against a pillar. He heard something crack. It wasn't the pillar.

He groaned, sitting up as the Longest Spear menacingly approached. His taunting grin widened after he spat up blood.

"Last chance, pal. I'll give you one more free hit before I bring out the guns." He flexed his right arm, winking at Alabaster.

Alabaster flung his knee into the Pyromancer's nose, illiciting an irritated groan, before grabbing him by the arm and launching him back to the center of the room in front of the Crowns and Forgo, the tenth Spear.

Fahlnem forced himself to his feet, mumbling under his breath. "Mh... that was two, fucker." He began backing away from the approaching Alabaster, briefly contemplating what sort of spell to use. He had no intention of letting this roid-Elf beat his ass just to purge 'sin.' Fahlnem decided on something underhanded in an attempt at setting Alabaster off or getting some sort of response out of the guy. The Pyromancer pulled from his mana pool, making bizarre hand movements like grandiosely pointing at the Longest Spear or Forgo while speaking.

"Is this guy normally this quiet, Forgo? He's giving me predatorial vibes. Like, not in the literal sense- well, in the literal sense, but not the typical sense. Like the sexual sense. As in, he gives me sexual predator tension. Triggers my fight-or-flight, sorta thing."

Once Alabaster had stepped firmly into Fahlnem's established field of mana, the Pyromancer stopped and, with a smirk, clapped his fingers together. "Smolder."

Fahlnem wasn't sure how long he had been in the cell. He rarely got more than a few words out of the guard attending his cell, and he was quickly becoming malnourished. Nobody would tell him how long he had left until he could get out. He refused to ask for death. I wonder if Kali or Ciron are worried about me. I forgot to ask Lana what would happen to the Wench. Bitchace has probably already changed it back to the Crowned Cat and run it into the ground. He had lots of time to think down in the cell. I wonder if-

The door opened. He scrambled to his feet, running a frantic hand through his hair to pull it all off of his forehead. A grizzled, middle-age man resembling a common huntsman stood in the doorway of the cell. Fahlnem recognized the man as Ducatti Wulfic of King's Watch. He knew little of the man, but he was supposedly made famous during the War for Eldham. He was king here for a while, I think.

Wulfic spoke.

"You're free, Fahlnem. I bailed you out." The man held little emotion, but it was still apparent that there was a catch. "You are still exiled, though." Yep. There's the catch. He doesn't talk like the scruffy veteran he looks like.

"Where am I supposed to go?" Fahlnem approached the rope ladder to climb up to the cell entrance.

"King's Watch. Your friends are waiting outside to say goodbye. They can come see you, but you will be starting fresh. No Fiery Wench this time."

Fahlnem thrust his fists in the air triumphantly, glancing around the smoke and flying chunks of scorched marble at the Violet Crown duo. "Woo! You see that, clit-suckers?!"

The shadow of a dark figure stood alone in the clearing smoke, ruining Fahlnem's celebration. Alabaster was almost entirely untouched by the attack. And he was probably pissed.

"You will find it nigh-impossible to defeat our Alabaster, the Longest Spear. The strongest out of the eighteen. And now you have violated the terms of the baptism." Alabaster continued his approach, now walking faster and with more resolve. He dangled his stopwatch below the wrist, and pressed down on the little button on its head. It started to count the seconds going by. The hell's up with that? He repeated the question aloud, this time. "Forgo? Why's the stopwatch going now?"

Forgo spoke up for the first time since they entered the courtroom. "Each stopwatch counted the seconds until he killed his previous warlock targets. You fought back, so now he's supposed to kill you."

"Can I just... waste time? Let the stopwatch run out or something?" Fahlnem began weaving out of Alabaster's attack range, snapping his fingers and illiciting small remote combustions where he guessed the Spear's armor might be more vulnerable. None of them seemed to do much more than char the armor, slowly covering the warrior in charcoal pigment.

"I doubt it works that way."

Unlike other large fellows that Fahlnem had fought, Alabaster still just barely had an advantage over the Pyromancer's own speed. And he had already proven that underhanded, overpowered attacks didn't work. "Any suggestions on how to beat his ass?"

Forgo didn't answer. Surprise, surprise.

Fahlnem, in an attempt at making a bold move, tried to bait out a horizontal swing from Alabaster. Nope, not a jab. He noticed with each attack that Alabaster was very clearly holding back before. Any of these punches would either K.O. him or kill him immediately. Back in the day, he would have ran. What's the point of all this power if I only use it when I know I'll win? Another roundhouse kick. At least his moves are more Elven. That power, though.

Boom. A haymaker, aimed right for Fahlnem's face. He figured it would be easier to take advantage of an attack that used more of the chest and back than just shoulders. Narrowly slinking underneath the monster's arm, Fahlnem pressed his hand up against the curve right below the armpit of his opponent, shoving a large amount of mana through his arm. A spear of flame erupted from his palm, grounding itself into Alabaster's side before exploding with flames of adjudication, launching Fahlnem a good ten meters away; half of which was spent just sliding on his back across the slick marble. No effect. Alright. Time to call it quits. This guy's gonna kill me if I don't go kick it somewhere else.

"Listen," Alabaster, now draped in soot, broke into a run after the Pyromancer. "this has been great. Really. But I'm out." He slung a fireball over Alabaster's head, snapping his fingers and sprinting toward the door. The fireball hypercompressed itself before quickly expanding in a blinding light. The spell was fairly effective at discombobulating opponents and temporarily blinding them under normal circumstances, let alone the reflective bastards on the throne. This gave him enough time to make it halfway across the courtroom, extending a hand toward the oversized door. An invisible tendril of mana reached out, slithering in between the door's cracks and exploding- this was how he typically executed his remote combustion spells. The door flew open with a barrage of splinters and chunks of Scorium.

Fahlnem's house in King's Watch was... nice. Humble. He was excited to redecorate, and the neighborhood was quiet and exuded more Elven vibes than Eldham ever did, despite his new home consisting exclusively of Human government. When he left Eldham, Ciron said he would visit, and Kali had nowhere else to go but follow Fahlnem, so he wondered if his life would be better there anyway. Supposedly, another Elf had just recently moved into an old church across the river behind Fahlnem's house, too. Never really interacted with neighbors before. Could be fun.

At that stage in Fahlnem's life, he wasn't much used to excitement. He wasn't a fighter, and he had no inherent magical skill. He rarely attended expeditions into the wild, like Blueboy, who also moved to King's Watch with him. Fahlnem truly wasn't all that bummed about losing the Wench; he still didn't ask what Sinace had done to it, and he wasn't sure that he cared. It felt euphoric to have friends that were pulling for him and also disagreed with Eldham's leadership at the time. That said, life in King's Watch suited him fine enough.

Fahlnem made his way down the street, turning a corner one house down from his and crossing a quaint bridge over the river. He adored the scenery there. Trees dotted the plains surrounding the city, with dense forests lying in wait beyond that. Fahlnem passed a rumbling waterwheel before making a harsh left turn to the old church. A fellow Elf stepped out, closing the door behind himself before noticing the far younger and more high-blooded Fahlnem standing at the base of the steps. "Er... Hello," Fahlnem beamed.

"Good afternoon. Have we met?" The older Elf made his way down the steps to be at eye level, a courteous smile forming across his lips.

"Only just now." Fahlnem extended his right hand for shaking, maintaining his left behind his back. "Fahlnem Elenvaul, at your service."

"Argus Irythil, at yours."

Fahlnem sprinted through the city, his arms raised up to his chest. He was always good at running. He never fancied himself to shy away from fights, but... That guy was weird anyway. We don't tussle with creeps. What if he tried to take advantage of me? Fuck that. He chuckled to himself awkwardly between heavy, exasperated breaths. He took a quick look behind him, with no sign of any pursuing assailant. He took this opportunity to slow down a bit and preserve his stamina. If someone had chased after him, he had enough mana left to at least slow them down. I need my shit. He meant his 'equipment.'