Killer Choices

Azog is here at the waystation, walking a horse around the building. Nothing interesting.

Merek seems to be taking a nap in the station, while he has on his loose black attire, waist chain, and his nails are painted in black. He has a blanket which he is using while he's nestled up next to a flame.

Azog is walking his horse around the building, and after completing several laps, he passes the reins to a stableboy. He looks aronud the area and yawns loudly.

Standing beside one of the guards is a young man in leather. His white hair marks him out from the others for few have such a unusual hair coloring, but that's not all that brings attention to him. No his welcoming smile and warmly tinted words that draw others in. Such as the guards that he's talking to. Though they're usually stoically standing there, now they're animated, talking to the young man. "And that's when he said 'Son you don't want to know Joe!'"

The man and guards laugh together at the joke that only someone who had been listening to the whole story could have understood. "Well, you guys have a good day. I don't want to keep you from your duties too long. Say hello to your family for me won't you Marcus?" He nods at the affirmation he receives and heads away from the guards with a warm smile on his face.

Braelnoir continues a run as she had before in full kit, carrying the scythe ahead of her in both hands, parallel to the ground with the blade off to one side. The differences from that past run are a notable discomfort in her expression and the slight hitch in her step that indicates it may be injury, rather than effort that so troubles her. She slows as she draws near the waystation again, noting the persons about in passing, though she drifts toward a dark stain in the grass nearby.

Azog will run up alongside Braelnoir, who he met just the other day, and run alongside her despite his plate armor. It does not seem to slow him appreciably. "Don't run like that," he recommends, hauling the two-handed earthbreaker from over his shoulder. It's a weapon similar in size, at least, to the scythe. He carries it in one hand, just a smidgen forward of the center of balance, and pumps his arms as he runs. "Like this," he says, "your pace is more natural and you will be able to run farther."

Menel watches the two people running along the road and arches an eyebrow. He notices them slowing down a bit and moves so that he can join them where they seem likely to stop. "Hello! Is there a running competition I didn't know about?" The pale-haired man grins brightly at the suggestion.

Azog peers as Menel joins the running group, and says, "Life is a competition. Only the strongest survive. This is a part of preparation for that." He does not stop where Menel expected. He keeps going. And going.

Braelnoir glances at her acquaintance from the other night. The intonation reminds her of an old Sergeant she trained under and so she adjusts her grip almost automatically. There are a couple of paces and a, "Hello, again." she says thoughtfully, "Something's hap-!" The new fellow so jovially joining them derails her train of thought a moment and she blinks at him in surprise, but agrees with Azog, essentially summing it up as "Training."

The swordsman who bears a sword on either hip to mark him as such shrugs and picks up pace with the other two. Menel keeps pace with Braelnoir easily enough, his steps light and graceful in spite of his size. "I hope you don't mind me joining you then, I enjoy a bit of good training myself." His voice shows none of the strain of running, but then he's only just begun.

Merek lightly curls up into his blanket while he listens to people.

Azog nods to Braelnoir, and agrees, "This is Alexandria. Something is always happening. It is the nature of the place." He nods. "What has you concerned?" It -could- be something important. But Azog seems skeptical. He nods to Menel, and says, "I am Azog of the Lightning Maul tribe. It is good to have you run with us."

Braelnoir's pace, admittedly, won't strain many of roughly mankind's stride as her armor constrains her so. The smaller races, less burdened would likely keep pace with her as she is, "I'm Braelnoir. Nice t'meet ya." she affirms with a smile, polite, but thoughtful, before Azog's question regains her attention, "I think I had a visit about..." and her free hand gently pats the lower section of her breastplate.

"Menel Dinmorin." The name might ring a bell even if his countenance does not. In fact looking at him, he does look familiar. Perhaps that explains his familiar attitude toward them. Menel's blue eyes flicker to where Braelnoir motions and admittedly looks confused. "Pardon? A visit about what?"

Azog looks confused at Braelnoir, though he doesn't break his pace. "You had a problem with your lunch?" he wonders at the strange pantomime. Also, he's bad with clues. His heavy accent hints that it might be a comprehension problem, but he also is not swift on the uptake generally. No look of recognition passes between Azog and Menel.

"Ha!" Brae gives a quick laugh at that, which promptly turns into a winced misstep as her belly apparently is still displeased, well, more the area around her stomach, though truly it's not happy, either. The humor brings her a little out of her odd funk at least for the moment, then, she looks at Menel a moment, then, "About the fight."

"The fight? Did you get injured in a fight?" Menel is politely curious, but curious nonetheless. His blue eyes keep flickering toward Azog and it's clear that he at least is familiar with the other man. Even if Azog isn't familiar with him.

Azog ohs to Braelnoir, and says, "My second guess was that you were pregnant. I cannot help with that." He nods gravely. "As for injury, the Temple of the Lady of the Stars," the oruch name for Althea, "can help, perhaps." He nods. A growing suspicion is in the back of Azog's head about Menel, but he was sufficiently out of it at the time his memories are hazy. "It is good to meet you again," he says.

Braelnoir is better at subtle than she thought. Hmm. Worth chewing on later, perhaps. The inquiry from the pale haired man prompts her to answer, "No, I didn't, but I did hurt someone pretty bad." Pretty bad is rather an understatement, but, "Today I hurt where I hit him." Then, Azog chimes in and she visibly suppresses another laugh, "Fair point."

Menel grins broadly at Azog. "I thought maybe you forgot, but yes it's nice to see you up and about." He returns his attention to Braelnoir however, since she answered his question so politely. "Sympathetic pain perhaps. It happens when you hurt someone you feel close to." He seems to know something of what he says.

Azog looks puzzled at Braelnoir, then nods at what Menel says, but says, "You should feel no guilt. Had you not done what you did, the villain would have escaped, and Chay would be dead anyhow. He came to kill him, he said, so the guilt is not yours."

Braelnoir frowns a little, and lays it on the table, "I had a dream. Got't in the guts like Chay. Then I'm in a feasthall with the one who stuck me..." Then she pulls something from one of her pouches, a tricky feet at such a brisk pace, and holds up a fancy ring, "Woke up to pain... then..." ahem, "Coughed this up..."

The swordsman blanches at Azog's words, his pace slowing for a bit before he quickly catches up. Menel seems at several points about to say something, but he remains silent while Braelnoir speaks. Even so there is a torn expression written across his features. "Magic? I assume that you didn't eat a ring at some point. Perhaps you should take it to a priest to be identified."

Azog peers at the ring. "If you eat those before you go to sleep, I am not surprised you woke up in pain." He never assumes anything, and people in this town sometimes do things he does not expect.

"It ain't a habit, no." Brae replies, putting the ring back into her pouch, "Had some bread, little bit of stew an'... I think all the ale I drank last night weighed more'n I do. In full harness. No rings, though."

"All the more reason to find someone who knows why it was inside you. I can't say that I trust magic very much, so that's my suggestion." Menel nods once eyeing the ring sideways.

Azog nods about going to the priests. "Definitely strange," he agrees. "and with strange things in the city already, it may be worth investigating."

Braelnoir nods at that and affirms, "I will. First time I had weird in bed."

Menel nods again. "Good." He pauses and looks between the two. "Chay... that wouldn't be the sith-makar named Chay would it?"

Azog nods. "That's the one. An assassin struck him down, then tried to use him as a shield. There was no other way to bring down the assassin. Had we not, he would have carried Chay off and we would not have a body to resurrect."

Braelnoir lets Azog explain it, with only a nod for confirmation. She knows it, but it's still nice to hear. She's still a Korite struggling with having to kill a helpless noncombatant, and a friend, besides, but, still, Rez!

The swordsman looks pained for a moment, his face turning aside to hide his emotion but after a long moment he turns back. "He was resurrected then? I should... I should pay him my respects. He has done a lot for me since my return to Alexandria." His eyes flicker toward Braelnoir. "Azog makes his point, but I for one think that there must have been a way that didn't end with Chay's death. Perhaps this other person would have killed him or not. You can't control someone else's actions but you can your own."

It's an odd day when a Korite is more concerned with life than an Angorite is. Azog, still running, sweating profusely, says, "No, we were in a situation with limited options. No one of us could have done any more than we did. It is a mistake of apologists to think there is more that can be done. Sometimes there is, but sometimes there is not."

She probably isn't the best Korite, but she tries. She looks to Menel at his rejoinder and, "He wanted Chay dead, but wouldn't do it outright, he tried to make a -game- of it. If we let him go, Chay might have been days dyin' in agony, wondering why he was alone."

"May have, might have." Menel shakes his head. "Even given limited options I could not choose to kill someone. Life is far to valuable for that. Even if he /had/ made off with Chay..." Menel looks aside, slightly up at the blue sky above them. "I can not become comfortable with death. I can not take a life when there is /any/ other option, and there is always another way." His blue eyes fall to Braelnoir's and they're as blue as the sky. Despite his words there's no judgement there, but rather a sort of beseeching. A desire for her, for both of them really, to understand.

Azog nods at what Braelnoir says. "She at least gave him a clean death and a chance at rebirth. One he may not have had, had the villain had his way. -And- we captured the villain. So I think the good outweighs the bad." He shrugs at Menel. "You say there must have been another way, but your words mean nothing. You were not there. You did not see what we did. And your words cast guilt on the blameless. You may think yourself just, but for that, I name -you- a villain. You do an injustice to cast blame without even having been there."

With that, Brae's gait comes to an abrupt halt, and the butt of her scyth thumps into the dirt, "Tell me, then!" she snaps, incensed. "In a moment, time for one action, tell me how to block a teleport and disable a man who can thrust a half dozen times with a poison dagger while he's trying to drag off -your- friend who's poisoned, unconscious and possibly bleeding to death!"

Menel stops with Braelnoir. The tirade set against him by both Azog and Braelnoir. His mien is more serious however, showing that he's not just a man of smiles but one of serious thought as well. "Call me a villain if you will for the crime of refusing to take a life. I know that I was not there, but I know just as surely what I would not do. If I were a man who killed so that others might evade..." He stops here and his eyes grow dark; haunted even. "Whatever fate awaits them then my hands would be littered with blood and you Azog would be among the dead never to return."

The swordsmans's words are gentle still, patient. "As for your situation... I can only say what I would /not/ have done. I would not have killed. Strike the killer; cut off his hand. Let him teleport away to be dealt with another day. One can not teleport away the unwilling so easily after all. All he could have done was walk away leaving you a trail to follow if he meant to take Chay. There is /always/ a way."

He holds up a forstalling hand to keep from being suddenly interrupted now. "No, I know I was not there. Thus I can only say as I said before. I would not have killed Chay. I would not have killed anyone. It is a choice I choose to live by and though it has cost me time and again my own flesh and blood I would never take back that decision."

Azog shrugs dismissively to Menel as he states his case. "You were not there. Your speculation is meaningless and only hurts those who tried to help. There is no good to your line of speculation, so I will ignore it, and ignore you." To Braelnoir, he says, "And this is why I did not do what you did. Not because I did not wish to fight, but because the flack you get from second-guessers is not worth the effort."

The woman seethes there for a few, then shoulders her weapon and turns, "Then you wouldn't, fine." She takes a few steps, "Bollocks!" and decides she's no longer fond enough of this place to do her constitutionals here, anymore. Time to go find that priest....

Menel puts his hands up and shrugs. "As you will. I didn't mean to cause an argument. Only..." He sighs and shakes his head. "I'll be on my way." With that he turns and strides away. His steps no longer as happy as they had been though his stride is no less graceful.

-End