Faerinn (prime)/What Nehor Heard

What Nehor Heard

Originally posted on the official forums by DIEHLS on 01/11/2020 at 10:19 PM CST.

At the start time for the closed Defenders meeting, Nehor put his calling card to his ear like a seashell, but instead of hearing the sea, Nehor heard Faerinn’s voice rattling off a list of crimes in alphabetical order that Nehor whose recitation he came into halfway.

Another voice Nehor doesn’t recognize cuts in. “I'm not even going to be humoring this. We are redoing our whole...*justice system* this weekend. I don't have time to deal with your slander against our leaders-"

Papers rustle as the clerk returns the forms.

"When its written its libel, but in this case corroborated by a dozen eye witnesses. Look at this letterhead these are official prosecution via citizen forms."

Papers rustle again as Faerinn pushes them back across the desk.

"Please just leave. I don't want to have to talk to the guards again today. "

Rustle.

"Sure, just file these."

Rustle, rustle, as the tug of war continues.

"Sir, please-"

The warmth usually in Faerinn's voice drained out. "I'm not leaving this office until you file this paperwork."

A second voice broke in, "We need you to come along with us, Sir."

A third voice follows, "We don't have to be polite to this mutt!"

"Take your hand off me or I'm keeping it," Faerinn said.

Then there are sounds of scuffling, clothes rustling, a brief grind of metal on metal, and screaming.

A fourth voice comes in that Nehor does not recognize, "That's an officer of the law you're manhandling!" The fourth speaker tries to add admonishment, but is cut off by his brother in arm‘s incoherent screaming.

“Oh, beans, oh, beans, look at Juice’s arm, the way it’s twitching and a thrashing - it’s gonna explode!,” said Guard number 1,” The half-elf's putting a sorcery in his bone! We gotta stand down.”

“Oh, please, oh please Mr. Half-Elf,” ‘Juice’ bellowed. “Don’t disrupt my prize winning wrasslin’ arm! I didn’t mean it! I’m just a product of society and-“

“Oh, it’s just an arm hold,” Faerinn purred the warmth returning to his voice. There’s a sound of paper rustling as Faerinn extracted something from his pocket. “Grit your teeth and read the name on this card, please.”

An awkward moment of silence followed for far too long. “Oh no, can you not read?”

“I can,” Juice countered,”But I’m under a lot of pressure here and you’re putting me on the spot!”

The sound of a pop and a sigh as Faerinn cracks his own neck.

“Ok, y’all! This card says I am here under official Flock business, and your are to render all the assistance you can for my investigation. Now can y’all do that? Do I gotta call the Big Bird himself down to explain this to you?”

“Anything but that!” Beans pleaded. “That would be our whole lunch break!”

“You better do what he says and file those forms, Clerkus,” Trav added.

“That’s not my name- Fine where do I file these under?” Clerkus responded.

“S for Selbi, or B for Birdbrains,” Faerinn suggested.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today, Sir.”

“Yes, give me your coffee mug. “

“Why would you need that?”

“Don’t question the Flockmaster’s business!,” Faerinn shouts and Juice yelps in pain. “I’m requisitioning it for my investigation.”

“Ok-“

“And fill it with all the quills you have on hand.”

The melodic pinging of metal against ceramic sings as the mug is filled.

"Ok, ok!"

The sounds of booted feet scuffing carpet and the clanking of chainmail is heard as Faerinn throws Juice into the other guards tumbling them over.

"You might want to ice that arm. Your buddy has a lot of compression on his ulnar nerve, for some reason, but his arm will return to normal soon." The sound of wood creaking is heard as Faerinn opened the door. "But if not, maybe the Flockmaster will reward your faith with your own magic arm."