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Dreezil Pocketdip Vindicated
Carson moved up to the witness area and stood quietly. The judge nodded at him and said, "You know tha' you mus' speak th' truth, 'ere, an' nothin' else, righ'?" Carson frowned up at the judge, but only nodded his compliance. Judge Wiggins smiled blearily and ducked down under his desk for a moment. Carson's frown made an upside-down "V" in the skin over his nose. Firiona stepped in front of Carson, distracting him. "Carson McCabe, do you recall the occasion on which you first saw the defendant?" Carson nodded, "Yes, milady, the defendant was brought before me by Guards Heptal and Nonet, along with the contraband stout. They brought him before me and showed me the evidence, at which time I sent him to be locked up in a cell." "And did he make no protest?" "Well, certainly, Firiona, what criminal doesn't protest his own innocence?" McCabe chuckled at this observation. "Naturally, he said he was innocent. But, the evidence was right there in front of us. He'd been caught red-handed, as it were." "What did he say in his own defense, milord?" "Why... er... I don't quite recall..." McCabe floundered for a moment. "I believe it was merely a protestation of innocence, no real details." "Isn't it true that you didn't stop to listen to his story at all?" Firiona smiled sweetly at Carson McCabe. "That you had him sent to the dungeon without hearing his story?" McCabe sputtered, his face growing red. "Why, I don't know how you feel you can stand there and accuse me of such injustice, Firiona! You know me better than that!" "And yet, Dreezil Pocketdip, an acknowledged member of the Deeppockets guild, was sent to the dungeons and you are unable to recount for us the defendant's explanation. Is that a fair assessment?" "Well, er... yes. But after all, what more would I need beyond seeing the evidence? I mean, he is a rogue, after all. Why should I lend credence to his tale?" The judge hiccuped loudly and disappeared under his bench, this time for almost three minutes. Firiona paced in front of Carson while she waited for the judge to sit up straight again. She looked up at him and noted with some satisfaction that his nose was beginning to look very red. "Now then, milord," Firiona turned back to Carson McCabe, "what sentence did you impose on the defendant?" Carson blinked, several times. "Sentence? I had actually not pronounced any particular...er... period of time... that is to say... well... I just had him thrown into the dungeons. I hadn't considered letting him go just yet." "Then what happened was that you put Dreezil into a cell without giving him an opportunity to defend himself, and without knowing when, if ever, he might be released?" Carson's face was, by this time, nearly as red as Judge Wiggins', though not for the same reasons. The judge, by this time, was weaving slightly from side to side as he sat on the bench. His round face was frozen in a beatific smile and his eyes watered slightly as he beamed down on the courtroom. Carson jumped up, stamped his foot angrily and shouted at Firiona, "How can you accuse me this way, milady? I will not sit here and be insulted so! Why, this..." Judge Wiggins interrupted with an even louder, if somewhat slurred, voice, "Sharrup! Orr'er in th' Court! Siddown an' sharrup, McCabe! Lissen t' th' lady talk, why doncha...? The judge's voice trailed off as a smile once more settled over his features and he folded his arms comfortably on the bench before him. Carson sat down as if his legs suddenly refused to hold him up. He sat, stunned, staring at the judge, who disappeared again behind the bench for a moment. Firiona grinned to herself. She looked over at Dreezil encouragingly. Dreezil was stunned and amused. He could see the rosy glow on the judge's face as clearly as anyone in the courtroom could. He stifled a snicker, thinking how Carson had agreed to abide by Wiggins' decision. Not wishing to anger McCabe, however, he straightened himself and composed his features. "Thank you, your Honor," smiled Firiona. The judge grinned back and lowered his chin to rest on his wrists, his eyelids drooping just slightly. He winked at Firiona once and settled in to listen. "Carson McCabe, is it normally your practice to assume the guilt of a person before even examining the evidence?" Carson sputtered angrily, not even noticing when Judge Wiggins slipped down behind the desk. "Firiona! How could you? You know me much better than that." "Yes, Carson, and I have always known you to be fair. I have never known you to take anything at face value. Perhaps the case you saw was not a case of Blackburrow Stout, though, could that be possible?" "Why... "Carson's brow furrowed. "It had the distinctive markings, and was filled with the very bottles the Blackburrow gnolls are famed for using. I don't know how it could be anything else!" "Did you examine the contents of those bottles, McCabe?" "I did not..." Carson's brow smoothed out and he looked just a bit resigned. "No, Firiona, I'm afraid I neglected to even determine if they were full or empty." Carson raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. He smiled weakly. "Then you don't truly know what was in the case, is that correct?" "Yes, Firiona, that is correct." Carson's sheepish expression fitted him oddly. Firiona smiled at her friend. "Perhaps we should take a look at the evidence at this time. Your Honor..." Firiona looked up at the empty bench. "Your Honor?" Firiona approached the bench and walked around it to the side where the case of stout had been resting. The judge suddenly appeared above the desk, red-faced and grinning widely. "Yesh, what izh it?" The judge slurred amiably. "Oh... yesh.. edivence. Yesh... here you go, Finiroa... Rinifoa... er... Faryena, whatever yer name is." He reached down and lifted up the wooden box, which rattled loudly. Firiona quickly grabbed it, fearing it would fall. She placed it atop the desk and looked it over. Only three of the bottles remained intact. All the others had been opened and emptied. She peered up at the judge, her expression bland. She picked up the heavy wooden case again and carried it over to Carson. "Is this the case you saw the defendant carrying?" "Well, no, I didn't see him with it myself, but the guards who arrested it brought it to me directly." "Oh? So they saw him carrying it, did they?" "So they indicated to me, yes." Firiona carried the box over to Dreezil and laid it on the ground near him. It was easy to see that the halfling would have had a difficult time carrying even a few full ceramic bottles of the potent brew in a heavy wooden box like this one. "Your Honor, may I request that the defendant be unshackled, please?" Arvelion frowned unhappily and began to whisper noisily." "Sharrup, you!" The judge yelled at the chamberlain. "Yes, Feery-owna," he pronounced carefully, "you may. Guard! Unlock th' pris'ner." "Thank you, your Honor. Now then, Dreezil," Firiona said to the halfling as he rubbed his wrists gingerly, "please pick up the crate for me, if you would?" Dreezil bent his knees and tried to reach the sides of the box lengthwise, but his short arms just didn't reach. He turned the box sideways and tried to grab it from one end. His arms didn't quite reach to its middle, but he managed to stand with the box in front of him. Firiona took one of the three full bottles from the end nearest Dreezil and replaced it in the other end. The wooden case tipped forward and Dreezil almost dropped it. He leaned back precariously to balance. "Your Honor, I think it's clear that Dreezil didn't carry this box filled with full bottles of Blackburrow stout. As you can see, with less than half the weight of the box on the far end, Dreezil is barely able to balance it. The weight of this box is obviously too much for him to have carried any distance." Firiona turned to the jury and pointed at Dreezil, red-faced and puffing a bit at the weight he was holding. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm certain you can see that this halfling could not very well have carried this box full of the distinctive ceramic bottles of Blackburrow stout. And I am about to show you something I have learned that may surprise you. Sionachie, if you would, please bring me the additional evidence." Firiona turned to her friend, who stood calmly near the doors. Sionachie hitched up a leather sack, the sight of which brought a look of horror to the face of both Heptal and Nonet, sitting there in the front of the courtroom. The half-elf bard carried the bag to Firiona and returned to her place near the doors. Firiona lifted the bag, clinking with bottles, and rested it on the table in front of her. She spoke clearly in the room. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this bag was found in the quarters of the two guards seated behind the chamberlain." She turned and pointed at both Heptal and Nonet. "It was found there just this morning, by my friend, Sionachie Heartsinger, after the guards had left for the courtroom. I'd like you to take a look at what is inside." Firiona opened the bag and held it out so that the jurors could see the ceramic bottles of Blackburrow stout inside. The jurors gasped and muttered among themselves as they considered the meaning of this development. Twelve pairs of eyes turned to the two guards, who sat there fidgeting as the paladin continued. "You will notice that these bottles appear to be of exactly the same type as the ones in the wooden case that Dreezil is holding. They bear the stamp, in the gnollish script, of Blackburrow, as do the others. As to what is inside them, I invite you to determine that for yourselves." Firiona held out the bag to the jurors and offered each a bottle of the creamy brown brew. She smiled softly as she watched them helping each other open the bottles and taste the contents. With twelve of the remaining bottles gone, the sack was considerably lighter. She offered the last few to the judge, Carson and Arvelion. When the latter refused, she drank the last bottle herself. "Well, now that you've tried the drink, what would you say it was?" Firiona turned to the first juror, who answered, "Blackburrow stout!" Firiona smiled. "And you?" Firiona asked the next. He answered likewise. "Carson, what is your assessment?" He turned to her and replied, "Why, the jurors have already told you, Blackburrow stout." "I find it extremely interesting, your Honor, that so many of these jurors and Carson McCabe himself have tasted enough of a contraband brew that they are able to identify it so easily." Firiona allowed herself the ghost of a smirk as the judge chortled. Carson's face darkened slightly, but Firiona smiled at him. "Don't worry, Carson, I understand that you've traveled extensively, and to be honest, this is a very distinctive flavor. Having tasted it once, you'd recognize it easily again, I'm sure." Carson relaxed slightly and Firiona went on. "The thing is here, your Honor, that there were many more bottles originally taken than the ones produced here as evidence. Apparently Guards Heptal and Nonet had the rest stashed in their quarters. I think we're pretty much agreed that the brew within them is, in fact, Blackburrow Stout. Perhaps we should turn to the defendant to learn from him exactly what happened? "Dreezil, you may put the box down," Firiona smiled at the halfling lad. "Now then, Dreezil, on your oath to the Deeppockets, please tell us how you came by the stout?" Judge Wiggins burped loudly as Dreezil began his testimony, having finished off his bottle of stout, wiped his mouth on the back of one forearm and settled himself comfortably to listen. "I'd seen those two in th' woods, Firiona, er... milady. They were drinkin' th' stout, ye know. Gunrich, a goblin I know in the Misty Thicket, he told me they'd beaten him for it. Robb'd him, they did. I track'd them back t' where they were campin', milady, an' watch'd 'em drink 'emselves silly. They went t' sleep an' I took what was left in that sack. Brought it back 'ere, thinkin' I was gonna get meself a reward f'r it, ye know. But b'fore I could turn it in, they caught up t' me an' grabb'd me. They made t' bring me t' Carson, but stopp'd on th' way an' pulled out one o' their cases, fillin' it from me sack. They left th' rest in their quarters, ye know. I tried t' tell 'im, milady, but 'e wouldnae listen t' me." Dreezil ran out of breath near the end of his declaration and stood there panting softly. Carson looked over at his two guards, who recognized the look of accusation in his eyes and bolted for the doors. They shoved Sionachie harshly out of the way and burst through the doors to escape. "After them!" shouted Carson McCabe. "Guards! Go to their quarters and don't let anyone enter them until I've had them searched!" Several guards and onlookers chased out of the courtroom after the two guards. The judge stood and shouted for the jury to remain seated, and then promptly lost his balance and sat down, hard. Firiona stepped up to the jury and addressed them. "You see, ladies and gentlemen, the guards Nonet and Heptal have been heavily involved in the smuggling for quite some time. Other bags found in their rooms," she said as she gestured Sionachie forward, carrying several small bags, "contained large amounts of gold. It seems that they were making a fairly good sideline out of smuggling, too. I don't think it would be out of line for me to offer you this gold as recompense for your work here today, ladies and gentlemen. To make up for what you have lost in wages, having left your own trades to come here and assist us in learning the truth." Firiona handed a small bag of gold to each juror and then turned back to the judge. Furley was weaving back and forth and smiling happily on the bench as he looked down at Firiona. He put his chin on one palm, resting the elbow on the desk, so he could focus on her. "S'ank you, Feeny... Feery-owna," he slurred, "you did a jate grob... er... jood gob... um... Nice work!" He looked around at the courtroom and once again banged his knife hilt on the desktop, declaring, "Releash the pris'ner! He's issonent, er... innocent! Let 'im go. Thish court is adjourn'd!" He climbed down from his bench and weaved across the room, where the onlookers, Firiona, and Carson were milling around. "Carshon," the judge eyed him blearily, "you make sure to put thozhe guardsh of yourzh in that shame shell that Dreezhil was in, you hear?" He nodded as if he knew something very important, then smiled at Firiona. "Me lady, you come to Rivervale any time you want. I'll zhow you aroun', don'chyou worry." Firiona chuckled softly and shook the judge's hand. "Milady Firiona, my apologies," said Carson McCabe to the paladin as the judge ambled away. "I will be more careful whom I trust without examining evidence for myself in future, of that you can be sure." "Thank you, Carson, that is all anyone can ask of you." She smiled at him warmly. "And I hope you will handsomely reward those who return the guards to you as well." "You can rest assured, Milady, it is worth a great deal to me to have such criminals apprehended. To think how long this may have been going on. I'm shocked, but very glad you've helped to root out this evil. You have my gratitude." He took Firiona's hand and bowed low over it. She smiled and headed off to her rooms with Sionachie. Hours later, McCabe offered additional bags of gold and a jewel apiece to those who had accompanied his guards to apprehend the smugglers. Arvelion grumbled, but brought out huge pitchers of ale for all and they drank merrily long into the night.
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