<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #376534"><span style="font-style: italic">Ơ̫͎̞̳̹p̶̼̕e̺̗̤͢͞n̶͔͈̪͍̮͜͢ ͖͙̝͝S͈̭̙̫͓̪͜e̷̴̗͕̝͘a͕̲͓̼̭̖̬̣͠s̪̩͉̲͓̹͙̩o̘̘͕͖͙̺͟͞ͅͅͅn̵̡̰̗͠</span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="color: #376534">▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family: Blackadder ITC;"><span style="font-size: 175%; line-height: 116%;">Keira Grauwald</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">The noise from the town square was impossible for her to miss from inside the 'Chicken &amp; Axe', where she was serving beer to Justus, an old man that had been the same age since the dawn of time, as far as she knew. He never seemed to age, and no one had any real recollection of him looking any younger than he did now, with his long, gray beard and bushy brows under the black, wide-brimmed hat he always wore. Justus glanced outside the windows behind him - the source of the hubbub was apparent right away.<br/><br/>"Another hanging," he muttered - he always muttered - and took a long drink from the clay tankard he'd been given. Keira sighed.<br/><br/>"Can you see who it is?" She prompted, but did not need to wait for an answer before the culprit was hustled right by outside. It felt like Keira's stomach plummeted to the ground. <span style="font-style: italic">Eliza.</span> The talented tailor was the last person Keira would suspect of any crime, and yet there she was, positively frothing at the mouth with anger; her hair had come loose from its elegant bun, her face sported an impressive black eye, and her hands were tied behind her back. Along with the hooded executioner, Eliza went up the thirteen steps of the gallows to face the judge, Edwin Earle. Seeing Edwin there, his eyes cold with rightful anger, made Keira's insides turn. Over the furious crowd, she couldn't clearly hear what he yelled but it didn't matter. She knew the words well enough.<br/><br/>Eliza spat at Edwin's face, and he nodded to the executioner. Keira pointedly averted her gaze from the window, but the cheers outside could not drown out the <span style="font-style: italic">thwack</span> and Eliza's screams as her left hand was cut off. The left hand was the hand of witchcraft, everyone knew that, and though all would be forgiven by the Mother in the afterlife, it wouldn't do to bring Evil so indiscriminately into her garden. Thus, before being hanged, all witches had their left hand cut off, and it was burned and the ashes buried with them.<br/><br/>"I can't believe it," said Keira to Justus, as she stared, transfixed, at Eliza's swinging body. "She always helped me with my dresses. Even patched up my Sunday dress for me, free of charge, after I'd tripped outside her door on a basket of yarn she'd forgotten to bring in."<br/><br/>"She was sweet," Justus agreed. "Just goes to show you can't rightly trust anyone."</div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #376534">▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼</span><br/><br/><span style="font-family: Blackadder ITC;"><span style="font-size: 175%; line-height: 116%;">Simon Hamswick</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Simon stood transfixed at the outer rim of the town square. The chestnut mare beside him tossed her head in response to the seething crowd. <br/><br/>"... of witchcraft, leading to the untimely and tragic deaths of seamstress Mattie Hayres and her unborn child, you are to be hanged from your neck until dead. Do you deny these accusations?" Echoed the deep voice of judge Edwin Earle over the square, as he read from a roll of parchment. It was hard to tell who looked more furious, him or the tailor with the noose around her neck. But where Edwin's face expressed a cold sort of anger, Eliza made no such effort to conceal her feelings. She spat him in the face, and the crowd <span style="font-style: italic">oooo</span>'ed in horror.<br/><br/>"You'll rot for this!" She screamed. "They all will, you and her and the baby, too! I didn't have anything to do with that whore's death, but I wish I did! Too bad the Mother gave her feet big enough to fall into the well over right from the start!"<br/><br/>Simon patted his mare absentmindedly. His mother had her hand clapped over her mouth, and shook her head sadly.<br/><br/>"She fixed my mother's wedding dress for me to wear, y'know," Emma told her son. "Made some more little flowers on it and all. Never would've thought she'd kill someone in cold blood."<br/><br/>"Didn't that Hayres girl fuck her husband?" Grumbled Thomas, Simon's father, who was standing with two more horses in tow. Emma looked appalled. <br/><br/>"That's no reason to kill a baby!"<br/><br/>"I would've done the same, had I been Eliza," replied Thomas quietly, and his wife shook her head.<br/><br/>Simon found it hard to correlate a woman who'd make more flowers on a dress with the body now swinging in the near distance. He really did not want to think that she had really done it. But what did he know? The judge didn't just go around hanging people; that made no sense. Surely, everyone including the judge had good reason to believe that Eliza was a witch, and should only celebrate the demise of yet another one. Evidently, several other people thought so, too, because a substantial part of them headed into the tavern. Simon looked after them longingly, but his father pinched his ear.<br/><br/>"We need to get some shoes on these. Let's go."</div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #376534">▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼</span><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;">Permission to briefly use Edwin Earle granted by <a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=110294">@Muse</a>.<br/>[<a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&amp;t=52683">OOC</a>] // [<a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=74&amp;t=52678">Int. Check</a>]</span></div>