Earlier this year, the regime of the fascist dictator, General Franz Nafida, capitulated to the armies of the CAF and CSL. Now, with the succeeding chaos resolved, the new, free government will try the general to the court for the several atrocities, he had committed
Kruzawad International Airport // 0900 hours
A convoy of several armoured trucks drives through the gates to the runway as the representatives step out of their respective planes and on the red carpet. They are welcomed by the honorary guard in their khaki uniforms, each lifting their sword over their head. The at end awaits Josef Arsta, the provisional leader, who greets them, before they step into a truck surrounded by numerous police cars and motorbikes.
On the way to the court, they drive through downtown. People are shopping, eating at cafes or taking a stroll around a park. Others are preparing the city for the traditional new year celebrations on Thursday. The area looks like any other urban area in the world. But it isnt. Everywhere, propaganda posters of Nafida and the nation’s ‘glorious future’ litter the cityscape, allthough most of these are vandalised, now depicting the dictator as a devil with horns or with writings promising retaliation. And then there is the unmistakable holes from bullets on almost every building.
The closer they come to their destination, the more protesters are seen. Waving with flags, burning the one of ‘the Most Serene Republic’, face and white clothes covered in red paint and waving with signs calling for his death.
The convey, suddenly, reaches the checkpoint. A soldier with a dark blue beret knocks on the driver’s window. An officer of the foreign legion. “Aydi, Âghâ?” he asks. The driver hands it over to him, before he shouts to his comrades: “Vâzkin, sarbâzhâ! Âmadand!”
As police keep the angry mob away, the soldiers quickly pulls barbed wire to the side so the convoy can move forward to a deserted part of the Uyandi district. Now patrols are seen instead of people. They drive only a few hundred meters before they stop. The doors open and they all step out. They walk into a magnificent building where the group upon arrival are thoroughly searched for anything that might cause harm.
Finally after walking through a long hallway, they reach a grand hall: The supreme court. The brightly lighten room has walls covered by marble and lapis lazuli, the floors with extensive persian rugs and the loft pictured with mythological figures of both perishnani and greek descent. However the wall behind the long desk intended for the judges also has markings from a long-gone coat of arms.
Not long after, the accused step into the hall. Not in his proud uniform but in a plain T-shirt. Not with expensive watches but cuffs around his wrists. He too takes a seat. The judge and jury now also enter the hall. Everybody stands up. Just not him.
OOC
viewtopic.php?f=5&t=564214
