The Strongarm Case

[Mordegald]

Hans roared into his mask as his gauntleted fist missed his target and smashed a crater in the bare stone ground.

"Now, now," said his opponent in a high-pitched and incredibly smug voice. "It's not very polite of you to assault a man while he's making a case!" The small man's laughter was like a rusty music box creaking its way through a tune.

"Shut UP!" Hans screamed as he swung again, arcs of lightning dancing around his fists.

"No!" His opponent dodged, his aristocratic clothing swirling and his eyes gleaming with malice behind his mask. "I haven't explained your offenses yet! You see, it all comes down to-"

Hans swung again, with all the force the mechanisms in his armor would provide. With impeccable timing, his opponent dropped, the earth-shattering blow doing nothing more than carrying away his bowler hat. In the instant his view was clear, Hans had a view of the whole battle for the ancient ruins. He snarled as he saw the winged creature that had laid Von Schill low leap over a ruined wall and hurl itself at Lazarus, bloodied claws bared.

"Let me finish!" screeched the lawyer, sliding to his feet. "The main point is this so-called Strongarm Suit of yours. What do you know of its design?"

"Plenty!" He charged up again and hurled another blow. The lawyer stepped aside, and a few meters distant Hans saw a swirl of purple cloak and grey steel as Taelor swung her massive hammer, forcing back a demon riflewoman who had been crouching behind a wild hedge.

"Evidently not! For example, I imagine you didn't even know the design of the arm joints is identical to one patented by Breachside Mechanical - a clear case of Intellectual Property Infringement!"

Hans tried to spring forward to press the attack, but stumbled painfully as the suit's arm braces suddenly seized. The lawyer laughed at his distress, dancing around him.

"And did you know also," the man cackled as Hans rose, "that the number 3 aetheric condenser is prone to failure under loads in excess of 35 Merlin's units? A gross violation of Construct Safety Dictates!"

Hans was rocked forward as part of the complex machinery on the harness's back exploded, burning a hole in his reinforced Freikorps uniform. The lawyer was positively screaming with laughter now. Hans forced the pain down and took advantage of his enemy's distraction, dealing him a savage lightning-enhanced backhand that spun the lawyer entirely around. He screamed indignantly, and suddenly an invisible force battered Hans across the face, forcing him down on one knee.

"Striking an officer of the law?!" The lawyer shrieked, frantically batting out a fire on his ruffled shirt. "You're only making it worse for yourself!"

"SILENCE!" Hans screamed as he stood. "No lie or foul magic will save you!" He sprang forward, swinging his fist downwards, but again struck only stone.

"These are no lies! It's my job to know your every little crime. For example you, my dear Hans, are personally guilty of no less than twelve instances of Disorderly Conduct Within a Public Space - five of them unrecorded, and unpunished!"

Hans suddenly doubled over, nauseous, his head spinning. He felt as sick as he had the last time he'd gone celebrating with his fellow Freikorpsmen. Disjointed images swam in front of his eyes - broken bottles, an overturned market stall, a woman's bloodied face - and he vomited inside his mask. As he sank to his knees, he surveyed the battle through filth-spattered lenses. The demon woman had evaded Taelor, and was still aiming a smoking revolver at the crumpled and sparking form of Lazarus. Their librarian lay dead, torn apart by razor claws. The steam trunk was sprawled on its back, torn open and struggling futilely to right itself. And a robed figure in the powdered wig and full face mask of a senior Guild official surveyed the carnage, calmly gesturing here and there to direct his underlings.

The lawyer circled into Hans's field of vision. He tried to rise, but his legs wouldn't respond. The Guild official in the distance gave a quick nod to the lawyer, and he cackled with glee. "Well then, that's that! Time for your sentence!" The lawyer straightened, adopting a formal posture quite at odds with the chaos arrayed behind him. 

"For your many flagrant violations of the laws of Malifaux, and by the authority of the Governor-General of said colony as referred by Secretary Lucius Mattheson, I do sentence you to die!" He twirled his cane, bringing its heavy head above him in preparation for a vicious downward blow. "Any last words?"

Hans could only gurgle pitifully.

"So noted." The blow came, and he knew no more.

[admiralvorkraft]

This was quite fun, I liked seeing legal magic at work.