Snippet #2452723

Devlin struggled to keep his feet beneath him, as the much larger and more heavily built jailer hauled him across the floor, and threw him, quite literally, into a cell, closing and locking the door. Scrambling back up to his feet, the half-elf let out an irritated huff, and immediately pressed his face up to the bars.

"This is an indignity! An injustice, I tell you! I'm falsely accused! I've been framed! Framed, gods damn it!" he shouted, a notable dramatic flair in his voice.
The jailer had only taken a few steps away, when he turned back, and game Devlin a flat, deadpan stare. "You were seen groping a woman, in the middle of the market square."
Devlin open his mouth, aghast. "I did no such thing! I would never and have never committed such a disgusting act!" he spit on the ground, "Besides, I didn't get a good enough grip for it to count as a grope. I merely copped a feel." He shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

The jailer continued, with the same deadpan drawl, "And attempted to pick-pocket the woman."
For once Devlin's cool faltered. "Ah, well, you see... it's... it's only been suggested that I may have, allegedly, pick-pocked her. Ok, yes, I had a few extra coins up my sleeves, and she had a few fewer in her purse, but that doesn't mean anything! Maybe she bought something! Women tend to do that!" He paused for a beat. "Especially at a market!"

The jailer's flat expression never even twitched. "Uh huh," he grunted, and began to stride off again. Devlin almost let out a swear, but it merely petered out into a hiss as he looked around him. There were three other men in his cell, and plenty more in the other cells, and none of them looked like town drunks. They looked like bandits. Angry, recently captured bandits.
"Woah, hey now, let's be reasonable here. You seem to be at capacity as it is, and really, isn't a few hours in the stocks a more fitting punishment?" He'd already spent his time with hardened criminals, and wasn't really looking forward to being locked up with them some more. The Jailer let out a slow grunt, and retraced his steps, till he was standing face to face with Devlin again.
"I'm sure we could move the judicial process along, as soon as you're willing to tell us your name."

Again, Devlin seemed to falter. "Ah, yeah, you see... the guards were a tad rough when they apprehended me, an unjust and undeserved apprehension I should add, and um... I seem to have hit my head and lost my memory." He made a quick twirling motion on the side of his head with his hand. "Yup, all gone. The only thing I seem to recall is your wife calling me 'Daddy' all last night, but I strongly suspect that is not my actual n-"
Devlin was cut off, as the jailer, with some apparent ease, grabbed the half-elf by the collar through the bars, and lifted him into the air. Though his expression hadn't changed, the blood vessels in his neck were standing out. "You think you're funny, little man?"
Devlin gulped, and his voice wavered slightly, "Ah, my that's quite a grip you have there. You know, you might want to be careful of who you grab hold of, I hear this town has a very strong stance against inappropriate touching."

In response, the jailer reared back, and slammed Devlin into the bars, so hard that the half-elf bounced, and landed with a heavy thud. Dusting his hands off, the larger man walked away, back down to his post, leaving Devlin on the floor, nose bleeding, lip split, and face bruised. The three other men in his cell hadn't said anything before now, but as he struggled to sit back up, groaning, one of them added, "You got a pretty mouth."
"Oh, gee, thanks, you really know how to butter a girl up."