The ‘People’ vs. Harris Travers

The following takes place following: The Fang and the Gavel

The courtroom reconvenes.

Travers sits anxiously at the defence table, glancing around the empty room. The air feels heavy with anticipation.

Bailiff: "All rise."

Everyone stands as Judge Alaric enters and takes his seat.

Judge Alaric: "Please be seated."

He eyes the defence table.

Everyone stands as Judge Alaric enters and takes his seat.

Judge Alaric:"Mr. Travers, it would appear you do not have any representation. It would be appropriate for Mr. Worth to resume his role as your legal counsel."

Before Mr. Worth can respond, the side doors open. Master Devlin strides into the courtroom.

Master Devlin: "Counsel for the defence."

Judge Alaric: "My my. Master Devlin of the Masters Council. This promises to be interesting indeed."

Travers allows himself a small, smug smile as Mr. Worth looks visibly annoyed while Devlin places his briefcase on the defence table.

Master Devlin: "Thank you, Mr. Worth. Your services are no longer required. I’ll take it from here."

He turns toward the bench.

Master Devlin:"Your Honour, my client will be entering a plea of not guilty at this time."

Judge Alaric: "Master Devlin, the time for pleas has long since passed. And do try to remember that Mr. Worth is to remain as your co-counsel."

Master Devlin: "Funny—I don’t believe my client was ever allowed to enter a plea. What kind of show are you running here?"

Judge Alaric: "A show trial..." 😏

Master Devlin: "I might have known. I suppose you aren’t a real judge either?"

Judge Alaric: "Of course I am. I’ve been a judge for over four hundred years. You don’t get more experienced than that."

Master Devlin: "Doing things wrong for four hundred years doesn’t make you a good judge. For the record, my client maintains a not guilty position."

Judge Alaric: "Your comments are noted—as is the defendant’s irrelevant plea. Now then... shall we get on with it? Prosecution, please make your opening statement."

Mr. Vexley, Crown Prosecutor for the Realm, takes the floor.

Vexley: "Thank you, Your Honour. It is an honour to stand before you today in this hallowed court—a court not bound by the confines of mere legality, but by the higher, ineffable truth of what is right. And in the case of Mr. Travers, that truth is clear: he is guilty—guilty, I say, of crimes that transcend the law and strike at the very heart of our nation.

"Mr. Travers is not only guilty of terrorism, sexual misconduct, and inciting riots... but above all, the most heinous crime of vampirophobia. Yes, Your Honour—the hatred and persecution of vampires simply because of who they are. Mr. Travers has relentlessly incited violence and division against our noble vampire citizens—those who have contributed immeasurably to our society.

"His actions speak not just of a desire to cause harm, but of an intent to undermine the very fabric of our civilisation. His rhetoric has already found its way into the hearts of the disaffected, threatening the peace we have fought so hard to establish.

"I need not burden this court with further details, Your Honour. The evidence is not simply physical—it is moral. And as we all know, moral evidence holds far more weight than any document or fingerprint.

"So let us proceed, Your Honour, not with quibbling over facts, but with the knowledge that Mr. Travers is already guilty. Guilty in spirit, guilty in action, guilty in the eyes of this court and society at large. He stands before us not as a harmless little goblin, but as a symbol—a symbol of all that threatens the sanctity of our peaceful, enlightened world."

Judge Alaric: "Thank you, Mr. Vexley—well said! And now, the defence’s opening statement, please..."

Master Devlin: "Judge—I would call you ‘Your Honour,’ but there’s precious little honour to be found in this courtroom. Members of the jury—and I use those titles with the loosest possible generosity—what we are witnessing today is not justice, but theatre. A grotesque parody of the rule of law. This court exists not to uphold truth or fairness, but to crush dissent, silence speech, and tighten the vampires’ grip on this nation.

"The charges against my client, Harris Travers, are as transparent as they are absurd. Terrorism? Inciting riots? Vampirophobia? Each is as hollow as the hearts of those who brought them. Yet here we are, forced to endure this charade because Mr. Travers committed the one unforgivable act in this society—he told the truth.

"Let us start with the most laughable charge: vampirophobia. A word invented to brand as hateful anyone who resists the creeping domination of our institutions by the undead. They call it prejudice. I call it survival."

The Master steps closer to the jury, making deliberate eye contact with the human members. He notices a recently dead juror suddenly stir—then sit upright, reborn as a vampire.

Master Devlin: "Did Harris Travers incite violence? No—he incited awareness. He exposed the truth: that vampires have infiltrated every level of power, manipulating and draining the life—quite literally—out of our society. Is it a crime to warn people of the wolf at their door? Or is it a duty? You see the evidence before you, unfolding in real time."

He turns slightly toward the prosecution table.

Master Devlin: "This court would have you believe Mr. Travers is a dangerous radical. Yet where is the evidence? Where are the witnesses to these supposed riots? Where is the proof that his ‘terrorism’ was anything more than the product of an illness he never chose? The answer is nowhere—because this isn’t about law. It’s about fear. About silencing those who dare to speak against the new order.

"Harris Travers is not a terrorist. He is a journalist who exposed corruption and defended the freedoms this court now tramples. And you—judge, prosecutor, jurors with fangs glinting under these lights—you are not arbiters of justice. You are collaborators. Enforcers of a regime no one voted for, and no one will ever accept.

"So do your worst. Convict him, if you must. But know this—history will not remember him as a criminal. It will remember him as the man who stood against tyranny when all others cowered; who spoke the truth when silence was safer. Because justice—real justice—does not die, not even in a courtroom like this."

He steps back, his gaze fixed on the jury as the room falls silent. Travers straightens, renewed. Vexley glares, shaken. The vampires shift uneasily. Devlin folds his arms and waits.

****

Judge Alaric: "Master Devlin, while I have allowed you some latitude in your opening statement, I remind you that this is a court of law..."

Master Devlin: "This isn’t a court of law. This is a circus. You aren’t following any laws. But sure, go on ahead with your little show."

Judge Alaric: "Master Devlin! If you continue to test the patience of this court with incendiary rhetoric, you may find yourself in contempt. I trust you will proceed with due decorum from here on... Now... The prosecution will call its first witness. Proceed, Mr Vexley..."

Mr Vexley adjusts his tie, an eager glint in his eyes as he rises to address the courtroom.

Vexley: "Your Honour, the prosecution calls its first witness... Mrs Charlotta Isadora Alaric."

The courtroom erupts into a cacophony of murmurs and whispers. All eyes dart between the witness stand and the judge. Judge Alaric bangs his gavel firmly but not without a hint of a smile, commanding the room’s attention.

Judge Alaric: "Order, please. Settle down, everyone."

From the back of the courtroom, Charlotta Alaric strides confidently to the stand. She is an alluring figure—slender yet voluptuous—with a cascade of dark hair flowing over her shoulders. Her low-cut black dress catches the dim courtroom light, emphasising her pale skin. As she walks past the defence table, Master Devlin notices Travers gawping, his large goblin eyes glued to her cleavage, a thin line of drool forming at the corner of his mouth.

Devlin sighs, leans over, and smacks Travers on the back of the head. The goblin startles slightly, his large ears twitching as Devlin leans in to whisper something. Travers shakes his head and shrugs, his expression one of innocent confusion.

Vexley: "Mrs Alaric, thank you for joining us today. Please, take a moment to tell the court a little about yourself."

Charlotta offers a dazzling smile, her fangs just barely visible as she begins.

Charlotta: "Of course. Well, I’m 37 years old—Or at least, I was when I met my husband back in 1982—the Honourable Lord Alaric."

The audience titters with laughter. She turns toward the judge, her face glowing with affection, and blows him a playful kiss. The judge returns the gesture with a wink.

Master Devlin: "Objection!"

Judge Alaric: "Overruled..."

Master Devlin: "Of course..."

Devlin, unimpressed, sits back in his chair with his arms crossed, his expression one of icy disapproval.

Charlotta: "And I'm a stay-at-home mother to twelve wonderful children. In addition to my familial duties, I am, of course, a proud vampire. I serve as co-campaign manager for VAMP, and I am also the head of the VCCA—that’s the Vampiric Council of Community Affairs based in Walver Lake."

There’s a ripple of polite applause from a few vampires in the audience, and a smug smile curls at the corner of Vexley’s lips.

Vexley: "Thank you, Mrs Alaric. It’s clear you’re a woman of distinction and dedication. Let’s dive into your testimony, shall we?"

Mr Vexley approaches the bench with a folder tucked under his arm, a smug air of certainty about him. He pulls out a tabloid newspaper, holding it aloft for the jury and audience to see. The front page is emblazoned with bold, sensational text.

Vexley: "Exhibit A, Your Honour. The Waldopolis Chronicle, where the defendant, Mr Travers, serves as Editor-in-Chief. The headline, ladies and gentlemen, speaks volumes: ‘Blood Runs Cold: Vampire-Linked Murders on the Rise.’"

A murmur runs through the court as he sets the paper on the evidence table and draws out a second publication.

Vexley: "And Exhibit B, another issue of the same rag: ‘Shadow Government: How Vampires Are Taking Over Our Institutions.’"

The audience grows louder, some gasping theatrically, others nodding in agreement. Judge Alaric taps his gavel twice, and the room quiets.

Vexley: "Mrs Alaric, as a proud vampire and advocate for the acceptance of vampire life, how do such publications make you feel?"

Charlotta: "Terrified. Terrified for my children. We’ve worked so hard to raise them in a world where they can feel safe, accepted... and then this... Not only is it dangerous misinformation... It’s blatant anti-vampire propaganda, plain and simple. No better than the anti-Semitic caricatures churned out in Nazi Germany. Frankly, it’s an outrage that this... publication hasn’t been cancelled entirely."

Her voice trembles slightly, though her expression remains composed. The audience murmurs again, some shaking their heads in agreement. Vexley pounces on the sentiment, turning to address the jury.

Vexley: "And that, my esteemed colleagues, is the heart of the matter! Free speech, unchecked and unregulated, becomes a weapon—a weapon aimed at vulnerable communities, much like the one Mrs Alaric so charmingly represents. Think about it: a world where journalists, or so-called journalists, can spread vitriol and hatred without consequence. This is why—"

Worth: "Your Honour, I must object. While I, too, believe the harms of free speech deserve robust debate, this isn’t a symposium on journalism ethics. It’s a trial. And unless Mr Vexley intends to tie this tangent back to his case against Mr Travers, I believe we are wasting time."

Judge Alaric: "Sustained. Mr Vexley, kindly remember the matter at hand."

Vexley: "Apologies, Your Honour. Let us proceed."

He turns back to Charlotta, clearly trying to regain momentum.

Vexley: "Mrs Alaric, let us shift focus to Mr Travers’ violent actions across the city. How did you feel witnessing that?"

Charlotta: "Oh, I didn’t see it live, of course. It happened in the afternoon, and like most vampires, I was asleep in my coffin. But I saw it on the 10 o’clock news on WBC, and I was horrified. Absolutely horrified."

Vexley: "Horrified by the violence, naturally. But you’ve hinted there was something more personal about his behaviour that evening. Could you elaborate?"

Charlotta: "Yes. Not only did he rant about vampires taking over, spewing visceral hatred against my kind, but he made repeated threats toward... me, personally!"

The courtroom collectively leans forward, captivated. Vexley arches an eyebrow. Travers frowned, looking around, very confused, then suddenly jumps up on the defence table.

Travers: "Objection, Your Honour! I've never even heard of her until just..."

Judge Alaric: "How dare you interrupt my beautiful wife?? You are out of order! Now sit down and don't say another word, Mr Travers, or I will hold you in contempt!"

Travers sinks back into his chair. Mr Worth shakes his head in disapproval at him.

Judge Alaric: "Mr Vexley..."

Vexley: "Thank you, Your Honour... Mrs Alaric, you said he made threats against you personally? Could you elaborate?"

Charlotta: "Yes, it was all the news. He kept ranting and raving about ‘Charlie.’ Over and over, ‘Charlie this, Charlie that. Wanting to kill Charlie...’"

Vexley: "And you believe this was directed at you? Why?"

She presses a hand to her chest, her voice trembling faintly for effect.

Charlotta: "Charlie has been my nickname since I was a little girl. I have no doubt those threats were directed at me personally."

The room erupts into gasps and murmurs. Vexley looks suitably outraged, feeding off the energy in the room.

Master Devlin: "Objection. This is absurdly speculative. The defendant had been spiked against his will and was not in his right mind. Furthermore, he was..."

Judge Alaric: "Overruled, Master Devlin. Be seated... The witness will continue."

Vexley: "That must have been terrifying, Mrs Alaric. To see a violent, crazed goblin who had just assaulted a dozen police officers singlehandedly, then proceed to threaten you personally live on television—simply for being a vampire advocate. What must that feel like?"

Charlotta: "It feels... unspeakable. To be targeted so publicly, so viciously, for nothing more than my advocacy. It’s been so bad I've been having daymares about Mr Travers ever since."

Vexley: "Daymares?"

Charlotta: "Yes. He has been haunting my dreams. He chases me and attempts to murder me with a wooden stake..."

Vexley: "How awful that must be. I wish you the most speedy recovery... Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. What greater proof is needed to show how this vicious character has caused great personal anguish to this charming lady? A pillar of the community..."

Master Devlin: "Objection! Your Honour, dreams are not proof of anything."

Vexley: "Your Honour, I'm trying to demonstrate the great emotional trauma the defendant has caused the witness. Whether it's watching the nightly news or suffering terrifying daymares, the fact is this is the witness' lived experience."

Judge Alaric: "Overruled, Master Devlin. Proceed, Mr Vexley."

Vexley: "Thank you, Your Honour, but I have no further questions. I just wish to thank Mrs Alaric for her bravery today. She's a credit to your people."

Judge Alaric: "Yes, she is a national treasure. Isn't that right, Mr Travers? You may speak now..."

Travers: "Well, I don't think..."

Judge Alaric: "Mr Travers, you will agree with me or find yourself in contempt..."

Travers: (sighs) "Yes, Your Honour. A national treasure..."

Judge Alaric: "My my, there may be hope for you yet, my boy... Now, does the defence wish to cross-examine my wif— The witness?"

Worth: "That won't be necessary, Your Honour, the witness has been through enough..."

Master Devlin: "Shut up, you fool. Yes, Your Honour, I have some questions for the witness..."

Master Devlin rises slowly to cross-examine the prosecution’s witness. His expression is calm, almost amused. He strides towards the witness stand, pausing for a moment to lock eyes with Charlotta Alaric before addressing her with measured politeness.

Master Devlin: “Mrs Alaric, thank you for your testimony. You’ve painted a vivid picture of Mr Travers as a violent, unhinged threat to society — a goblin so dangerous he allegedly targeted you personally. Yet, as we examine the details, I suspect this picture may not withstand closer scrutiny. Shall we look at it together?”

Charlotta: “Of course.”

Master Devlin: “Excellent. You claim that Mr Travers made repeated threats toward you, specifically referring to someone named ‘Charlie’. Is that correct?”

Charlotta: “Yes, that’s correct.”

Master Devlin: “Have you ever personally interacted with Mr Travers before?”

Charlotta: “Never. I’d only read about him.”

Master Devlin: “So you have no personal insight into his mind or the way he thinks — only what others have said about him?”

Vexley: “Objection, Your Honour. This is wasting time.”

Judge Alaric: “Mrs Alaric will answer the question, but do get on with it, Master Devlin.”

Charlotta: “I know all I need to know. He has no shame with regard to his vile views.”

Master Devlin: “But you don’t actually know him, do you? And you weren’t present in the moments prior to his unfortunate rampage through town?”

Charlotta: “No.”

Master Devlin: “If I may, Your Honour — unlike the witness, I was personally present with Mr Travers in the minutes before that incident. Mrs Alaric, what if I were to tell you that the defendant had been drugged against his will with amphetamines during a party, and that I have multiple sworn testimonies to that effect? Would that not make you question your assumptions about his motives?”

Charlotta: “I see no reason why it should.”

Master Devlin: “We have several witness statements from people personally acquainted with Mr Travers, all attesting that he was acting out of character due to being under the influence. And yet you think you know him better?”

Charlotta: “He threatened me. There can be no excuses for vampirophobia.”

Master Devlin: “How can you be sure his comments were directed at you? Do you claim to be the only ‘Charlie’ in town? How would he even know that was your name? You’ve never even met.”

Vexley: “Objection, Your Honour. Master Devlin is badgering the witness.”

Master Devlin: “I merely wish to know how the witness can be so certain the comment was directed at her.”

Judge Alaric: “Overruled — but tread carefully, Master Devlin.”

Master Devlin: “Thank you, Your Honour. Mrs Alaric, how can you be sure that Mr Travers was talking about you? Did he, at any point, use your full name — Charlotta Alaric?”

Charlotta: “No... he didn’t.”

Master Devlin: “Did he, at any point, say the word ‘vampire’ in connection with ‘Charlie’?”

Charlotta: “No... I don’t think so. But it’s just obvious. He hates vampires! He prints all these hateful stories about us, and I am a senior representative of the largest vampire advocacy group in the country — who happens to be called Charlie. It’s not exactly a common name.”

Master Devlin: “Not a common name? Mrs Alaric, the name ‘Charlie’ is, in fact, one of the most common diminutives in the English-speaking world.”

Charlotta: “I—I mean less common for women.”

Master Devlin: “I see. And you know he was referring to a woman how, exactly?”

Charlotta: “Well, I—”

Master Devlin: “You simply assumed he was talking about you, didn’t you? You have no evidence to support that claim. Did you know that ‘Charlie’ was also military slang for Victor Charlie — the term used by American soldiers to refer to the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War? A war Mr Travers recalls vividly, one that continues to shape his state of mind. Are you suggesting that Mr Travers, rather than suffering PTSD flashbacks during a drug-induced frenzy, instead chose to threaten you — someone he had never met — using your childhood nickname, which he somehow divined out of thin air?”

Charlotta: “I... it seemed clear to me at the time.”

Master Devlin: “Did it? Or have you perhaps projected your own paranoia — and a touch of vanity — onto an unrelated outburst?”

Vexley: “Objection!”

Master Devlin: “I’ll rephrase. Mrs Alaric, is it possible that you’ve built this entire accusation on the flimsy assumption that a vague reference to a common name was aimed at you personally? Isn’t it just as likely — if not more so — that Mr Travers was referring to something, or someone, entirely unrelated?”

Charlotta: “I felt threatened — and that’s what matters!”

Master Devlin: “Your feelings, Mrs Alaric, however theatrical, are not evidence.”

A murmur of approval ripples through the gallery. The judge glares, tapping his gavel. The Master turns to the jury.

Master Devlin: “Ladies and gentlemen, note the pattern here: no specific names, no concrete evidence — just a vague feeling of being targeted. And yet this feeling is paraded as proof of guilt in a court of law.”

He pivots back to Charlotta, his tone softening slightly.

Master Devlin: “Mrs Alaric, you said you didn’t actually see Mr Travers’ words live, as you were asleep at the time, and that your knowledge comes primarily from reports broadcast on the WBC after the event took place?”

Charlotta: “Yes, that’s correct. I saw it on the 10 o’clock news on WBC1 and then saw them covering it in detail on Newsnight afterwards on WBC2.”

Master Devlin: “And you trust their reporting, I take it?”

Charlotta: “Absolutely.”

Master Devlin: “You think they are impartial?”

Charlotta: “Of course. It’s why they are such a trusted institution.”

Charlotta: “That’s correct.”

Master Devlin: “Remind me, who oversees the WBC these days? Still the public trust?”

Charlotta: “Yes, I understand that it’s an independent institution, publicly funded, overseen by the Media Standards Board.”

Master Devlin: “Ah yes, the Media Standards Board. And who sits on that board now?”

Charlotta: “I don’t know their names.”

Master Devlin: “I can help you there. Of the twelve current board members, nine are vampires. Put another way, 1.7% of the population making up 75% of the board… That’s quite a feat.”

Charlotta: “Oh… I um, I didn’t know that. But good! That’s progress, of course there’s still work to be done.”

Master Devlin: “Indeed… I’m glad you mentioned Newsnight, as I took the liberty of reviewing that episode. It featured a total of eight guests that night. Five of them were vampires, and not one of them represented a side that was sympathetic to Mr Travers, or the concerns of a great many Waldonians… I also reviewed the subsequent episodes for the rest of the week. Vampires made up an average of 82% of the guests on Newsnight. None of them represented the concerns of the anti-VAMP protesters.”

Vexley: “Objection, Your Honour! This is outrageous. Master Devlin is now attempting to use this court to peddle debunked vampirophobic tropes about vampires controlling the media in an attempt to demonise them.”

Master Devlin: “Your Honour, I merely stated facts about the WBC alone. I made no judgements on said facts as of yet. I’m simply wishing to address the question of the WBC’s impartiality.”

Vexley: “The WBC is not on trial here.”

Master Devlin: “But Mrs Alaric is a witness, who, by her own admission, gets her information from the WBC. Therefore, it’s only fair that we should dig into the WBC and how that may influence her.”

Judge Alaric: “Overruled, Mr Vexley, but do tread carefully, Master Devlin. I’m rather enjoying this and would hate to have to hold you in contempt for spouting hate facts…”

Master Devlin: “Hate facts… Mrs Alaric, given the stats I’ve just presented, how can you claim impartiality when its broadcasts always seem to represent one group rather more sympathetically than others?”

Charlotta: “That’s not true. The WBC represents everyone.”

Master Devlin: “Everyone? Including the likes of Mr Travers and those who are concerned about vampire influence on society?”

Charlotta: “Well… No. Of course not. Some views are just too extreme to be permitted.”

Master Devlin: “Mrs. Alaric, is it not the case that your ‘independent’ source is owned, staffed, and directed by the same class that has a vested interest in silencing Mr. Travers?”

Charlotta: “No…”

Master Devlin: “What we’ve heard today, members of the jury, is not evidence. It’s repetition. A citizen repeating what the state broadcaster told her to believe. Mrs. Alaric, you’ve described yourself as a proud advocate for vampire rights, but tell me, in your advocacy, do you believe that vampires should be immune to scrutiny, even when they exert control over human lives and institutions?”

Charlotta: "Well, no, but—"

Master Devlin: "Then why, Mrs. Alaric, are you here, twisting vague statements and secondhand reports into an elaborate fantasy of victimhood?"

Vexley: “Objection!”

Master Devlin: “Why are you weaponizing this courtroom to silence a journalist whose only crime was exposing the truth about a regime that thrives on fear, manipulation, and bloodshed?"

Vexley: “Your Honour, Objection!”

Charlotta: “How dare you speak to me like that, you filthy little lizard…”

Judge Alaric: “Order! Order!”

The courtroom falls into stunned silence. Master Devlin steps back, his eyes blazing with righteous fury. Charlotta, lost for words, turns to her husband.

Charlotta: “…Are you going to let him speak to me like that??”

Master Devlin: "I have no further questions, Your Honour."

Devlin returns to his seat, his sharp gaze never leaving the jury.

Judge Alaric: “Does the prosecution wish to re-examine the witness?”

Vexley: “No, Your Honour.”

Judge Alaric: “Very well. You may step down, Mrs. Alaric.”

Charlotta steps down and heads for the door.

Judge Alaric: “The prosecution may call its next witness.”

Vexley: “Thank you, Your Honour. The prosecution calls Dr. Lucien Hemsworth, Vampire Sociologist, to the stand.”

As Dr. Lucien Hemsworth, a tall, gaunt man with a pince-nez perched precariously on his pale nose, steps forward, his demeanor is self-important. He carries a thick, leather-bound notebook embossed with the words Sanguine Studies: A Sociological Approach.

Vexley: “Dr. Hemsworth, thank you for joining us today. You’ve built a prestigious career studying the social challenges faced by vampires in Waldonia, have you not?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Indeed, I have. It is a calling, really — a quest to understand and dismantle the societal structures of vampirophobia that so cruelly oppress my kin.”

Vexley: “And as someone who has spent decades analyzing these dynamics, would you agree that hate speech against vampires — such as that spewed by Mr. Travers — has tangible, damaging effects?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Without question. Words are weapons. In the case of vampires, this rhetoric perpetuates stereotypes, fuels persecution, and undermines our legitimate claims for equal rights.”

Vexley: “Dr. Hemsworth, could you share with the court your expert perspective on how language can incite violence?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Hate speech dehumanizes its targets, reducing them to caricatures that are easier to vilify — and, ultimately, destroy. When someone like Mr. Travers vilifies vampires, he emboldens those who might take such rhetoric as a call to arms.”

Vexley: “A chilling thought indeed. Dr. Hemsworth, in your professional opinion, would you classify Mr. Harris Travers as a vampirophobe?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Absolutely.”

Vexley beams and dramatically flips open the doctor’s notebook. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, holding it aloft like a trophy. The courtroom erupts into gasps of shock.

Vexley: “Your Honour, I request permission to enter this illustration into evidence.”

Judge Alaric: “Granted.”

Vexley: “Thank you, Your Honour.”

He holds up the sketch for the jury and the audience to see, his voice booming with theatrical flair.

Vexley: “Dr. Hemsworth, would you kindly describe the contents of this... gruesome and chilling masterpiece?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Of course. This is my artistic depiction of Mr. Travers as I interpret his essence. Here, he is drawn in his undergarments — a symbolic stripping away of his veneer of civility. He clutches a crucifix sharpened into a stake, surrounded by the smoking remains of vampires he has slaughtered. The speech bubble captures his thoughts: ‘HA HA HA, I HATE VAMPIRES... THE ONLY GOOD VAMPIRE IS A DEAD VAMPIRE!’”

Master Devlin: “Objection. What is the relevance of this doodle? It has no bearing on reality.”

Judge Alaric: “Overruled. I’m interested to hear more, Mr. Vexley. This is very interesting.”

Vexley: “Thank you, Your Honour. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this is no mere doodle. This… this is truth rendered in its purest, most irrefutable form. An illustration! The pinnacle of evidence in our proud Waldonian legal tradition — a tradition handed down through generations by the Editor himself. Let us be clear: this is not some foreign invention. This is not a quirk of vampire law. No, this is Waldonian law — one of the oldest, most revered pillars of justice in this great nation!

And yet, the Waldopolis Chronicle would have you believe that vampires don’t assimilate. That we don’t conform to the culture of our host nation. Well, here we are, proudly upholding your sacred traditions, submitting the most quintessential form of Waldonian proof. Tell me, what could be more assimilated than that?”

He slams the paper triumphantly onto the evidence table and turns to the defence with a smug smirk, daring Devlin to object.

Travers: “Master Devlin, do something! This is ridiculous! They’re accusing me of mass murder based on a drawing. Travers never killed anyone — at least not during peacetime.”

Worth: “He can’t do anything. Mr. Vexley is correct. Under Waldonian law, illustrations are considered credible evidence.”

Master Devlin: “You can thank your friend Ed for that one…”

Vexley: “No further questions, Your Honour.”

Judge Alaric: “Bailiff, bring me that illustration.”

The bailiff retrieves the drawing with care and hands it to the judge. As His Honour examines the sketch, the courtroom hangs in tense silence. His expression darkens as his gaze sweeps over the smoking piles of ash at Travers’ feet.

Judge Alaric: “Mr. Vexley, you make an excellent point. In light of this new evidence, do you wish to amend the charges against Mr. Travers to include multiple counts of vampire homicide?”

The gallery erupts into a cacophony of gasps, whispers, and even a few cheers from those too swept up in the absurd drama to suppress their excitement.

Vexley strides forward with the energy of a man about to take a victory lap.

Vexley: “Your Honour, it is no small matter to amend charges mid-trial. However…”

He pauses, smiling broadly at the jury.

Vexley: “This illustration—this profound, unassailable proof of Mr. Travers’ depravity—compels me to say: yes, Your Honour, the prosecution would indeed like to add multiple counts of homicide to the charges. After all, the evidence is right here before us.”

A fresh wave of murmurs ripples through the courtroom.

Judge Alaric: “Very well. Let the record show that the charges against the defendant now include multiple counts of homicide, based on the evidence provided.”

He turns to the witness.

Judge Alaric: “Dr. Hemsworth, let me begin by congratulating you on your… artistic prowess. It’s not every day one sees a sociologist moonlighting as a caricaturist.”

Laughter spreads through the gallery. The judge slams his gavel.

Judge Alaric: “Order in the court! The defence may now cross-examine the witness.”

Master Devlin: “Dr. Hemsworth, you’ve testified that this drawing—a product of your imagination—is an accurate representation of Mr. Travers’ thoughts and actions. Is that correct?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “That is correct. It is an interpretive illustration based on my extensive sociological expertise.”

Master Devlin: “An interpretive illustration. So it’s not a photograph, nor a video, nor any form of direct evidence. It is, by your own admission, imaginary.”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Art, Mr. Devlin, can reveal truths that—”

Master Devlin: “That is Master Devlin, Dr. Hemsworth. And this is a courtroom, not an art gallery. Are we to convict my client of homicide based on your artistic musings? Should we next consult a painter to locate the Ark of the Covenant?”

A low murmur passes through the room. The judge does not intervene.

Master Devlin: “You’ve depicted Mr. Travers holding a sharpened crucifix, standing amidst the ashes of vampires he supposedly killed. Did you witness him commit these acts?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “No, but his rhetoric—”

Master Devlin: “Then on what basis did you draw this grotesque scene?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “On the basis of his published words! His incendiary headlines!”

Master Devlin: “Ah, his headlines. Headlines which contain not a single explicit call to violence. You’ve interpreted them as hateful—that’s your opinion. Do you believe your opinions, however biased, should carry the weight of law?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “It’s not bias, it’s expertise.”

Master Devlin: “Expertise. Let’s test that. Are you trained in criminal forensics?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “No, but—”

Master Devlin: “Are you a licensed psychologist, able to assess my client’s state of mind?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “No.”

Master Devlin: “A legal scholar? Familiar with evidentiary standards?”

Dr. Hemsworth: “No, but my field—”

Master Devlin: “Exactly. You are none of these things, yet you presume to present your doodles as proof of murder.”

The crowd stirs again. Devlin addresses the jury.

Master Devlin: “Ladies and gentlemen, you are being asked to convict a goblin of murder—not on evidence, but on a drawing. A drawing by a man with no firsthand knowledge, no investigative training, and no legal authority to determine guilt.”

He turns back to the bench.

Master Devlin: “Your Honour, this is not a trial—it’s a travesty. If we allow this farce to continue, we are not merely condemning an innocent goblin; we are condemning reason itself.”

He faces the witness again.

Master Devlin: “Dr. Hemsworth, one final question. You claim Mr. Travers’ words incite violence. What violence, specifically, has resulted from his publications? Name a single verifiable incident.”

Dr. Hemsworth: “Well, not directly, but—”

Master Devlin: “Not directly? Not at all, then. There are no victims, no crime—only your indulgent conjecture.”

He steps back.

Master Devlin: “I submit that this testimony—and this absurd illustration—be stricken from the record.”

Devlin sits. The judge looks uneasy; the jury murmurs; Vexley’s confidence falters.

Vexley: “Objection, Your Honour! Waldonian law has long accepted illustrations as admissible evidence! If we discard our traditions whenever convenient, where does it end?”

Judge Alaric: “Mr. Vexley, I’ve considered your argument. There is precedent—an admittedly curious one—but Master Devlin makes a compelling point. Frankly, the law is absurd. If someone presented an illustration of you eating babies, would we convict you of infanticide?”

Vexley opens his mouth, but the judge raises a hand.

Judge Alaric: “No, Mr. Vexley. No more objections. The illustration, while moving, is stricken from the record. The jury will disregard it. The charges of murder against Mr. Travers are dropped.”

Worth: “Your Honour, this is an affront to seven centuries of legal precedent! We cannot discard our foundational laws simply because—”

Judge Alaric: “Mr. Worth, sit down! This benefits the defence, not you. Try to contain your outrage.”

Worth sits, fuming. Silence returns.

Judge Alaric: “Well, Master Devlin, that was quite the performance. I trust you’ve not exhausted yourself? We’ve yet to hear a single witness from your side.”

Master Devlin: “Given the way this court has conducted itself—and your earlier admission that my client is presumed guilty—I’m astonished we’ve made it this far. Of course I have witnesses. But unless you intend to permit a fair trial from this point onward, I fail to see the purpose.”

Judge Alaric: “I didn’t expect to rule in your favour, yet here we are. It can’t hurt to try. Proceed.”

Worth: “Your Honour, I must object! I haven’t signed off on any witnesses for the defence—”

Judge Alaric: “Mr. Worth, I am perfectly aware of what you haven’t done. Sit down and be quiet.”

Vexley: “Your Honour, I also object! Allowing defence witnesses will only fuel further hatred and—”

Judge Alaric: “Shut up, Vexley.”

The courtroom falls silent.

Judge Alaric: “Now, Master Devlin. Are you ready to bring forth your first witness?”

Master Devlin: “To tell the truth, I wasn’t expecting you’d let us call witnesses.”

Judge Alaric: “Yes, well, you’re right to be sceptical. But frankly, I’m enjoying this far more than I expected, so you may proceed.”

Master Devlin: “Well then, if I may have a short recess so I can prepare my witnesses?”

Judge Alaric: “Hmm. Sure, why not? Creatures as old as we are can stand to wait a little. Very well — court is adjourned until noon tomorrow.”

The judge bangs his gavel. Dr Shawn leans forward.

Dr Shawn: “That went… somewhat better than expected.”

Travers: “Damn straight. Fine job there, Master Devlin. Reminds me of me when I was a newly licenced hotshot lawyer!”

Worth: “You’re all fools. We should plead guilty while there’s still time. Can’t you see he’s toying with us?”

Travers: “Shut up, Weinstein.”

The Waldoverse continues in The Defence