gorbo_longstocking
The reigning monarch's spouse was dead, the Empire was in mourning.
Coincidentally, Verrie Adelberry arrived, not too long after. The queen's body had not yet grown cold and they had started to make quite the name for themself. Verrie did not journey the vastly spanning roads of the Empire, nor did they travel to the capital by any normal means. It was almost out of a myth. One second there was naught more than empty air, and the next, they were careening out of the sky as if they had been kicked out of the heavens by the gods themselves.
Adorned in clothes that none had ever seen, with an accent that none had ever heard, and nonsense spilling from their lips, it was no wonder why Verrie was thrown at the widowed ruler's feet and declared a murderer. For there was no other explanation for Verrie, with their strange name and even stranger mannerisms- nor would there be any for the bodies that would begin to pile up since their arrival.
Unbeknownst to all, Verrie was no traveler, or god, muderer, or anyone in this strange world of their own free will. They were from a modern age, and they would have to prove their innocence by whatever means necessary.
That was easier said than done considering that they were being held hostage deep in the bowels of the Imperator's dungeon.
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