>>5409899>>5409932>>5409964>Murdering a close friendYou answer the Living Triptych.
You murdered Sir Jacques di Pacini, a knight who for many years you had called friend.
Even as you confess you remember your friendship, forged in blood on many battlefields. There were few men you trusted more to have your back. He was blunt and military minded, and had little time for chivalry and romance.
Of course, that’s why he had never gotten on with <span class="mu-s">her</span>. Jacques bemoaned that she was making you soft. The two of them argued jealously over you, and eventually Jacques could no longer visit while she was there, and whenever you visited him you could not bring her with you.
After you lost her, you were at least spared that sour problem for the next few years. But one night, as the two of you lounged and reminisced before the fire in his hall, the issue reared its undead head. You had drained too many bottles of wine between you and now Jacques’ tongue was even harsher than usual. He admitted that he was glad she was gone, glad that he now had his friend back, free of that doe-eyed seductress, and that was the hill he would die on even as the two of you began to scream and rage at each other.
There were few men you trusted more to have your back. If only you had not plunged your knife into his when next he stood up to retrieve another bottle.
The regret had set in immediately. Drunken fury gave way to sobbing. When at last one of Jacques’ servants came to wait on the two of you, you made no attempt to escape nor dissuade them from reporting the dreadful scene to the rest of the household. You merely sat there for the rest of the night, resigned to the consequences, ready to go quietly with the bailiff and militia when they came for you in the morning...
"Thou betrayed thy friend and robbed him of his life," echoes the Triptych. "And in doing so, thou hast robbed The New Goddess of a knight, as good and devout as thee. Doth it not make a mockery of the Mercy of Our Weeping Lady, saviour of mankind, if thou deniest that mercy to thy fellow man?"
Murmurs rise from the clerics in the gallery. A look from the Living Triptych silences them, while you look down in shame.
