9th of Summer, 516AV
Tavia had been allocated a new case, one which involved her defendant, a thirty-something year old female, being accused of vandalism and disorderly conduct. Two days ago the Wave guard had been summoned to an address in the affluent Ancient Quarter by a male, who claimed that the suspect had damaged his luxurious home and possessions. When the Wave Guard arrived, they found the suspect slurring her words, stumbling, and acting aggressively.
After a day or so custody to sober herself up, the female had been offered the basic legal representation that all citizens of Zeltiva could have.
This came in the form of Tavia Malech, attorney.
Despite only being allocated low level and petty crimes, Tavia thoroughly enjoyed her work. There was something incredibly satisfying about researching a situation, interrogating all involved parties, and drawing up a conclusion that appealed to her scholarly interests. More to the point, Tavia liked to think that by defending the accused, she was doing her utmost to ensure that every citizen of Zeltiva had a fair and equal trial.
That didn’t always seem to be the case, however. The prosecutor had rejected the attorney offered to him by the city, instead employing a high-flying private attorney out of his own incredibly deep pocket. Though she didn’t know anything about her rival, Tavia felt… uncomfortable with knowing how tilted the battlefield would be in his favour. A wealthy man, one that trickled a significant amount of money into the Zeltivan economy, would be a hard prosecutor to bring down. Alternately, a poor woman found drunk inside a damaged home in an area she didn’t belong would be all too easy to send even further into the societal drain.
Still, Tavia maintained the illusion of cool, confident professionalism as she prepared to meet her defendant for the first time. The purpose of this interview was to hear her client’s side of the story, to delve deeper into what happened and to uncover the why and the how.
Laura Trywhitt had dressed in her smartest clothes. Tavia could tell this by the stiffness in her client’s white shirt, the wrinkles in Laura’s skirt that were not a sign of heavy wear, but of being folded away in a cupboard for a significant length of time. She was both pleased and disappointed by this: pleased that Laura was taking the situation so seriously, but dejected that the woman would need to straighten her wardrobe even further in order to convince the court that she was a well-to-do woman.
“Laura? My name is Tavia, I’ll be acting as your defendant for the duration of this matter.” The greeting was one that Tavia had rehearsed several hundreds times in the past, even if she had only said it to actual clients on three prior occasions. She had been told, whilst training and learning about the legal system of Zeltiva, that the way an attorney introduces themselves to their clients was crucial in setting up a professional, yet trustworthy, relationship between them. If a client felt that their attorney was not proficient enough to do their job, or that they were uninterested in the case or deceitful, it could be even more challenging to get the desired outcome.
“Thank you.” Laura said quietly, sitting down into a wooden chair after shaking Tavia’s hand. Tavia sat in another chair on the opposite side of the table. Her movements were measured and slow, almost mechanical, as she prepared a quill and paper.
“I want you to know that what we discuss in this room can, and most likely will be, used in court at anytime during the proceedings. With that in mind, would you like to proceed?” Tavia paused briefly to allow Laura to give an uncertain little nod. A form, which repeated Tavia’s previous sentiments almost word by word, was then signed by Laura. After this, Tavia finally allowed herself a rigid smile. The act did not come naturally to her, but it was crucial to build rapport with her client.
“I’m going to be asking you a series of questions, and I need you to be as honest as you can be with me. If you don’t tell the truth, and it comes out in court that you lied to me, that could be devastating for us both. I’m not here to judge you, but to try and defend what happened on the night of the—” She glanced down to her notes, “the seventh. Okay?”
Again Laura nodded, her lips pursed tightly shut.
“So please, Laura, could you recount in your own words, what you believe happened that night?”
Tavia had been allocated a new case, one which involved her defendant, a thirty-something year old female, being accused of vandalism and disorderly conduct. Two days ago the Wave guard had been summoned to an address in the affluent Ancient Quarter by a male, who claimed that the suspect had damaged his luxurious home and possessions. When the Wave Guard arrived, they found the suspect slurring her words, stumbling, and acting aggressively.
After a day or so custody to sober herself up, the female had been offered the basic legal representation that all citizens of Zeltiva could have.
This came in the form of Tavia Malech, attorney.
Despite only being allocated low level and petty crimes, Tavia thoroughly enjoyed her work. There was something incredibly satisfying about researching a situation, interrogating all involved parties, and drawing up a conclusion that appealed to her scholarly interests. More to the point, Tavia liked to think that by defending the accused, she was doing her utmost to ensure that every citizen of Zeltiva had a fair and equal trial.
That didn’t always seem to be the case, however. The prosecutor had rejected the attorney offered to him by the city, instead employing a high-flying private attorney out of his own incredibly deep pocket. Though she didn’t know anything about her rival, Tavia felt… uncomfortable with knowing how tilted the battlefield would be in his favour. A wealthy man, one that trickled a significant amount of money into the Zeltivan economy, would be a hard prosecutor to bring down. Alternately, a poor woman found drunk inside a damaged home in an area she didn’t belong would be all too easy to send even further into the societal drain.
Still, Tavia maintained the illusion of cool, confident professionalism as she prepared to meet her defendant for the first time. The purpose of this interview was to hear her client’s side of the story, to delve deeper into what happened and to uncover the why and the how.
Laura Trywhitt had dressed in her smartest clothes. Tavia could tell this by the stiffness in her client’s white shirt, the wrinkles in Laura’s skirt that were not a sign of heavy wear, but of being folded away in a cupboard for a significant length of time. She was both pleased and disappointed by this: pleased that Laura was taking the situation so seriously, but dejected that the woman would need to straighten her wardrobe even further in order to convince the court that she was a well-to-do woman.
“Laura? My name is Tavia, I’ll be acting as your defendant for the duration of this matter.” The greeting was one that Tavia had rehearsed several hundreds times in the past, even if she had only said it to actual clients on three prior occasions. She had been told, whilst training and learning about the legal system of Zeltiva, that the way an attorney introduces themselves to their clients was crucial in setting up a professional, yet trustworthy, relationship between them. If a client felt that their attorney was not proficient enough to do their job, or that they were uninterested in the case or deceitful, it could be even more challenging to get the desired outcome.
“Thank you.” Laura said quietly, sitting down into a wooden chair after shaking Tavia’s hand. Tavia sat in another chair on the opposite side of the table. Her movements were measured and slow, almost mechanical, as she prepared a quill and paper.
“I want you to know that what we discuss in this room can, and most likely will be, used in court at anytime during the proceedings. With that in mind, would you like to proceed?” Tavia paused briefly to allow Laura to give an uncertain little nod. A form, which repeated Tavia’s previous sentiments almost word by word, was then signed by Laura. After this, Tavia finally allowed herself a rigid smile. The act did not come naturally to her, but it was crucial to build rapport with her client.
“I’m going to be asking you a series of questions, and I need you to be as honest as you can be with me. If you don’t tell the truth, and it comes out in court that you lied to me, that could be devastating for us both. I’m not here to judge you, but to try and defend what happened on the night of the—” She glanced down to her notes, “the seventh. Okay?”
Again Laura nodded, her lips pursed tightly shut.
“So please, Laura, could you recount in your own words, what you believe happened that night?”
