(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"What do you mean?" I asked. It sounded so close to what Dak'kon had
taught me. Indeed, Dak'kon gave a respectful nod at Vhailor's words.
“When the WILL is strong, the BLADE is strong. When the cause is JUST, the
blade strikes TRUE. When MERCY eats at the heart, DOUBT, HESITATION,
COMPASSION follow. The blade becomes as DUST.”
"My will is strong, Vhailor. My conviction lends my blade strength."
Vhailor's ember eyes fell upon me. A heavy silence hung in the air as he
weighed me.
“Your WILL is strong. Your DISCIPLINE is strong. Your WILL is the will of
LAW.”
"Then how do -?"
“KNOW THIS: There is nothing on ALL the PLANES that can STAY the hand of
JUSTICE when it is brought against them. It may unmake ARMIES. It may
sunder the thrones of GODS. Know that for all who BETRAY justice, I am
their FATE. And fate carries an EXECUTIONER'S AXE.”
"I see."
“NO, you do NOT see.” Vhailor's eyes burned like two torches in the
shadows of his helm. “PRAY you never WILL.”
"Then teach me, Vhailor."
“Open your eyes to me, and you shall SEE the PLANES through the eyes of
JUSTICE.”
"Very well... show me what you see."
I gazed into Vhailor's eyes, and the twin fires suddenly FLARED...
"Wh..."
The fanatical zeal crashed against me like a wall of iron: a cold direction of
purpose and loveless law distilled into its purest form. For a moment we
were linked, my vision to his. Where Dak'kon's mind was like a well-forged
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