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

escapes is a curious,
"Oh?"
"Vhailor was a hero. He is a hero," the Mercykiller pounds a spiked gauntlet
into the table. Shara Six-Blades raises a disapproving eyebrow at the new
gouges, but says nothing. "A bust of him stands proud in the entrance hall of
the Prison. Many have made lone crusades into the lawless Outlands so that
they might live as he did. No one knew what became of him when he
vanished so many years ago, but we always believed he died seeking
justice!"
Ileron rolls his head in a disturbing fashion, as if it were dislocated from his
neck, "In a manner of speaking, he did."
"Vhailor's quarry fled him! Left him to die only to return and slay him again!"
"I know something of laws, girl," Ileron smiles, "I once held the finest
courthouses in the multiverse and the wisest Chief Arbiters served justice in
my squares. I have learned much in all my centuries holding them against
my breast. Most importantly, that law and justice mean nothing."
"Sacrilege!"
"Do not think to debate me on matters of faith either. No, the Nameless
One was right. Yes laws are made by men, and thus justice, too, is defined
by men. But more than that, law is made by men who have power. Men who
have been born to power or been given power by an electorate. Some have
been raised to it, or stole it through cunning or force. Some just have the
power to... walk away from it all, and leave such petty responsibilities
behind." Ileron makes a show of kicking his legs in a small jig. "There is no
transcendent wisdom to justice."
"Then why would people seek it? Why do the wronged crave retribution?
Why do we nod at seeing the wicked suffer for their crimes?" Her words are
rich with conviction, but her two companions shift uncomfortably in their
rust-brown armor. You can see the doubt smoldering in their eyes, the
threat of apostasy gripping their throats.
"Clearly because you are sadists."
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