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

"You and yours have peddled secrets of The People to Prime Worlders,"
Dak'kon declared coldly, "Exchanged knowledge of tactics and fortress
locations for trinkets."
"I can't say I think much of your town," I said wryly, firing several purple
bolts down the street at a passing gehreleth.
"I don't either... but it's mine, and to see it lost to that preening,
self-righteous deva... it is more than I can bear." He coughed wetly. "Free
me, and I shall aid you in your revenge on him. My guards can hold off the
monsters for a time."
"Relax. I'll pull you out."
Dak'kon eyes hardened, "You cannot trust this one. Let him perish here,
under the cart."
"No, Dak'kon, we're pulling him out."
Tovus' thin mouth compressed further still. "Then lift, damn you, and be
done."
We gathered around him, two on each side. Grace knelt over him,
administering healing and ready to pull him out the moment we unpinned
him. Yet as we prepared to lift, a cry of agony sounded from the other side
of the cart...
"Aieee! I’m on the other side! You're killing me!"
The voice was familiar...
"Berrog?" it was that rogue... the self-described engineer who came
searching for an imprisoned deva. "What are you doing here?" We set the
cart down gently, and Tovus snarled in frustration as the weight bore down
on him again.
"What are you waiting for?" he cried out, "Free me!"
Berrog Quickshoes moaned, "I only came to Curst to free the deva...
creature of good.... but I was misinformed. I should never have come..."
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