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

process, and watch your words carefully: I am a powerful magistrate here,
and would hate for you share this man's..." He indicated the condemned
An'izius. "... rather sorry fate."
"You can't execute that man. This sort of thing's why Curst slid into Carceri...
and it's what we need to stop in order to get the gate-town back on the
Outlands."
"Wrong? You quickly forget that I am a magistrate, sirrah. I, myself, decide
what is right and wrong in this town!"
"You know this isn't right. Yes he conspired to frame another, but you know
you're only going to execute him as a scapegoat. If you carry though with
this, it'll only add to the chaos that threw this town into Carceri in the first
place," I stabbed a finger against his sweaty chest, "We have to put an end
to this madness so we can get the Curst back where it belongs... before
we're all killed."
The judge furrowed his thick brows, forming a bushy, white 'V' over his eyes.
He looked to me, then to the gith, then to me again. "Both clever and wise
are your swaying words, sir... and I thank you for your timely aid. It is well
appreciated, by this town as well as the accused. There shall be no more
hasty executions. Guards! Release the man."
The people's eyes were glazed with bloodlust, their voices ragged from
screaming hatred with the mouth of a mob.
"The bureaucrats! The bureaucrats!"
"What are we gonna do with 'em all?"
"KILL! KILL! KILL!"
The plump little official clawed at my kilt, mewling, "Please! Save me!
They're trying to kill me just for doing my job! I didn't mean any harm! Can't
they see they're the ones bringing this town to ruin? Please... you have to do
something!"
The grizzled man leading the mob gave me a look of contempt. "Whaddye
want, berk? Can't ye see we're busy cleanin' out the trash that got us into
Carceri? We get rid o' this sod, we're golden. We're back in the Outlands, no
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