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

He glanced at me and motioned to the crowd that he was taking a break.
"Well, a thousand greetings do I bestow on you, sir!" He winced at the sight
of my scars. "You know, I take one look at you with my discerning eye, and I
see a man in the market for some healing charms."
Granted, we were a bit low on them, but other matters needed tending,
"Who are you?"
"Deran's the name, friend! Can it be you have not heard of me? I'm
wounded, verily I am!" He smiled wider at the feigned wound. "No one finer
or more well-known for bringing people who want people a little closer
together." He pointed to the rear of the auction block where the group
shuffled in their chains. "Do you be wanting someone, friend?"
"Hrmn. I heard you sold slaves."
He shook his head. "No, sir! These are indentured servants, not slaves. For
the most part they are guilty of minor crimes. The proceeds from their sale
go toward paying their debt to the city. After their term of servitude, they
will be free citizens once again."
"You bandy words and toy with semantics," Dak'kon murmured coldly. His
voice was like an ice-cold river trickling over rough stone, "Such a thing is
the definition of slavery."
Deran gave him a bright smile. "I don't concern myself with such thoughts.
My task is to sell their contracts as given by the courts of Sigil." He lowered
his voice as he leaned in closer to me. "And collect a percentage for my
efforts, you understand." He straightened.
"You said they were guilty of crimes, what crimes did they commit?"
He shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated way. "I don't know for certain,
but I would guess theft, assault or not being able to pay their debts. Those
are the most common transgressions."
"I would like to look over your slaves, then."
Deran's lips pressed tight and bowed with a flourish, "Well, look if you wish,
but the auction will take place quite soon."
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