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

my hands through my hair. "How did this come to be?"
"Know the tale is long. The matter is between me and the other that was
once you. know that if you hear it, know it shall be a long tale."
"I would hear it."
Dak'kon sighed, and ran his hand along the wall beside us. His fingers
caressed the blue-gray stone, trying to conjure up old memories of his
ancient homeland. He spoke, and it came in a quiet intonation. I found
myself leaning forward, eager to catch every word. "Upon the rolling Plane
of Limbo, the People shape cities from the chaos with their thoughts. Know
that there is no place for a divided mind." Dak'kon raised the blade from his
shoulder and held it before him. As he stared at it, it sharpened until it was
almost as thin as a piece of paper.
"A divided mind is an unfocused mind. A divided mind fractures walls and
weakens stone." As Dak'kon spoke, the edges of the blade corroded slightly,
the metal misting and melting along the edges. "Many divided minds may
destroy a city.
"Long have I known the words of Zerthimon. Through my voice, many have
come to know the words of Zerthimon. The zerth protect the community
from all threats, whether to the body or the mind. They are the guiding
stones in the chaos. So it came to pass that I spoke the words of Zerthimon
without knowing the words of Zerthimon. It came to pass that I no longer
knew myself."
"So... you doubted the words?"
"No." Dak'kon's voice was edged, and his blade sharpened in response. "I
knew the words. Yet it came into my heart that perhaps others did not know
the words as Zerthimon knew them. And so division formed. As my mind
became as two, as my mind became divided, those that looked to me as a
guiding stone became divided. Many scores of githzerai, many hundreds of
scores of githzerai... doubted. Shra'kt'lor died that day."
"So... those that followed you came to doubt the words as well, and the city
was weakened."
Dak'kon's fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade, and he closed his eyes.
478