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

"You would tell me, then, that you are not a wanderer, meandering about
the city asking questions of all those you come across, engaging in more
than the occasional combat to the death with those who cross you?"
"Eh... well..."
The faintest hint of a sneer appeared on her lips. "I am quick to judge, sir,
because I am a magistrate by trade."
"All that aside, madam, I'm quite clean, and... meaning no disrespect...some
cultures might find your clothes offensive."
She examined me skeptically for a moment, then nodded. "Your point is
well-taken... sir. Still, though, you cannot deny you are a rather
rough-looking sort of fellow."
"My appearance is merely a product of my environment, madam, and a
difficult life. I shouldn't be held accountable for that."
"Oh, but you should!" her voice took on a tone of pity. There was no
arrogance behind it... if anything, she sounded like a mother voicing her
disappointment in a child who could've been so much more, "How easy it is
for one to blame one's life, one's surroundings for their every failing! I can
see by your manner you are well-educated, sir, yet you appear to insist upon
a lifestyle of wandering and senseless violence. Why not settle in Sigil,
become a contributing citizen, rather than some bloody-handed nomad in
its streets?" The guard behind her shifted his weight, as if to remind me that
he still stood at her side.
"The choice is out of my hands, I assure you."
"Oh? How so?" Her coldness melted away into a look of curiosity.
"It is difficult to explain..."
"Nonetheless, I would bid you to do so, sir."
And so I told her my story... what I knew of it, at least.
When I was finished, Diligence looked shocked. "That... that is quite a tale,
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