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

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all <strong>to</strong>gether. Th' only thing ye needs ta know is this: fiends are killin' fiends.<br />

Baatezu are slaughterin' tanar'ri, tanar'ri are butcherin' baatezu. Right now."<br />

He spat again. "Neither's winnin'. Don't think either can win. Biggest<br />

stalemate this side o' eternity... thank the Powers."<br />

"That's it." He shrugged. "That's it. I'll <strong>be</strong> answerin' any questions ye gots fer<br />

me, now..."<br />

A young Sensate raised his hand.<br />

"What's yer question, cutter?"<br />

"What started the Blood War?" he called out from the crowd.<br />

"Ye got a right ta <strong>be</strong> curious what started this big ol' soddin' soupy mess in<br />

th' first place: what set th' fiends ta lockin' 'orns in the first place, bitin' an'<br />

clawin' at each other until that was the only reason they were alive...<br />

Simple: they met." He sighed. "Tanar'ri an' Baatezu crossed each other one<br />

day an' like two drunken bigots, they set ta fightin'. That simple."<br />

He frowned. "Well... Naw, pike that: imagine two drunken priests who<br />

<strong>be</strong>lieve each knows th' only way ta live. Now make those priests ripped with<br />

scales an' fangs an' horns an' a cruel streak seven leagues wide an' put them<br />

in an itty-bitty soddin' cell... an' ye 'ave a good idea o' th' love that can<br />

spring forth. An' there ye 'ave it! The origin o' th' Blood War."<br />

"Why are two evil races fighting?" a<strong>not</strong>her asked.<br />

"One <strong>be</strong>lieves evil should <strong>be</strong> nice an' orderly. One <strong>be</strong>lieves evil should <strong>be</strong><br />

chaos, runnin' rampant across th' Planes. Both evil, but <strong>do</strong>esn't mean they<br />

can agree on anythin'. <strong>Bad</strong> blood, bad blood... each wants ta exterminate th'<br />

other so only their 'brand' o' evil remains. They hate each other, like...<br />

like..." The speaker wrung his hands <strong>to</strong>gether, trying <strong>to</strong> find the right words.<br />

"Ye see, they <strong>do</strong>n't hate like we hate. We <strong>do</strong>n't even know what hate is. We<br />

have one, one word fer 'hate.' They 'ave..." His voice dropped. "...thousands,<br />

upon thousands, their meanin's twisted an' piled like... bodies. That's why<br />

they fight."<br />

"Can't you give me a little more on the Blood War itself?" I called out. Morte<br />

rolled his eyes. I could've asked him just as easily.<br />

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