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

"And these torments... what are these torments you speak of?"
"A lodestone pulls iron to it... and so do you, my precious half-man, but it is
not iron, but tormented souls. As others suffer, they are drawn to you, and
your path becomes theirs." She made a sweeping gesture. "Do you not see
them in the eyes of those that have traveled here with you?"
"My companions? What do you mean?" I looked back to them, and already I
knew what Ravel meant, and how deep those words would cut.
"Do you wish to explain, gith?" Ravel threw a burning glance at Dak'kon,
tempered with a fanged smile. "Vows may prove tighter than any chain, no?
The manacles of a race once enslaved, now a slave again?"
Dak'kon was silent, but his blade shifted at Ravel's words... the blade
darkened, the edge sharpening until the karach itself seems to carry a
horrible malevolence about it.
"Watch your words, Ravel..."
"The cog-box..." Ravel's gaze drifted to Nordom. "Once it knew only
suffering's definition, but now it feels its sting. There is no room for '2' in the
world of 1's and 0's, no place for 'mayhap' in a house of trues and falses, and
no 'green with envy' in a black and white world. When it discovers how the
planes turn, when it discovers the TRUTH behind loyalty and ill-logic, more
torments will it know..."
"Ravel, leave my companions alo--"
"The chattering skull..." Ravel didn't bother to even look at Morte, as if he
was beneath her notice. "Are the quips enough of a shield for what lies
buried inside your brain-box, hmmm? Why speak truths when lies suffice?"
"Morte..."
"The Abyssal temptress..." Ravel sneered, her yellowed fangs piercing her
purpled lips as she squinted at Fall-From-Grace. "A skin so fair, lips so rich,
eyes that might cause you to forget Ravel herself... and yet she suffers, more
than any other. When one turns on their nature, many are the torments that
arise from such a betrayal."
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