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

Marquez was a burly blond man wearing the armor of a Harmonium officer.
His face was rosy with drink, and behind his smile, his eyes were filled with
bitterness. He launched into speech without preamble. "Here's the deal.
Slavers have kidnapped Barse's daughter. It's your job to get them back. I'll
tell you where to find them; you go kill them and report back to me, and I'll
help you find the deva you're looking for. I'll even teach you weapons.
Agreed?"
"I have a few questions about this, first..."
"A few questions? No. There are only two possible answers. Are you for
slavery, or against it?"
"I'm against it." I could hear Dak'kon's karach blade sharpening at those
words, and even standing still and silent his thoughts seemed to cut the air.
"Then you'll help, right? Yes... or no."
"I'll help."
I looked him up and down, the red-laquered armor making his allegiances
clear, "Who are you?"
"I'm Marquez, formerly a Measure Three of the Harmonium. Formerly, I
said, because I quit not so long ago."
"Why? What's your stake in this slavery thing, anyway?"
"I found out that the Harmonium - a group I'd believed in from the start -
was buying people, kidnapping them, taking them against their will and
ruining their lives. It was sucking the life out of people for daring to be
different, and I couldn't take it anymore. The slavers you'll be fighting are
old comrades of mine." He spat on the floor. "Berks. Liars. You can't trust
anyone anymore."
There was no lack of alleys in Curst... the buildings squatted next to one
another as if they were themselves too suspicious to get closer, to wary of
one another to be further apart. Most were set up on the fringe of the town
like a man keeping his back to the wall so that no one could plant a dagger in
it. In this way suspicion bred suspicion, as the filthy crevices that were
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