Linara |
Spellcraft
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Linara's eyes flared up at Rekkart's comment.
"Alright, folks, I've been quiet thus far, mostly as I've been scared out of my wits. However, you," she points to Rekkart, "Mr. Lawman, Sir High and Noble, have pushed me to speak. I'm not one to lie and say I'm good friends with the law. Not everyone is and it happens. However, even my crooked views of life know a little bit of how things work. As I understand it, a man is not sentenced to death unless their accusors are sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is guilty. And now, you sit here doubting yourself if he was deserving of death or not?! It's obvious why your type and I never get along. You can't be trusted to make an honest decision!"
She begins to pace.
"It's no wonder the fella is mad at you. By the tankard, I think I agree with his thoughts and you deserve this haunting. Now we're here, because of you and your friends actions! Now if me and these other decent folk are stuck in here because of something you did, you better hope we get out of here safe and sound. If not, just know I'll find ya in Hell where I intend to give it a run for its money when it comes to handling your soul!"
She stops abruptly before almost collapsing, coming to rest against a nearby wall.