The Mayor and The Deacon

Ivastaen 14, 5118

by Irar Deacon of Koar and correspondent of the [[::The_TownCrier|TownCrier]] log taken from the perspective of Irar.

Mayor Lylia and Deacon Irar meet to work out differences between them. Philosophy, politics, and religion all lead to the violent result of a direly injured Deacon.

Summary

Introduction

[Moot Hall, Mayor's Office - 7976]

At the varnished modwir door, a red bear skin rug stretches across the polished hardwood floor. Twin velnalin hide chairs face the Mayor's pine desk, while behind it sits an incurvated bone armchair. A great stag's head and a dark-framed sketch are mounted above a cobblestone fireplace set into the western wall. Refreshments are offered atop an oak bar beside a tall arched window. You also see a basket of sticks, a large detailed map, a large dog bed and a bone-ringed dart board with some stuff on it. Also here: Stormyrain, Mayor Lylia who is sitting Obvious exits: none

Stormyrain nods firmly.

Stormyrain smiles at you.

You bow to Stormyrain.

Speaking to you, Stormyrain greets, "Deacon."

Speaking to Stormyrain, you say, "Captain."

Speaking to you, Stormyrain says, "Nonsense. We're just discussing difficulties."

Lylia smoothly says, "Nonsense, not at all."

Stormyrain says, "Rooks, Malluch."

Stormyrain waves her hand in a dismissive gesture.

Lylia says, "Prelates."

You nod.

Lylia smiles.

Stormyrain groans at Lylia.

Stormyrain mutters, "Prelates."

You say, "Prelates."

Lylia says, "At least that is one we do not have to trouble ourselves with any longer."

Stormyrain says, "Thank Jastev."

You ask, "They are as hard to find as rooks these days, yes?"

Lylia asks, "How good that we have a better one in place now. Lheren Hochstib has become Prelate, yes?"

Lylia says, "I quite like him. A level-headed man."

Stormyrain adopts an agreeable expression.

Stormyrain says, "Yes. I like that Hochstib."

Stormyrain takes a drink from her hazelnut coffee.

Stormyrain dusts off her hands.

You say, "Quite fond of him myself. A bastard who dragged himself up through the muck to his position."

Lylia takes a drink from her amber iced tea.

Stormyrain looks thoughtfully at you.

You say, "I... didn't come to talk about the Prelate."

Speaking to you, Lylia says, "One who has the wisdom to understand how to temper faith with practical considerations. I admire him."

Lylia asks, "Ah, was there something else on your mind?"

Lylia takes a drink from her amber iced tea.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Please, Mayor, I know insults when I hear them."

Lylia mildly says, "Do you? Your ears must be more sensitive than mine. I am quite oblivious."

Lylia chuckles.

You sigh.

Lylia says, "But then, I have always been a friendly sort."

Lylia smiles.

Lylia takes a drink from her amber iced tea.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I wanted to apologize, that I'd presented diplomatic difficulties for you."

Lylia inclines her head.

Lylia says, "I appreciate that, Deacon. Truly."

Stormyrain twists her head slightly, cracking her neck. She looks relieved.

Lylia says, "I do understand your position, believe it or not. Any evidence of Grishom Stone's activities in town are bound to unsettle."

Stormyrain says, "If you will both excuse me? I should get back to my paperwork and the hour grows late."

Stormyrain furrows her brow.

You nod at Stormyrain.

Stormyrain mutters, "Grishom."

Stormyrain places a hand over her heart.

Stormyrain bows to Lylia.

Speaking to Stormyrain, you say, "Evening Captain."

You bow to Stormyrain.

Stormyrain places a hand over her heart.

Stormyrain bows to you.

Speaking to you, Stormyrain says, "And to you, Deacon."

Lylia bows to Stormyrain.

Lylia smiles.

Opening Shots

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "There's no reason to provoke or insult me, Lylia. I'm not your enemy."

Lylia says, "She is a wonderful woman. The Landing is lucky to have her."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I understood your comments in the town hall.”

You say, "Well then."

Lylia says, "Pardon me. I had to see to a minor matter."

You nod.

You say, "Of course."

Speaking to you, Lylia says, "I do not expect to have diplomatic relations with Stone as though he were simply some other nation or town, you know."

You shake your head.

You exclaim, "I don't care about that, Lylia!"

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "We were friends!"

You say, "I acted foolish and said foolish things and I will not forgive myself for insulting you."

(Lylia drops all pretense at smiles and easy courtesy, her face now as still and forbidding as an alabaster statue.)

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I care less about that and Stone and anything else, and more about the fact that I have lost a dear friend."

Lylia coldly says, "Forgiveness is earned, and whether you forgive yourself or not is not my concern."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I lost my temper, I said things I shouldn't have. I acted like an utter arse."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "But damn it Lylia."

(Lylia fixes you with an unblinking stare.)

Lylia indifferently says, "We are not enemies, Irar. You would need to mean more to me to become an enemy. You would need to be far more powerful. You would need to matter."

You chuckle.

Race, Gender, and other Disagreements

You say, "For all your haughty confidence.."

You say, "Forget it. I am only young and human."

You say, "Give me your volleys, Lylia."

Lylia says, "Sometimes I think you forget that I am not."

Lylia narrows her eyes.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "YOU ARE."

Lylia asks, "Human?"

Lylia raises an eyebrow.

Lylia says, "No. No, I am not."

Lylia stands up.

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "You are all the humans fear!"

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "A haughty, capable, powerful figure that judges them."

Lylia paces back and forth.

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "And most of all a woman!"

(Lylia stops short.)

Lylia turns around.

Lylia turns her head toward you to favor you with a silent, withering gaze.

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "Can you understand the mind of an average human dockworker?"

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I'd tell him he should jump in the ocean and drown... oh, forget it."

Lylia says, "Oh, no. No, do finish your thought."

Lylia smoothly says, "Take your time. I have an eternity to listen."

Lylia sits down on an incurvated bone armchair and it shifts, the bones reshaping to accomodate her stature.

Lylia steeples her fingers in her lap, quietly observing her surroundings.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Humans, as all feudal societies do, fear women in power."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "And you are also a sorceress."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Who has advocated for the presence of demons in this town."

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "How would you think things would be?"

Lylia wearily says, "You are doing a fine job of enumerating my virtues, Irar."

Lylia says, "I thought they would be exactly as they are."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "And before you name me a zealot, Lylia, tell me when I've called for a pogrom of demon summoners in the Landing."

Lylia laughs at you!

You stare at Lylia.

Lylia asks, "'Called for a pogrom.' Oh, do you think the people who hear you do so of their own accord? That they would follow you so readily? That they fear a summoner of demons, a Faendryl, a woman of power?"

Lylia fans herself.

Lylia says, "They elected me."

Lylia says, "Chose me."

Lylia stresses, "Embraced me."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "The people who break bread with me support the rule of law and democracy."

Lylia says, "Because when all is laid bare, the sordid truth is that most people want leadership. They seek protection, not --"

Lylia turns around.

Lylia smiles at Yhtrin.

Lylia says, "Good evening to you."

Lylia inclines her head.

Lylia smiles.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Need I remind you I have NEVER."

Yhtrin smiles at Lylia, then stops and says, "Am I interupting?"

(Irar glances at Yhtrin, eyes wide.)

You sneer.

You say, "No."

Yhtrin glances between Lylia and yourself.

You say, "It is the Mayor's decision."

You bow.

Speaking in Faendryl, Lylia gently says something you don't understand.

Speaking in Faendryl, Lylia says something you don't understand.

Lylia smiles at Yhtrin.

Yhtrin smiles at Lylia.

Yhtrin nods.

Lylia inclines her head.

Yhtrin just went through a varnished modwir door.

You scowl.

Elections, Power, and Friendship

Speaking dryly to you, Lylia remarks, "Now. Should I be grateful, then, that you have not denounced me and attempted to have me burned as a witch? Is this the sum of your friendship?"

Lylia asks, "Shall we list all the things we have not done to one another?"

Lylia smiles quietly to herself.

Lylia takes a drink from her amber iced tea.

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "You shouldn't be grateful of anything!"

You exclaim, "We are friends!"

You say, "We do not trade favors."

You ask, "Has this stopped being the case?"

Lylia noncommittally says, "Mm. Perhaps I do not understand this term as you use it. You have condemned me for the very things I hold to be my most sterling qualities, and made yourself the hero for refusing to burn me for them."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Stop that, stop that passive aggressive thing you do."

Lylia narrows her eyes.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I might be young and human but I'm not stupid."

Lylia softly hisses, "Would you prefer real aggression, then? I do not think you would."

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "I would absolutely prefer real aggression! I am human! I am thirty years old!"

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Your kind can never understand because you've never been faced with it."

(Lylia's lips twitch in a brief smile.)

Lylia says, "But you can lecture me on what I do not understand. I see."

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "I'm not your enemy Lylia!"

Lylia mildly says, "Yes. We established this. You are not enough to amount to enmity."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "And you're overwhelmingly arrogant."

Lylia says, "If you wish, however, to amount to friendship, then perhaps you should explain to me why you accused me of cowardice."

Lylia counters, "I am Faendryl."

Lylia amusedly says, "The difference is subtle, but it is there."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I don't want to accuse you of cowardice, or explain why I think you might have been cowardly."

Lylia says, "And yet you did."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Because I was wrong when I said such, so I have no reason to justify it."

Lylia flatly says, "And came here to apologize."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "That's the reason why you apologize."

Lylia says, "May I remind you that I am not the one who would let this town burn for the sake of maintaining my own pride."

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "You've gleefully attached yourself to that, haven't you?"

Lylia asks, "Do I look gleeful?"

Lylia raises an eyebrow.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I don't need your face. I can tell when you're doing something out of spite."

Lylia says, "I would prefer not to have people threaten my town in such a fashion. If it burns, it will not be because of faith."

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "I don't want the town to burn!"

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "Why are we having this conversation?"

Lylia icily says, "Is the spite because I am Faendryl, or because I am female, do you think? I should like very much to know your thoughts on that matter, as you have so freely shared them about so many other things."

Lylia sincerely says, "I have no idea."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I have no idea why you'd bring up your gender, that baffles me."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "And ever have I been an advocate of racial equality."

Lylia flatly says, "You are joking. You must be."

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "You are joking!"

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "You assign to me a caricature of tyrants and murderers."

Lylia says, "You are the one who came in here to tell me that I was more threatening somehow because I am a woman. That you all 'fear a woman in power.'."

Lylia snaps, "Do I need to use simpler words to make it clear I was mocking you?"

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "You are more threatening because you're a woman!"

Lylia stands up.

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "Because Bigots fear a woman!"

(Lylia draws herself up to full height and sneers at you.)

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "You don't deny that for a second."

Lylia says, "I have known tyrants and murderers. You lack the spine for it."

Lylia says, "Or the heart. Or the brain."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Don't even."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I am behind you in every way but one, Lylia."

(Lylia advances on you.)

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "Why do you think we are enemies?!"

Lylia quietly says, "No. You are in front of me. And if you are not careful, I shall perceive that as your being in my way."

Lylia says, "I do not. Yet."

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "Try me!"

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "Why are we at odds?"

Lylia closes her eyes for a moment.

Lylia sighs.

Speaking to Lylia, you exclaim, "You know we agree on most matters!"

You sneer.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Why? Why Lylia? We were friends..."

Lylia simply says, "You made my life slightly more difficult when I would prefer it to be simpler, Irar. With a very challenging man."

Lylia says, "One who could be an enemy, given provocation. Which I would prefer not to do."

(Irar clenches his teeth.)

Lylia slowly explains, "Irar. Do you believe I have some measure of knowledge in four centuries that you do not yet have in three decades? Then listen to me."

You nod.

Lylia says, "We are an ill-protected frontier town, vulnerable to a great many threats. It is through sheer force of will -- my will, among others -- that we have not already been subsumed by the Empire or consumed in flames. This is fact. Not faith."

Lylia says, "Koar will not offer protection from Grishom Stone, if he decides we are a nuisance for some reason."

Lylia harshly says, "By shouting about Koar and all but pissing down your leg in your fervor, you only attract the wrong sort of attention."

Lylia snarls, "I have a difficult enough time navigating these waters without your contributing a stream of it."

Lylia glares at you.

Lylia says, "And yet you hold this up as a virtue, that your faith is so strong. Perhaps it is, but if so, then keep it out of my way, lest you topple something important over with it by waving it about like a toy sword."

Lylia waves her hand in a dismissive gesture.

Lylia says, "You say you wish to be friends. That we have common goals. Some, perhaps."

Lylia admits, "I know you are as tireless in defense of the town as I am."

Lylia asks, "So let us build on this. What would you have me do?"

Lylia stares pointedly at you waiting for an answer.

You sigh.

Lylia's body pulses momentarily into semi transparency and then returns to normal.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Nothing different, Mayor."

You say, "Do as you like. You are the duly elected official of this town, and as Koar represents Justice, I shall support you."

Lylia says, "Wonderful, then you acknowledge I have done all I could to secure the safety of our town and its people."

Lylia sits down on an incurvated bone armchair and it shifts, the bones reshaping to accomodate her stature.

Lylia runs her hand over the bone armchair.

Lylia smiles at you.

Lylia says, "You are on my side after all, then. Good to know."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I cannot say one way or another, for I am not so wise."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I do not like the trend towards secrecy in the pursuit of security."

You say, "But that is your choice."

Lylia says, "I shall be accused of secrecy if I parade through Town Square beating a drum and calling out the names of all our greatest threats and rivals."

Lylia sets her mouth in a thin line of disapproval.

You groan at Lylia.

Lylia says, "You think I am unaware of this? You said it yourself."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Stop."

Lylia flatly says, "I do not respond well to commands."

Lylia ominously says, "Try again."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "Your preferences might not always match with your responsibilities...."

You say, "Forget it."

Lylia says, "I forget nothing. But you do need to speak if I am to listen."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I will support you, Lylia."

Lylia says, "Which, by the way, I am doing. You may not have noticed that you still draw breath."

You say, "Not the best thing to follow up with."

Lylia dryly says, "Duly noted."

Trust and Mail

Lylia asks, "Now, would you care to return to this matter of secrecy? What have I held secret?"

Lylia leans forward and rests her chin in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Lylia says, "Please outline for me, in clear terms, what you feel I have kept too much to myself."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I do not feel, at this point, that we have established a basis of trust."

Lylia asks, "Between one another, you mean?"

You shrug.

Lylia asks, "Or are you judging my ability to earn the town's trust at large a failure?"

Lylia says, "I would simply like to be perfectly clear."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I don't have to judge that."

Lylia says, "A good answer."

Lylia says, "Now, let us talk of trust."

Lylia asks, "You broke mine when Stone bound you, and you turned on me. When have I broken yours?"

You ask, "How did I break yours?"

(Lylia rests her clasped hands on the desk.)

Lylia says, "Accusing me of cowardice. Failing to conduct yourself usefully under duress. Maligning me in letters, apparently."

You ask, "In letters?"

You peer quizzically at Lylia.

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "What letters?"

You growl ferociously!

You stare at Lylia.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "What letters."

Lylia smiles back at you, returning your stare with a serene gaze.

You glare at Lylia.

Lylia says, "I am not an unfriendly mayor, you know. Not yet."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "You intercepted my mail."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "How dare you."

Lylia wearily says, "Oh, do stop glaring. Someone read a missive that was dropped."

Lylia waves her hand in a dismissive gesture.

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "You could've read the envelope. You spied on me."

You frown.

Lylia says, "The Prelate gets his mail regardless. How fortunate you are that someone retrieved the letter instead of throwing it down the well."

Lylia says, "You should be grateful that he received it still, just as I was grateful to have heard word of it."

Lylia asks, "Or would you like to charge me with spying as well as cowardice?"

Lylia raises an eyebrow.

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "And what great truths did you learn?"

Lylia says, "That you consider me 'unfriendly.'."

Lylia chuckles.

Lylia says, "I find it almost endearing."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "That I am afraid of the witch Raznel? That Stone has returned? That I want to displace the blood marble."

Lylia says, "These are not news to me."

Lylia says, "And I would welcome a visit from the Prelate. This one, at least."

You say, "But no, you intercept a confidential communication between a deacon and his prelate and the best you can derive from that is that the deacon thinks you might be unfriendly."

Lylia dryly says, "He is a practical man and would elucidate for you the difference between faith and rigidity."

Lylia warns, "I would not make such accusations as that, Irar. The letter was not 'intercepted.' I heard word of it."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "You realize I could've proclaimed you a heretic witch, a monster, an abomonation, evilto be burned."

Lylia narrows her eyes.

Lylia flatly says, "Do so, if you wish."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I just told him I was worried we weren't friends."

Speaking to Lylia, you ask, "Why would you even do this? What information was possibly gained that helped you?"

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I just wanted to bless a new altar and was worried."

Lylia asks, "We are back to your wanting to paint yourself in glory that you have not burned me at the stake. Is this how knights earn their spurs, Irar? Failing to rape, burn, or murder?"

Lylia raises an eyebrow.

Lylia says, "Or how Deacons earn Second Watcher, perhaps."

Lylia says, "You assume I did this on purpose, Irar."

Lylia says, "Which means you are once again assuming you are important enough to bear watching."

Lylia smiles quietly to herself.

Lylia says, "You are not Grishom Stone. He bears watching."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "No, I don't think you did it on purpose."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I think you saw an opportunity and took it."

Lylia coolly says, "Thank you for that shred of courtesy."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "I really don't understand why, Lylia."

You shake your head.

Lylia says, "I could write you a list."

Lylia dryly says, "In small words."

(Lylia ticks off points on her fingers. fairly spitting her words in rapid succession.)

Lylia says, "Called me a coward."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "When you're two thousand years old and all your memories turn to dust in your mouth, enjoy your smug knowledge."

Lylia says, "Threatened diplomatic relationships."

(Lylia continues relentlessly as though she hadn't even heard you.)

Lylia says, "Accused me of spying."

Lylia says, "Defamed my greatest virtues."

You ask, "How did you know of my letter?"

You ask, "How did you know of my letter, Lylia?"

Lylia asks, "As I said, it was dropped. Someone brought it to my attention. Would you not try to return an envelope you found to some authority?"

Lylia raises an eyebrow.

You say, "Bull shit."

Lylia says, "Add another to the list. Accusing me of lying."

Speaking to Lylia, you say, "In four hundred years you should lie better than that."

Lylia says, "It is no lie."

You exclaim, "It was dropped!"

Lylia incredulously asks, "Why would I lie about something so small?"

You hear an unpleasant wet crunching sound from the shadows.

You exclaim, "Oh, the Deacon's letter given to a guard at the outpost was somehow dropped in between the gate and the barracks!"

Lylia says, "At some point, the letter was dropped, yes, and then brought to my attention thereafter. I do not know its full provenance."

You shake your head.

Lylia asks, "How would I?"

You say, "I am not that foolish."

(Lylia knocks a quill from her desk.)

You say, "My letter was dropped in between the gate and the Prelate's desk."

Lylia asks, "Oh, no. Look at that. Here we are, in this office, and a quill has dropped! What has become of it?"

Lylia wrings her hands.

You say, "And it made its way to you."

Lylia leans forward.

You hear an unpleasantly wet slurp and faint crunching in the shadows.

(Lylia gets the quill and puts it in its proper place on the desk, squaring it neatly.)

Lylia simply says, "Yes."

You say, "You could have at least thought up a more clever story."

Lylia says, "That is the story I was told of it."

Lylia looks thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs.

You ask, "You have four hundred years on me, and the best you have is that it was dropped within a few dozen meters?"

Lylia smoothly asks, "Would you like to recant on calling me a liar, or would you like me to become the 'unfriendly mayor' you wrote about, Irar?"

Lylia says, "I have shown remarkable forbearance as you stood here in MY office, breathing MY air, and accusing me of everything from cowardice to lying..."

Lylia stands up.

Lylia walks toward you.

Lylia asks, "And then you wish to be applauded for failing to denounce me?"

You ask, "You are honestly trying to tell me that my letter was intercepted within that short of a distance.. and then you thought it right to read a private letter from me to the Prelate?"

Lylia silkily says, "Oh, I would like to see you try."

Consequence of Challenging a Mayor's Authority

You ask, "What gives you the right to read a letter from me to the Prelate?"

You say, "It is no law of the Landing."

Lylia harshly asks, "What gives you the right to stand before me as though you are the one who orders me about!?"

You say, "I am a citizen bringing my concerns to you, as all are given the right to do."

You say, "And you are a public servant, elected to serve the wishes of the electorate."

Lylia counters, "No, you are a zealot who has forgotten how much forbearance it takes to listen to these calumnies!"

You say, "You are honor bound to honor our orders."

Shadows dance between Lylia's outstretched fingers as she issues a command in archaic Faendryl.

Lylia gestures at you.

 CS: +540 - TD: +326 + CvA: -21 + d100: +90 == +283
 Warding failed!

Your right leg explodes!

You fall screaming to the ground grasping your mangled right leg!

You are stunned 3 rounds!

You are no longer stunned.

You struggle, but fail to stand.

Lylia commands, "Now kneel, and hear me!"

You struggle, but fail to stand.

You struggle, but fail to stand.

Roundtime: 6 sec.

Lylia glares at you.

Something pulls you to your feet.

You say, "I will not."

You hear someone chuckling.

Lylia says, "Then get out, or die."

Lylia says, "Friendship? Never, not this side of the grave."

You ask, "You'd turn to violence?"

You say, "You've taken off my leg because we disagreed."

You say, "You've lost control."

Lylia asks, "I shall revel in grinding the dust of your children's children beneath my well-shod feet. Why would I wish friendship with you?"

A severed human leg flings itself in to the air one last time, then falls to the ground, still twitching.

You say, "Call me a zealout but I'd never harm you."

You say, "You are my Mayor."

Lylia says, "I do not befriend the bleating sheep that provides me with cheese or the rat that steals it."

A severed human leg pulsates unpleasantly a bit, dripping blood.

Lylia says, "Good. Then hear me when I order you out."

Shadows part along the wall and Cruxophim steps out of the darkness.

Bits of dangling flesh fall from a severed human leg.

Cruxophim surreptitiously glances at a severed human leg.

Lylia turns around.

Cruxophim leans against the door, taking a momentary rest.

Speaking to Cruxophim, Lylia says, "Ah, hello, dear."

The severed human leg finally stops twitching and decays away.

Lylia smiles.

Cruxophim gives Lylia a strong, encouraging smile.

Lylia smoothly says, "The Deacon was just leaving."

Lylia smiles at you.

Cruxophim wipes some blood off his face with his hand.

You say, "The Deacon was not just leaving."

Lylia asks, "Really?"

You say, "The Deacon was just brutally murdered."

Lylia asks, "You are going to remain here to accuse me more?"

Lylia says, "Murdered."

Lylia laughs!

You say, "Near enough."

Speaking dubiously to you, Cruxophim observes, "You don't look very murdered to me."

Speaking to Cruxophim, Lylia asks, "Is he dead, then?"

You have a completely severed right leg.

You say, "I'm missing a bloody leg."

You ask, "How did that happen?"