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"Arryl Tremaine," said the inquisitor, "you have been
found guilty of crimes against the laws set down by the
Kingpriest of Istar and Paladine himself. To argue against
those laws is to argue against your very faith."
Arryl said nothing, his mind dazed as he tried to
understand what was happening.
"You are hereby sentenced to the Games, there to train
and fight for your eventual freedom ... if Paladine deems
you worthy of salvation."
THE GAMES? As with everything else, even Arryl's
sentence bordered on the absurd, the unbelievable. The
Games were death itself, senseless, bloody conflicts that
were AGAINST the laws of Paladine, as set forth in the
Oath and the Measure.
"Place him in a cell for the night and see to it that he is
sent to the arena first thing in the morning," the inquisitor
ordered. Brother Efram bowed. To Arryl, the inquisitor
said, "May the Kingpriest watch over your soul, Sir
Knight"
The three hooded clerics rose. Arryl shook free his
guards' hands and marched out, glaring balefully at the
inquisitors. His mind noted and locked on one feature
concerning the third inquisitor, the silent one. Arryl tried to
hold back to get a better look, but the guards shoved him
toward the doors
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