Dread Mage

"Do you think you deserve no punishment for such a deed?" Vell asked.

"No, I truly do not. I even believe that I should be thanked for it," the elf responded.

"You deserve something for it," Vell said, and in one step, he closed the gap between him and the elf.

He put his hand on her head, and everything darkened as he said, "Sin."

The elf's eyes went white and rolled over while she went limp and fell to the ground.

The orc drew her weapon, a war hammer, and posed in a stance ready to strike, "What did you do?"

"I've killed her," Vell stated as a fact.

"Even though I care a great deal about the evil she has done, I cannot allow you to go without being punished yourself," she said.

"What would you have done with a child killer?" He asked her.

"We would have had a tribunal with the rest of our band to give her a fitting sentence."

"Oh, a bandit's tribunal. I would have loved to see one of those. What are the punishments?"

"It depends on the severity of the crime. Deprivation of privileges, imprisonment, and, in some cases, even death."

"How about this one? Tell me, how would you have found out? Would any of you have returned to the village, much less check on those you have murdered? Do you have bandit detectives and investigators?"

She was silent but produced a deep growl and then struck at Vellichor.

He dodged. The wall behind him was torn down with the force of her blow.

She swung her hammer fast and with deadly precision, but Vell seemed one with the air as all her strikes missed him.

One of them even seemed to phase through the mage.

This went on until the room was entirely smashed up and Vell declared, "Enough of this," and blocked the war hammer with his staff, one-handed.

"Do you truly think she deserves to live?" He asked as he pushed the staff further.

The orc lost ground in their battle, even while using both of her hands to struggle against the strength of the mage with his staff, and faltered, being forced down to one knee.

"She, herself, knew it to be wrong. She faltered so much that she couldn't even bring herself to remove the sword from her victim's stomach after she was finished; rather, let it remain there, and not use such a stained sword again."

"Hypocrite is what you are!" The orc yelled, straining against the mage. "How can you judge her for her wrongdoing, but what are you doing is the same? Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?"

An audience of bandits had formed around them as there were giant holes in their little building where everyone could see what was going on.