Torches standing over each corner of the twisted stage illuminate a trembling, near naked man uncomfortably trapped in a pillory facing the crowd and a hooded figure carrying a silver Greatsword and dagger standing on the opposite side. The clamoring of the crown quickly silences as the executioner circles to the left side of accused Lycanthrope. The Greatsword slams into the wooden floorboards. Strogron moans, “Ah, now I can finally get out of this wretched thing, I’m cold as shit.” The executioner glides over to Strogron and turns Strogron’s left hand to face the crowd. He presses the tip of the dagger up against his palm, but nothing happens. Strogron chuckles nervously as the dagger slides down to the tip of his middle finger. Strogron
