You are equipped in blood

A spirit of vengeance takes you. Robert's impudence, his callousness, his arrogance will not stand. If he is not your ally, than he is your enemy. Without a word, you rush him, grabbing the sword from the wall. Having been leaning back in his chair and unaware, there was practically nothing Robert could do as he defends himself. He barely had time to sit back up on all four legs of the chair before you were at the ready. Terror washed across his face before agony, as you drove his sword straight through his neck. Blood and bile spread quickly, the sound of iron cutting through organs sickening. You had fought against demonspawn and the undead for so long, you had completely forgotten what it was like to fight the living, and to take a life. Removing the weapon takes some difficulty, and not just because of your weakened state. With a heaving grunt, it comes out, more blood spreading about the place. You inspect it, noticing a dull edge.

"You should have sharpened your blade" You say coldly to his corpse "It would have eased your pain." A twinge of fear moves through your spine, at the thought of someone coming in to see what you've done. Hurriedly, you move the body to the floor to allay immediate sight from outside, and begin to move deeper into the jail cell, looking for anything else that you can plunder before you make a quick escape.

"That was well done" You hear in your head again. "Unexpected, but welcome. I applaud you"

"Shut up, Dreadlord. I don't need your sarcasm, or your tauntings."

"For once, young Mastbreaker, I am being sincere. The infidel deserved it. You were right to kill him."

You hesitate in any response, which he picks up on "You shouldn't be surprised by this. Loyalty is one of the highest virtues in any realm of existence, even in the demonic realms. It's also one of the largest expectations, with severe penalties."

"Betrayers, traitors, deceivers, blasphemers, these are all words for the same crime, a lack of loyalty to your cause, and all should be punished for their transgressions."

"He served his punishment" You respond, regretting the deed now that you have his approval "His exile was punishment enough."

"Was it though?" The dreadlord asked "In your heart, you know better than to believe that. Such taciturn remedies only exist to placate the weak and cowardly. Those who are in the actual business of dispensing justice know that it must be dispensed with haste, precision, and without any sense of remorse or hesitation."

As his poisonous words echo in your brain, you are fortunate enough to find a suit of chain mail kept in a closet. Had Robert worn in it, he might have been protected against you. The fool, you think to yourself. He may not have wanted to worn this in the squelching heat, but the sweat and discomfort would have been worth saving his life. His error is your gain. The armor on, and the stolen blade at your side, you feel vindication in your actions. A necessary action to take, a small infraction that will enable you to correct the larger injustice.

"Is that all?" You hear in your head again "There may yet be greater rewards here, if you bother to look for them..." The dreadlord does not elaborate, nor do you ask it too. Still, the curiosity proves insatiable. Seeing a set of keys on an iron ring, you take them and open up the door to the jail cells, going down a set of stairs. Built underground, the jail is dark, cool, and feels oddly damp and humid. Grabbing a torch from the top, it provides the only illumination in this space.

As you see the cells themselves, you are horrified by what you see. An elvish woman and her child, both thoroughly beaten and abused. Judging by the nature of the injuries, and a lack of attire, you're terrified to imagine what cruelties he may have **** on them. The woman wakes, keeping her voice down, but in urgent need.

"Hey! You! You've gotta get us out of here, before the magistrate comes."

"The magistrate is dead..."

"Thank the Gods" You're a little alarmed to hear such a response, but say nothing "Listen, we haven't done anything wrong. You need to let us go. Please!" She looks behind her, to see the child still sleeping. Her lips press together, her eyes dart as she thinks things over.

"I'll make it worth your while. I'll do whatever you want. Away from her. Just please, let us out of here..."