[Marsh is centered in the camera's view, the wall behind him plain, rough-hewn grey stone. The light flickers a little, as though not produced by an electronic source, glinting dully against his spikes. His voice is quiet and raspy, but the words are clearly enunciated.]
I am Marsh. I am a warden aboard this vessel.
If you have heard stories of Inquisitors from the others from my world - they are true. But they are not true of me anymore.
If you have not, simply know that I do not wish to hurt anyone.
[His mouth twists faintly, and he reaches up to tap one fingernail against the blunt surface of the left spike.]
Yes, they're real. Yes, they hurt. No, there's nothing to be done about it.
[Since that seems to be what everyone wants to know first. The message ends.]
( Spam for Zane, or anyone else likely to visit Kelsier's cabin while he was coma'ed )
I am Marsh. I am a warden aboard this vessel.
If you have heard stories of Inquisitors from the others from my world - they are true. But they are not true of me anymore.
If you have not, simply know that I do not wish to hurt anyone.
[His mouth twists faintly, and he reaches up to tap one fingernail against the blunt surface of the left spike.]
Yes, they're real. Yes, they hurt. No, there's nothing to be done about it.
[Since that seems to be what everyone wants to know first. The message ends.]
( Spam for Zane, or anyone else likely to visit Kelsier's cabin while he was coma'ed )