"You... you... what do you mean?" The lumber merchant was utterly shocked.
"Have you never lied? Have you never broken a promise? Have you never done something that shames your conscience? If you were to die here today, standing before the gates of paradise, do you really think you could pass the gatekeeper's questioning?" The bard paused for a moment, then added with a gleeful smile: "If paradise truly exists, that is."
The lumber merchant was so overwhelmed with sweat that he couldn't answer.
"Well then, dear Mr. Mikhail." The bard turned the lumber merchant's head, forcing the latter to lift his head and follow his gaze around the tavern, pointing at Majiya and his son, the Blonde Swordsman, and old Dusaack: "What do you think of them? Are they good people?"
"Who dares claim that this father and son never entertained the idea of taking advantage of you?"
"Who dares claim that this blonde with a sword never thought of robbing you?"
