Transmission RT3107 ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION START CODE NOT FOUND--- ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION SENDER NOT IDENTIFIED--- ---PARSING SALVAGEABLE DATA--- ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION CLIPPED--- but, there is one more thing I must tell you. It all happened during one of our Lord Steward's Sunday assemblies last month. He was finishing his speech, telling the crowd that as long as the harrier and enemy of The Crown, Blackburn was free, the strict eight o'clock curfew in the city shall be observed. It was then, that there was a cry of "Wait!" from the back of the crowd. The steward froze mid-sentence and the crowd parted to let two figures make their way to the front. The first, we were all surprised to notice, was Blackburn himself, hands and feet tied and mouth gagged. Behind him came what we presume to be a man, although no more than his hands could actually be made out from under his thick black robes. By this time the steward had somewhat regained his composure and just as he was about to start speaking again (I must give the devil his dues, the figure in the black cloak had his timing down to science) the same voice came from somewhere within the cloak. "There is no need for curfew! I have the enemy of the crown right here. Bring forth the royal executioner, for as we all know, the punishment for his crimes is death!" "Th-the royal executioner is at the crown's c-capital" stammered the steward "and it will be at least a fortnight before we can get him here. In the meantime, I would very much like to see the face of our saviour. If you would be so kind as to remove your cloak..." The stranger cut him off again at this point. "My name is not important. What's important is that I have the harrier and enemy of the crown here. And if you will not give him his just and swift punishment, I will." The steward looked around, unsure of himself. The dark stranger waited a few seconds, then turned to the crowd and pointing to his prisoner, yelled "Wwhat is the punishment for his crimes?" The people replied, enthusiastically: "DEATH!" What came next, happened very fast. Had one blinked an eye at the wrong time, he would've missed it. The black-cloaked man grabbed a handful of Blackburn's hair in his left hand and with his right produced a mean-looking battle axe from within his cloak. Then, before anyone could do anything, he deftly cut off Blackburn's head. As the steward motioned for the guards to get the stranger, both the axe and the severed head disappeared within his cloak. Then, when the nearest guards got to the man and grabbed both his arms, there was a loud banging noise, and a light came from inside the cloak, suggesting some sort of explosive. It wasn't that however, since the next moment, the guards found themselves holding up a completely empty cloak. Neither the stranger, his weapons or Blackburn's head was ever found. The curfew has since been lifted as Blackburn's reign of terror has seemingly ended. There is one last part to the story, which isn't public knowledge. On the evening of the Sunday I've discussed, I broke into the parlor of the town mortician. I'd had a strange feeling ever since seeing the headless corpse carried away, as if it wasn't quite the right build for Blackburn. I was right in my suspicion too, for when I examined the corpse, I noticed "Blackburn" had grown back the toes I myself extracted from him in questioning three years ago. ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION CLIPPED--- clear that we must identify him again ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION CLIPPED--- be stopped by all means necessary. Peace be with all my brothers. Over. ---ERROR: TRANSMISSION END CODE NOT FOUND---