"You know, as much as I find this empire deplorable in its current divine right of ruling, I think I find its people worse," grumbled the bass string of a voice from Xilthruum the Lich as his skeletal fingers bent the corners of the page into the candlelight. He placed down the parchment to look up to his followers to give his next lesson, the massive magnifying lens at the edge of his desk distorting his facial features into a comical, if not grotesque, sight.

"My pupils, use this document as a learning experience. Some here have followed along in laughter and spit, which I say, the latter is justifiable, but those laughing are nothing more than whelps. Some have given it thought. 'To do crime is illegal,' so says the page, doesn't it?" Before someone could give an answer, he chucked the page down onto the desk in a flurry of papyrus and ink, jabbing out an accusatory finger to someone who smirked in the back. "Wrong, you nincompoops! This page is defining what the word 'illegal' is in the context of groups, then happily puts a tack on where the word 'illegal' should be placed! Killing somebody is against the rules, and everyone 'knows' that, but if you don't say it is against the rules, then it isn't breaking a rule, it's just a party foul- something that means very little in the political world and even less to the guard forces above. Each new rule put out by these bureaucrats gets us one step away from doing what we want to do. As far as this declaration is concerned, it has officially made gang activity criminal and prosecutable; something in the past that was wrong, but not even an offense worth fining beyond questioning a citizen who wasn't being arrested. To keep a gang under technically legal patrols is now harder than ever because of this small bundle of words pushed out by a pale little woman who just sat herself down in a chair too big to fit her influence. You laugh here and now at her, but that woman who likely weighs as much as I do is to thank for the destruction of an organization that gave us a cushion of cover and likely comprised of half of your friends. Stop chuckling, start thinking!"

The lich looked back down to his desk to resume his mostly silent and now fuming work while the lecture hall bumbled with people checking out books and asking questions of each other to break the tension. However, despite the fact that his 'pupils' kept socializing, their voices faded away as he made a sudden realization. "Yes," he muttered to nobody in particular as he gave the public doctrine one more read, "what we are doing is wrong. But perhaps I still have ways to make it possible. Very well, Lady Chancellor, I will participate in this cat and mouse chase of yours. Now to decide who is to be the cat..."

(I promise no OOC harm or offense to anyone here, Xilthruum is just mean.)