It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Three locks' scratchings translate to the Common equivalent of 'open me', one of the locks' scratchings warns the party not to open it. you discovers that the lock saying 'No' is trapped, and the ones saying 'Yes' aren't.
DM: A moment passes and you see stepping out of both sides of the hallway a number of hooded figures. Five. Ten. 15 individuals then begin to close in, all hoods up, cloaks around them, you can see through the dim light the crest of chins. Those of you that have darkvision, you can see some features, they all are humanoid, around human height, a few that are smaller, whether they be younger or halfling or gnomish in origin, you can't really make out their details in this circumstance, but they all close in as you guys all stand there in the center of the hallway.
Player: I do start unlacing, and I say, I'm one of you. And I show the tattoo on my back.
DM: As this happens, you can see there's a part in the crowd, and one much larger than the rest of the members of the Clasp steps forward, pushing others out of the way. You see a very thick square jaw piercing out from underneath the shadowed hood, and the hand pulls it back and as you can now see the crooked pointed ears, snarling nose and underbite of a mostly orcish half-orc, one you've encountered once before--
Player: It's Modeth?
DM: No, no. Modeth was human, you killed Modeth. The orc steps forward and looks about the group and goes, (grunts) "Seems like you stumbled into an early grave."
Player: I didn't stumble, I've been here before. I've a fucked up past with this organisation but I've come to tell you-- And I'm pointing at the tattoo.
DM: He reaches out and grabs your arm and spins you around to look at the tattoo on your back violently. Like a ragdoll. You're being treated like a child. (grunts) Releases you for a second, as you fall off-balance for a second but catch yourself. He has his other hand at his belt side, and you can see what looks to be the the pommel of the dagger at the ready and he goes--
Player: Sovereign Uriel knows you have Daxio here. Uriel wants him. You are in danger. This whole organisation is in danger with him here.
DM: "Silence! Who else knows you're here?"
