Finally, you are led through more busy areas. The corridors are mostly the same, if slightly more decorated, but the main difference are the people - mainly young men in peasant rags or older men in rich clothing - hustling through. Thankfully most of them seem to be quite busy, not noticing your state of undress, but at least two times, a young man is looking up right at the moment you pass him, allowing you tohear him gasp and turn - and most likely staring at your exposed back...<br/><br/>Finally you arrive at a big hall with an imposing, guarded double door at the far end. To your left there are a few scribes behind desks offer different official services you can't name, but there are bronze plates with scrip most likely naming the office or service offered. Small crowds siege the poor souls though, making them unlikely to notice your predicament. To your right, there is a row of windows, with a bustling street lying beyond. You can't see much there, because of obvious negligence of cleaning duties, but you get a vague impression of a big, lively crowd outside.<br/><br/><br/>You are led through the guarded double doors - the hinges creaking pathetically loud enough not only to be heard through the noise of crowd, but drowning the crowd out - and into a smaller hall. Multiple rows of benches to your left and right form a broad corridor to the center of the room, where a middle aged man almost vanishes behind a massive, slightly elevated writing desk. To the far right are multiple  cushioned seats, one of them occupied with another, well clothed guard you have a vague feeling of negative familiarity, while to the far right there are three men sharing a single bench.<br/><br/>You are roughly led in front of the desk and pushed down, made to kneel at the threat of a Point blank tip of a spear right at your throat. Afterwards your hands are tied with steel chains anchored in the ground, painfully spread as far as possible apart from each other. Only then the middle aged man in front of you, the one behind the massive desk, starts to speak.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: Judge</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Accused, state you full name, occupation, and title if any, so that this court may properly address you.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Only now you notice another man, sitting to the right of the Judge, almost completely hidden behind the desk. He is obviously torn between his duty to write down anything said in this hall, and his desire to stare with big eyes at your chest.  He is so fascinated, that he has to be reminded of his duty by his superior.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from:  Judge</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Accused, you are indicted for being a spy of the rival Nation of Elbiana. The attestor, the captain of the guard told us, he found you trying to sneak into the City and resisting the capture - as testified by your apparent lack of proper clothing</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>The last sentence invites a sneer from the captain, hushed laughing from the three men at the side, and both guards standing behind you, as well as more staring from the poor scribe.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: Judge</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> Accused, what do you have to say on your case?</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>