"Anathema." gasps the mayor, a feeble meep. He prostrates himself on the ground before you. His limbs splay haphazardly, as when a cupboard is opened, letting fall all the sundry brooms and mops within it. He begins pleading desperately, his obeisance almost childish. "Oh, please do not kill me! I've never seen such a man, please, let me go! Take my jade, my herbs, anything you want!" He seems to have completely missed the point of Rising Echo's demand, his will consumed wholly with fear.

"...and women, or children! Anything, if only you'll let me live! I have been good, I have served my city with virtue...surely I cannot deserve death? O, Deceiver, do you not remember my generosity? How I took you in, a stranger, and made you head my...something or other? I trusted you with something very important, whatever it was! Remember? Oh, do not kill me!"

With the way the mayor quivers and shakes in fear, it is the mercy of the Unconquered Sun himself that he hasn't soiled himself. Even as he speaks to Rising Echo, his eyes remain fixed to the floor, his valor insufficient to meet eyes with the Anathema. He lacks even the presence of mind to call for his guards (though even if he did, would they come to the defense of such a wastrel?). Like a child, he is completely at your mercy.