When you've been here for as long as Claude has, seeing someone staring blankly at their parchment reading their supposed crimes has become a fairly regular practice; once a month, a new group of people arrive and are either deeply self-recriminating in ways that are helpful to nobody, least of all themselves, or baffled and upset at the injustice that's been waged upon them. This man appears to be one of the latter. Which is better in Claude's book, being that he thinks of guilt as a largely functionless emotion, and anyone with sense should be puzzled by the prospect of being sentenced and punished by an entity without any sense of legislation whatsoever.

"Do you really expect any accuracy from the sort of people that pluck people from their homes without warning?" He says, brow arched as he approaches, hand outstretched. "Claude von Riegan. Welcome to Aldrip. I hope you don't expect anything going forward to make any more sense than that piece of parchment does."