"Then that's probably the best we can do. By the authority that Her Majesty Queen Galfrey has vested in the Fifth Mendevian Crusade, and that the Crusade has vested in me as Knight-Commander, the crimes in question having been witnessed by me and by eight adventurers of that Crusade, I find that you have committed murder, necromancy, and treason against Mendev, that taking the form of raising her dead as soldiers against her, and I sentence you to death. Do you have an opinion on the disposition of your possessions."

The man blinks wildly at him. 

"You could leave them to the Church of Shelyn, in the hopes they could use them to heal some of what you did. Or to the care of teenagers who are talented wizards and may be seduced into demonic cults without good guidance. I am not committed to honoring your preferences here but I'll have them in mind."

"I -" he looks at Sosiel, and then away.

Sosiel can't think what the church would want with a necromancer's spellbook and skull-themed jewelry but he can tell it's not exactly the moment to say that. 

"They can - take the stuff and - help people? I guess? Or you could let me serve the Crusade, crusades need wizards, I'll never do necromancy again -"

Iomedae could probably talk the man to safety. Marit can't, and is abruptly incredibly tired of trying, not that this particular obligation has an exception for 'unless you're really very tired of trying'. 

"I will see if there is a way your possessions can be used to help people. Is there anything else that we should know? Relatives to notify?"

"They're all dead. Everyone's dead. The whole - the whole godsforsaken country - you're losing, you realize that."

"Mendev was indeed losing. Now it is winning. You picked an unfortunate moment to change your side. If there is anything else you want to talk to Seelah about, you should do that now."

"Can't we - give him a shot - wizards are useful, and a lot of people - really badly screw up, when they're young -"

"No, we cannot. I'm sorry." I can run either a Crusade or Nirvana but not both. 

The man's eyes flicker desperately to the door. 

Lann draws his bow. 

"May Pharasma judge you generously," says Marit, and slits the necromancer's throat. 

He has a second more to look bewildered and terrified and start reaching vaguely for his neck and then he collapses.

"Form up and let's get out of here. I'd like to be back at the camp before sunset."

"...do you think he'll be all right?"

"Probably not. Doesn't usually work. - which is to say, it works like I said, but most people can't stop being the person they are, and being scared doesn't make it easier."

"I think most people who do terrible things can be better. They might not know it themselves, and they might die before they find out, but they can."

" - fair enough. They don't, usually. I don't particularly feel attached to the claim that they can't."

"He seemed sincere to me."

"Seelah, I commend your courage and your bravery, and I asked you to do a very difficult thing back there and I expect you did it much better than any of the rest of us could have, and Iomedae would be proud of you" if she were around, which it kind of appears she isn't. 

"But you are a terrible judge of character."

"If you were to attack this camp, how would you do it?"

"...I wouldn't."

"I'm not worried that you might. I am worried that someone else might, and it is good practice to have a plan for everything they might do, if they did try it. And one way to prepare is to ask yourself - how would you do it?"