Gorosk had watched the "judgement" of the two men and it was now his turn.  He had been called to step forward and allow judgement.  As they stepped across between the cells he stepped forward to meet them, trying to perform his own assessment.  One younger, one older, both seemed to have the air of men simply going about their business dispassionately.  In the seconds he had to consider this Gorosk was not able to decide if that should calm his fears that this was all a show to justify their executions to the militia.

"I am Gorosk," he said stepping up to the bars and meeting the gaze of the men.

Perhaps this was it.  Perhaps he would find out if his blood was cursed, if the curse had damned him, if his time with the Brotherhood of the Perfected Hand had been wasted.  There was little he could do as of yet but go along with their process.  Gorosk would face this judgement head on, come what may.