appear as though he had a mouth full of cobwebs. More importantly however, it was the hated harsh-voiced man!
Rancoth wanted to leap up and throttle him, but even if he wasn't bound he couldn't have. He was too weak from lack of food, water, and a restless sleep.
They had done their jobs well. He didn't know what kind of shape Dorbin was in--probably worse than him since he had been kicked every time he made a sound, but he knew that he himself was nearly broken. If only he could have some water, maybe that would make a difference.
"Waaahweerr…" he managed through his gag. Muffled though his speech was, it was clear what he meant.
"Oh, you want some water, bright eyes? Well too bad, Mic's camp hasn't lasted this long by being a bunch of fools. There isn't a breaths chance in hell that I'm moving that gag. You might summon a rock to fall on my head, or turn me into something unnatural," he said with mock fear, and a grin.
"GGGGEEEEBBB AAHH OOHY UM WAAERR UU HOG!" Dorbin attempted to shout.
A look of pure hatred flashed across the man's features before he stood erect again. "I thought I taught you to shut…up…TOADY!" He kicked Dorbin thrice, once for each pause in his hate-filled exclamation, the third and final time hardest of all as he spat out the cruel moniker he was using for Dorbin.
"That's enough, Crujen. Get a tube to slide under the gag, and put some water down the boy. We wouldn't want him to die of thirst," came an impossibly deep and commanding voice from a shadowed corner.
The man glared down at Dorbin for another moment before responding. "Sure thing, Mic, whatever you say." Crujen turned and left through the tunnel.
After Crujen returned he slid the end of a copper tube past Rancoth's gag. The cool water felt wonderful, but was hard to swallow with the gag still in his mouth. The man in the shadows ordered Crujen to un-gag Dorbin and then dismissed him. As Crujen turned to leave Rancoth did his best to mumble a thanks for the water.
Crujen stopped and looked over his shoulder, "imagine that, Mic, a bright eyes with manners. You're welcome, kid, but lose the toady." He waved to the shadowed corner, "I'll be outside if you need anything," and he left.
"Who the hell arre you!? And what the fuck do you want?" Dorbin demanded. Glaring at the shadows.
"My name is McRoy Connery, but I'm called McRoy the Red, and I need your help." As he spoke the man stepped into the light where Dorbin and Rancoth could finally see him.
He was the largest, most powerfully built man either of them had ever seen. He was a Hulden, which surprised neither of them, but his sheer mass was astounding. He was easily seven and a half feet tall if not eight. He was adorned in long black trousers, which Rancoth and Dorbin could have easily picked a leg and stood in with plenty of room to spare. He had long gray-streaked black hair and a full, thick, bushy black beard. His left eye was missing, and a long ugly scar traced from the center of his forehead down through the empty and shriveled socket.
"Arre ye daft? You don't kidnap and abuse people you want help frrom!" Dorbin exclaimed, bewilderment and anger plainly evident on his face.
McRoy produced a lopsided grin thanks to the scar on his face, "I assume you were headed to the crystal city for a reason. I could not afford to have you refuse my plea based on your own goals and intentions. So I ordered my men to bring you here by any means necessary. I do apologize for the bindings and the gags. We simply can't take chances with magic casters." His last comment was directed solely at Rancoth.
"And, as for Crujen's actions and temper towards you, my little friend—well, he has reasons for his malice, which are not mine to reveal. I will however guarantee you, that he will not harm you again without provocation on your part." McRoy then crossed his huge tree-like arms in front of his massive barreled chest.
"What good is
Rancoth wanted to leap up and throttle him, but even if he wasn't bound he couldn't have. He was too weak from lack of food, water, and a restless sleep.
They had done their jobs well. He didn't know what kind of shape Dorbin was in--probably worse than him since he had been kicked every time he made a sound, but he knew that he himself was nearly broken. If only he could have some water, maybe that would make a difference.
"Waaahweerr…" he managed through his gag. Muffled though his speech was, it was clear what he meant.
"Oh, you want some water, bright eyes? Well too bad, Mic's camp hasn't lasted this long by being a bunch of fools. There isn't a breaths chance in hell that I'm moving that gag. You might summon a rock to fall on my head, or turn me into something unnatural," he said with mock fear, and a grin.
"GGGGEEEEBBB AAHH OOHY UM WAAERR UU HOG!" Dorbin attempted to shout.
A look of pure hatred flashed across the man's features before he stood erect again. "I thought I taught you to shut…up…TOADY!" He kicked Dorbin thrice, once for each pause in his hate-filled exclamation, the third and final time hardest of all as he spat out the cruel moniker he was using for Dorbin.
"That's enough, Crujen. Get a tube to slide under the gag, and put some water down the boy. We wouldn't want him to die of thirst," came an impossibly deep and commanding voice from a shadowed corner.
The man glared down at Dorbin for another moment before responding. "Sure thing, Mic, whatever you say." Crujen turned and left through the tunnel.
After Crujen returned he slid the end of a copper tube past Rancoth's gag. The cool water felt wonderful, but was hard to swallow with the gag still in his mouth. The man in the shadows ordered Crujen to un-gag Dorbin and then dismissed him. As Crujen turned to leave Rancoth did his best to mumble a thanks for the water.
Crujen stopped and looked over his shoulder, "imagine that, Mic, a bright eyes with manners. You're welcome, kid, but lose the toady." He waved to the shadowed corner, "I'll be outside if you need anything," and he left.
"Who the hell arre you!? And what the fuck do you want?" Dorbin demanded. Glaring at the shadows.
"My name is McRoy Connery, but I'm called McRoy the Red, and I need your help." As he spoke the man stepped into the light where Dorbin and Rancoth could finally see him.
He was the largest, most powerfully built man either of them had ever seen. He was a Hulden, which surprised neither of them, but his sheer mass was astounding. He was easily seven and a half feet tall if not eight. He was adorned in long black trousers, which Rancoth and Dorbin could have easily picked a leg and stood in with plenty of room to spare. He had long gray-streaked black hair and a full, thick, bushy black beard. His left eye was missing, and a long ugly scar traced from the center of his forehead down through the empty and shriveled socket.
"Arre ye daft? You don't kidnap and abuse people you want help frrom!" Dorbin exclaimed, bewilderment and anger plainly evident on his face.
McRoy produced a lopsided grin thanks to the scar on his face, "I assume you were headed to the crystal city for a reason. I could not afford to have you refuse my plea based on your own goals and intentions. So I ordered my men to bring you here by any means necessary. I do apologize for the bindings and the gags. We simply can't take chances with magic casters." His last comment was directed solely at Rancoth.
"And, as for Crujen's actions and temper towards you, my little friend—well, he has reasons for his malice, which are not mine to reveal. I will however guarantee you, that he will not harm you again without provocation on your part." McRoy then crossed his huge tree-like arms in front of his massive barreled chest.
"What good is
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