Irishman
Well-Endowed Member
It had been four days since Ricoh had been taken away from the mining floor after accidentally stepping backwards into an ebony guard. The guard took offense to this and beat the redguard. Ricoh, being a headstrong young man, had not submitted and instead laughed at the guards attempts to injure him. A second guard had quickly come over and knocked Ricoh out with the butt of his mace and dragged him off the floor. This incident had happened in front of Cyrus and he feared for his young friends life. After a couple of days, Silvertongue conceded to himself that they had probably killed him.
Seeing him in this state now though, riled Cyrus up more than having thought him dead. Sure, Ricoh liked to run his mouth a bit, but uncleanly cutting out someones tongue than dragging them back into this festering place was asking for infection and a slow, excruciating death. Already the usually strong, energetic man was declining the food that Jeelius was offering him. He instead dropped the brave act and slumped into his bedroll.
A commotion over in a corner of the sleeping quarters snapped Cyrus out of his thoughts of revenge. He looked over to see the two new women being harassed. The redguard turned back around and busied himself with cooking some more skeever in the small permanent fire pit in the ground. He knew what was likely happening, and was in no mood to cheer on the filthy rapists. A rather manly sounding yell made Cyrus look up at Jeelius, who was looking past him at the incident. "well that's not something you see everyday!" The argonian stated, before springing to his feet and going over to get a closer look. Cyrus turned back around and saw the two women dragging an injured and bleeding man to a darker corner. They dumped his body and several skeevers pounced on him, tearing into his flesh.
Silvertongue was impressed.
Obviously not just two more skirts, ready to roll over at the first sign of hardship.
He went over to his bedroll and rearranged the blankets, getting ready for bed. With his connections through the prison and outside world, Cyrus had one of the more comfortable beds. It had a large bear skin blanket and was sitting up off the ground on a slab of stone. It was nice and close to the fire pit and was up against the wall, surrounded by the bedrolls of his group. Cyrus smiled to himself, noting how he had made something out of stint in Drahonnal.
With these New Bloods, something might change for the better in this place...
And with that thought, he closed his eyes, shut out all the background noise and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Seeing him in this state now though, riled Cyrus up more than having thought him dead. Sure, Ricoh liked to run his mouth a bit, but uncleanly cutting out someones tongue than dragging them back into this festering place was asking for infection and a slow, excruciating death. Already the usually strong, energetic man was declining the food that Jeelius was offering him. He instead dropped the brave act and slumped into his bedroll.
A commotion over in a corner of the sleeping quarters snapped Cyrus out of his thoughts of revenge. He looked over to see the two new women being harassed. The redguard turned back around and busied himself with cooking some more skeever in the small permanent fire pit in the ground. He knew what was likely happening, and was in no mood to cheer on the filthy rapists. A rather manly sounding yell made Cyrus look up at Jeelius, who was looking past him at the incident. "well that's not something you see everyday!" The argonian stated, before springing to his feet and going over to get a closer look. Cyrus turned back around and saw the two women dragging an injured and bleeding man to a darker corner. They dumped his body and several skeevers pounced on him, tearing into his flesh.
Silvertongue was impressed.
Obviously not just two more skirts, ready to roll over at the first sign of hardship.
He went over to his bedroll and rearranged the blankets, getting ready for bed. With his connections through the prison and outside world, Cyrus had one of the more comfortable beds. It had a large bear skin blanket and was sitting up off the ground on a slab of stone. It was nice and close to the fire pit and was up against the wall, surrounded by the bedrolls of his group. Cyrus smiled to himself, noting how he had made something out of stint in Drahonnal.
With these New Bloods, something might change for the better in this place...
And with that thought, he closed his eyes, shut out all the background noise and fell into a dreamless sleep.