The air in the underground cell hung heavy with the scent of dampness and despair. Forrest knew that place very well. So many times, duty bound, he had to interrogate people in this exact spot that the irony was not lost on him as he knelt on the unforgiving stone floor, gasping in ragged breaths.
"I have to give it to you, you are holding on much better than I expected," Xorion commented, wiping his gloves on a towel held by his servant girl, eitr leaving dark sizzling traces on it. "Of course, it helps that I can't play with you to my fullest extent, but— at least I am having fun."
"That makes one of us!" Forrest spat blood on the floor. It was unusually dark, most likely blended with eitr.
"Ah," Xorion sighed mockingly, his eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement as he relished the sigh
