The cold shackles dug into the flesh of the Godspar. They had left him in the tavern cellar like some sort of trapped animal, starving and beaten. They thought to taunt him by giving him spoiled food. The look on there faces as he ate it with no issue was priceless to Nicoli. From Praag to Greenhoff, Nicoli had felt nothing but contempt for these people. Contempt, that the whispers would turn to hate.

An apple to the face cuts off his train of thought, his tongue coming out to scoop up some of it's bits. Better then the rats. Being dragged up on to the stake, he dosent scream. He glares, the flies buzzing around him in such mass it could almost be seen as a dark cloud. His eye's meet the sergeants. The stern face of a coward. "May the Raiders take your skulls as trophies, Cowards. Camp in Empire Village? Hide in Empire village. To scared to fight Norsca Raiders. Norsca raiders use bones of fresh Empire men as snacks" he says, a rotten smile on his lips