Ardraket Oldn

Walking through the makeshift barricades Ardraket looked around at the expressions of fear and terror on the helpless minions that are guarding them. It was so sad that they feared the touch of the reaper, unaware of greater horrors that could befall them. With but a touch and a whisper of a knife their existences would be for naught, reduced from a living, breathing person to less than nothing, unraveled like a poorly made shirt in the span of time between eye blinks. Yet they still had purposes and Ardraket, even with his grisly art and skills felt that his talents would set of radars of greater powers if abused too often.

Listening to Vash Ardraket grunted under his breath as his question. The guards are already shocked and terrified at this point, mentioning that they needed to go to where the “special” prisoners were kept might be enough for the newly promoted office to question these two strangers. Moving his lips slightly, barely uttering breath yet knowing Vash, should he be the least bit competent , will be able to read them clearly.

”Make a show, string them along, give them purpose to go down there.”

The best motivator for those men would be to believe that they were doing a purpose, one with a clear time limit and might require their lives. Judging by what likely happened that might be enough for them to get to the cells in question in the pursuit of clues to their targets.