[🎶 Heads Will Roll – Yeah Yeah Yeahs.]
ANOTHER SLOW MONTH in that dastardly place passed Rafel. Like the annoying dust-drops of a hourglass in a Greenhouse. The prison keepers were not in the least amicable to his condition. He guessed they were payed to be just that—cruel.
He also guessed they were mercs from outside the capital. In the few times their tin-can heads had strolled by his dungeon irons, he'd heard them speak in the foreign tongue of the other southern realms; not Rocasus to the west. Their accents were distinctly garish, their ways vulgar—Rafel had spotted one hefty bodyguard scratching under his armor at his crotch.
Clearly, these hired hands were not used to the proud Eldoria red-and-gold bodysuits. But Lilith payed handsomely, far better [survivor coins] than they'd achieve as cutthroats of a feudal Lord or cruisers in a Skullrider's gang, so they stayed.