Wayfarer's

Chapter 16.

Warning: Detailed death/torture. Please read with caution and don't hate me....

Nahar leaned against the back wall, staring blankly at the crowd of people. The man blinked and listened to the roaring of the crowd, followed always by a clash of steel. A hand grasped his shoulder.

"Cenred hasn't returned from his patrol, sir." The man said as he stood at attention. Nahar glanced at the man, clearly annoyed.

"I don't care, frankly. Replace his position and move on. Why must you bother me with stupid issues?!" The leader roared and seized the man's throat, slamming him into into the wall. "If you come to me again with another stupid problem, I'll rip your throat out."

The guard shuddered in fear, shaking his head frantically. Nahar released pressure so the man could speak. "Yes Nahar... sir." Releasing the wretched thing, Nahar watched the man scurry away like a frightened mouse.

Then, right when he thought he was rid of annoyance he heard another voice.

"Nahar! That is your name, correct?"

Nahar turned and a dark expression creased his face. "Depends who's asking." He paused staring down at this man.

He stood a few inches taller than the new comer. As the mysterious man approached his fat stomach jiggled with the rhythm of his shuffling gate. The figures rounded cheeks flashed with color as he wiped away sweat beating on his face.

"Wonderful my good man. I am Niram." The fat man panted as if just walking over had exhausted him. Nahar's face fell in annoyance.

"Be quick about it. I don't have all day." Nahar prompted the shaggy man.

Niram flinched at the harsh tone. "Your fighters; the girl is an excellent warrior. I'll pay a pretty penny for her."

"No."

"Well it be good I asked for the lass instead of the lad. I'll give ya 100 silver."

"I said no. What part of that do you not understand?" Nahar snapped, turning on his heel. The rounder man grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"Good sir-"

Nahar swung around, burying a knife into the stomach of the man and twisted the blade.

"I said no!" Nahar shouted in the man's face and yanked the knife free.

The fat man fell at his feet, gurgling and muttering incoherent words.

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Malgel sighed and shifted his position once again. The youth cringed at the loud movements.

"Nervous?" The voice of Frea called from across the room. Malgel tensed.

"No... Just uncomfortable. It smells like warg feces and I don't know if it's just me... But these bars are digging into my back." The elf muttered, not realizing how childish he actually sounded.

Frea nodded slowly. "Hm, sounds awful." The girl answered flatly.

"But I am sure -positive -certain! That you yourself are also uncomfortable." Malgel added hurriedly. He winced. He sounded like he was complaining about his problems when everyone else was experiencing them too. Just not voicing it like himself.

Frea shook her head, lifting her face to the heavens with a quiet sigh. "I agree it is not pleasant. But what can we do? Nothing. So it isn't worth the breath."

Malgel sunk down the wall, feeling beyond foolish now. Woman were supposed to be the complainers. Not men.

"Yeah... I guess you're right... But in my defense you asked what was wrong-"