"Freak!"
"Monster!"
"Devil!"
The crowd jeered angrily at Yithare as he was forced through the procession, just behind the various freelancers and mercenaries. Two guards accompanied the witch doctor as he was paraded through, heavy objects thudding against his body. The crowd was obviously aggravated with his presence, and did not hesitate to show it, not caring for the guards they sometimes hit with their haphazard projectiles. Still, Yithare bore it, turning the other cheek. He knew he would be subjected to such torture upon being captured, but he prefered to look at the silver lining. As long as life ran through his blood, there was hope.
So, through his skin was stretched tight over his bones, and his body was scarred from the beatings he received, he held his masked head high, knowing that someday, his demons would take pleasure in ripping these men to shreds. A slight flame flickered within his eyes as the daydream played out in his head, but stayed at a mere ember.
Even that trace bit of magic stirred the steel beast that gnawed at his wrists. The slightest sign of anything unnatural woke the cuffs, which drained him of his energy, leaving him cold and tired. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine. The nerve of these mortals, daring to chain him- his revenge would be sweet.
But the time for daydreaming didn't last long- as the barrage of various items ceased, more soldiers swarmed around Yithare, spears raised, as if Yithare was actually able to do anything at this point. After multiple pokes and prods, he was led into the castle, being watched like a mouse under the gaze of a hawk. Clearly, this was important. Yithare gazed in awe at the riches of the palace as he was shoved through- his entire life had been a poor one. The splendor of the place made him stop, only to be rewarded with a quick backhanded strike from a guard, prompting him to enter the dining area, where he was violently shoved to his knees.
The scarce population of the room gave him disgusted looks, as was expected. Yithare's mouth watered at the aromas of food that filled the room, though he knew that he would be treated to no such thing, being the 'monster' that he was. So he stood tall and proud, despite the shackles that covered his frail body, and the five guards standing by him, spears raised. Yithare was truly only there to get the others used to the fact that they would be working with the enemy.