Post by katydid on May 13, 2017 20:51:29 GMT -5
Thank you to everyone who critiqued! I've already revised and submitted, so no need for further comments.
Two soldiers hurled Dain into the cell with considerably more force than necessary. He bounced off the stone wall in a way which might have broken a bone if he had been human, but dwarves were made of tougher material. He faked being dazed while he analyzed the surroundings.
His face was embedded in hard packed dirt smelling of human waste. Judging by the air quality, he was at least one floor underground, in a stone corner walled in by iron bars. The space was roomy but barren, lacking even a bench. A holding cell, then. Empty, so perhaps there was truth in the street rumors of a recent jailbreak.
Exactly how bad things were remained to be seen. Dain risked lifting his head. Beyond the bars, he saw a dimly lit windowless room, a staircase, a trap door, and two very ugly men rummaging through his belongings.
One, a giant hulk of a man with a scar running down his nose and disfiguring his lip, upended Dain’s pack to shake out what remained onto the floor. The other guard, picking through the assortment of camping gear, food, and clothes, was shorter than his companion, but better-looking, although he had an unusually small nose. Dain dubbed him “Pug-nose” and still felt justified thinking of them as the ugly duo.
Pug-nose pawed through shirts and breeches until he found what he was looking for—a leather coin purse. He and his companion quickly divided up the few silver coins and an assortment of copper.
Two soldiers hurled Dain into the cell with considerably more force than necessary. He bounced off the stone wall in a way which might have broken a bone if he had been human, but dwarves were made of tougher material. He faked being dazed while he analyzed the surroundings.
His face was embedded in hard packed dirt smelling of human waste. Judging by the air quality, he was at least one floor underground, in a stone corner walled in by iron bars. The space was roomy but barren, lacking even a bench. A holding cell, then. Empty, so perhaps there was truth in the street rumors of a recent jailbreak.
Exactly how bad things were remained to be seen. Dain risked lifting his head. Beyond the bars, he saw a dimly lit windowless room, a staircase, a trap door, and two very ugly men rummaging through his belongings.
One, a giant hulk of a man with a scar running down his nose and disfiguring his lip, upended Dain’s pack to shake out what remained onto the floor. The other guard, picking through the assortment of camping gear, food, and clothes, was shorter than his companion, but better-looking, although he had an unusually small nose. Dain dubbed him “Pug-nose” and still felt justified thinking of them as the ugly duo.
Pug-nose pawed through shirts and breeches until he found what he was looking for—a leather coin purse. He and his companion quickly divided up the few silver coins and an assortment of copper.
