Bromley

Bromley woke up and looked at the door of the cage. One of his his cell mates was being dragged out of it violently and when he tried to hold onto the bars the hooded man in charge of the orcs slashed against his wrist making him let go. He looked at Bromley and licked the blood from the blade before sheathing it again and smirked.

Bromley woke up to the stench of vomit and waste. His stomach convulsed violently he instinctively brought his hands over it as the feeling of sick trailed a path from the pits of his stomach to his mouth. He folded and grabbed at his skin with force while his right fist reached his lips I his attempt to keep them sealed. He remained motionless for some moments breathing through his sleeve slowly and deeply.

“You shouldn’t go at this hour,” said Anlaf the Forlorn while giving the other man the supplies that he had prepared.