Lone silhouette of a shape barely defined as man, stirred from the savagery put on display. Hunched over in captive danglement. Chains conceived from iron, that bound wrist on either side; arms sprawled wide across an yew lumber plank upon his backside. The culprit of his suspension. Silver carpenter nails driven through the crease of dual palms, the anchor which kept him. With root of it's structure that barely held the creature upright. Solidified in soil and rock upon an vast field unhindered from tree lines and it's potential coverage from the sun at daybreak, held promise of an foreordained burn. Proclaimed punishment over the death toll he orchestrated within the nearby village.
" Psst, hey.. yeh -- lookin' at'ya , dove. " His expression bore intrigue despite what marred the depiction; seared wounds from flame and silver the night prior had made it hard to determine a face at all, with all what destruction wrought. A lone Cerulean hue; with it's distressed ring of carmine loitering the outer iris edge, compared off it's swollen and charred twin -- perceived, for now, as his only form of sight. Peaking out from sweat dipped tresses and discoloured blemishes.
His brow pressed amid determination whilst he called out to the strange scent. Trying to vert his gaze as much he could muster off it's partially blind position his head was obstructed to be in. The collar and lock union tethering him to surrounding chain. Which obscured his point of view any further than a marginal lift.
" I ain't done no wrong, they gon' an nabbed tha wrong man -- please, " he ushered in convincing distress. Pain layered it's cadence. Time was of the essence whilst morning light threatened it's delivered misery along indicative dew and atmospheric shift.
" Help a feller out, will y'ah ? Unbind me , I ain't got tha strength -- mercy, please ! " Urgency had risen such pleas from the temperature spike in early prime spiraling him into mild panic. " I'll fr'ever be n' yer debt ! I'll offer y'ah coin ! " Sold exclaim barely reached above a whimpering catch. " 'Ave plenty o'it -- anyt'in ye want ! Jus' help me .. " Twisting tongue slithered onto foreign lilt absentmindedly with cost over the propinquity inner turmoil folded.
