Bene takes a seat on one of the pillows, glancing at the door all the while. Fleeing isn't too becoming of a magister's son, and will also implicate him, but it's always useful as a last resort. "Those Templars tortured me," he says, and the vitriol in his tone, the hardness in his eyes declares this to be true. "When I first arrived, they thought I was Venatori, even though I told them I wasn't. They hurt me. They shut me in a dark room all alone, for..." his anger dwindles, but only as the result of a genuine lapse in memory. How could he tell the time, when there was nothing to look at? "...a long time." His fear radiates from him, and he checks the opening of the tent.
no subject
Bene takes a seat on one of the pillows, glancing at the door all the while. Fleeing isn't too becoming of a magister's son, and will also implicate him, but it's always useful as a last resort.
"Those Templars tortured me," he says, and the vitriol in his tone, the hardness in his eyes declares this to be true. "When I first arrived, they thought I was Venatori, even though I told them I wasn't. They hurt me. They shut me in a dark room all alone, for..." his anger dwindles, but only as the result of a genuine lapse in memory. How could he tell the time, when there was nothing to look at?
"...a long time." His fear radiates from him, and he checks the opening of the tent.
"They'd kill me without a thought."