Things are going a little less well over with Viator. Byerly had tried to make a grab for the dagger on Viator’s belt, but his arm had been just too short. That meant that he wasn’t quite able to snatch back his hand quickly enough, his bony elbow hitting the bars at the wrong angle. This means that Viator has managed to plant a heel on his wrist and is now grinding down quite cruelly.

By does his best to avoid crying out - a bit to avoid distracting the potential escapees from their current task, a bit to just not give the bastard the satisfaction. Consequently, all he gives is a muffled groan.

Viator, meanwhile, is shouting out the names of the nearest guards. The wound did not, unfortunately, scramble his brains enough to stop him from calling for help.