(A few hours later, 'The Pit', Veyr's POV)
The unique air of 'The Pit' hit Veyr the moment they arrived, thick and oppressive, carrying the stench of iron, sweat, scorched stone, and old blood that had soaked so deeply into the ground it felt permanent.
*Rattle* *Rattle*
The chains around his wrists tightened and dragged him forward like a tethered animal being led to slaughter, as Raymond walked ahead of him casually, one hand holding the chain loosely as though leading a walking dog, his posture relaxed and unbothered while his boots echoed rhythmically against the blackened stone pathway.
*Scrape* *Thud*
Veyr stumbled once before steadying himself, his bare feet scraping painfully against the rough ground as he was hauled forward past rows of towering barbarians lining the passageway, their massive frames wrapped in scarred armor and bone trinkets, crude weapons resting against their shoulders while eyes filled with raw violence tracked his every step.
"Grrrrrr—"
