In the morning, I held a foul-smelling piece of bread in my blood-stained hands, numbly chewing on it. A guard accompanied a group of black-cloaked lizardmen to my cell door, fawning over them. The guard pointed at me, bending over with a flattering smile, and said, "Sir, look, this is the apeman. He's tough; a few of our guys got hurt trying to question him."
One of the lizardmen glanced at him with a cold, disdainful look. "That's only because you're incompetent. How could an apeman like him have any real skills?" By "an apeman like me," he meant I was shackled, weakened by chains, and poisoned by them.
"We're taking him now. After we're gone, you know what to do, right?" the lizardman asked the guard.
"Don't worry, sir, I've got a body ready that matches his size!" The guard quickly
