Orson
The rogues sneered as the guards dragged one of them out of the room. He was lanky and his hair dishevelled. He smelled weird and I couldn't feel any emotion of a wolf in him.
“Tie him to the chair. His legs and hands. It should be tight enough to make him feel pain.” I ordered, settling on a chair.
The guards threw him roughly on the leather chair and he tried headbutting one of the guards. I laughed as the guard gave him a knock on the head and a short warning.
“That's enough. Where are the tools? Bring them and the bucket of ice.” I ordered, rolling my sleeves.
The guards walked into a small room and came out shortly with a bucket of ice, a box which includes different death trap tools that could make a man lose his mind and his will to withstand pain.
“Put his
