The bound human ceased him attempts at freeing himself from the bonds and forced his gaze to focus on the old, one-eyed orc that had entered the tent.

Jacob felt his heart race increase as the orc exchanged the staff for the knife, so much so that he barely caught the words the old creature spoke. [i]"Killing him would be uncalled for ..."[i] The human forced himself to calm down as those words sunk in. Perhaps this orc was slightly less vicious than the ones that had burned his face with the stick from the fire pit. Of course, it was probably more likely that this orc meant that the messenger was to be further tortured for the entertainment of the foul creatures until he finally died. 

The thought made the pit in his stomach tighten. "Could cut these bonds," he voice sounded dry and raspy, but he managed to get the words out, "and grant me a blade." Not that he expected the orc to do any such thing.