[i]“Pft.”[/i] The dusty, sand-filled spat of dust and liquid, supposed to represent some form or shape of saliva left Gawain's mouth, and landed within not even far enough to come close to it's target - the mage. Above Gawain's eye, a small cut in his eyebrow spouted a constant stream of blood running down, past his eye, down to his chin, where it dripped slowly. The wound had not been a result of the mage's actions, however. [i]“No, no,”[/i] Gawain mumbled to himself as he stumbled to his feet, evidently still slightly shaken by the events that had transpired within these four walls. [i]“The mages, they are gentle. They know not what a strong man's arm can do. They play tricks, tricks of the mind and the brain. But that hurts all the same..”[/i]

The wound on his eyebrow had been the unfortunate result of a man, woman, errr, something.. hitting him rather hard while he came around the corner. It could've been the mage for all Gawain knew, but that seemed unlikely, given the man's pitiful physique. An accomplice, perhaps, who knew. [i]“Hrrrghr!”[/i] Gawain coughed, moving his bound two hands up to wipe some of the blood away. It was an awful, awkward movement that hurt his wrists. The bindings were much too tight, and rather than constrict his movements, they simply made them more painful. A true amateurs job, Gawain found himself thinking. But then again, the constraints had done their job of keeping him, well, constrained. 

His boots stepped on the dust and sand covered sandstone. He moved with heavy tread, almost falling over with every step. If the malnutrition, lack of hydration and the pain from being locked up wasn't enough, the smoke was also quite a pain to deal with. It wasn't thick - [i]yet.[/i] [i]“How the fuck does sandstone burn anyway?”[/i] Gawain questioned, but found himself shaking his head at the question as he arrived at the iron grates that separated him from his freedom. 

The man fell to his knees and pressed his face against the cold iron grate, pushing his bound arms through the gaps between the bars. [i]“And of course this mage got knocked out by one of those piss-poor Elven sods.”[/i] he mumbled with a thick Aretian accent, his words being more like those of an angry peasant than the nobleman he was supposed to be. Fitting, since if he didn't do anything, he'd get a peasants grave.

[i]Fuck.[/i]

He couldn't reach the mage. Well, this was it then. A soft thump followed as Gawain let himself fall back as he stared at the grates in disarray. Gawain was dead. Not too long now and the entire structure would crumble on top of him, or worse, the elves would come back and take him, defile him and string his corpse from a tree. Wait, not a tree. There weren't trees in the desert. They'd string him from.. from a rock. Yes, a rock. 

A sudden feeling of fear overtook Gawain, made him catch a sweat and made him start breathing heavily. The elves shouldn't take him. There'd be no redeeming his honor after that. Get killed by a filthy elf, and God would never let you join him in his heavenly paradise. As quick as he'd fallen to the ground before, he shot forwards again and pressed against the grates again, reaching for the mage again. [i]“C'mon, just a bit more!”[/i] he yelled, pushing his face harder and harder into the grates to get that little extra bit of reach he needed. T-there we go! The mages body was pulled towards the grates jerkily, sliding a bit closer with every tug and pull Gawain made, until he was close enough.

With his hands still bound, he fumbled to get the keys. He dropped them not once, but twice, but finally he caught a grip and managed to hold the keys for longer than a few seconds. He quickly unlocked the prison door, and swung the door open with remarkable violence. The scared, fearful expression on his face earlier had made way for a violent and angry expression - now that the bars of the cell didn't make him feel like all was lost, his true personality shone. 

It shouldn't come as a surprise then, then, that Gawain immediately started kicking the mage in his side. [i]“Fuck! You! You! Fucking! [b]Blasphemer![/b]”[/i] Every word came with a kick, but there was no response from the man, since he was already knocked out by that elf. Wait, the elf! ... yes, the elf.. if there were elves here, and there was fire.. then..? [i]“Monarch curse me!”[/i] Gawain cried out, as he turned round and quickly ran up the stairs, slipping and falling on his elbow once as a result of the dust on the steps and his own haste. He scraped it - badly - but now wasn't the time to cry about little pains when he was about to be set upon by bloody elves!