Not for the first time in his life, Vaerun was dragged out into the street by a heavy and crudely wrought set of manacles that bound his wrists together. This time though, he had the added displeasure of an additional chain linking the manacles to a thick collar that had been secured around his neck that was just a few hand lenghts short, forcing him to either keep his head down or hold his arms up. Evidently the guardsmen believed he was either a major threat, or they just enjoyed the sight of him struggling underneath the weight of so much metal. 

"You know gentlemen, the rumors about my massive size and great strength really only apply to one part-" 

A gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his face, practically knocking Vaerun to the ground. He coughed and spat blood from his mouth, turning a cold, bloody smile on the man who had hit him.

"Oh this is going to be such a fun adventure, isn't it friend?," Vaerun said, standing back up. "Was it your sister or your wife who told you those stories?"

The man raised his fist again, but a harsh bark from the sergeant stayed his hand. "Don't be an idiot, he's just baiting you into killing him so he won't be tortured to death like the scum he is," the sergeant chided, then turned to beckon over another guardsman, "Thomas, you're on prisoner watch. Damon, go take point and cool off."

As the guards went to their new assignments, Vaerun chuckled, directing his attention at the sergeant. "Damn, and I had him right where I wanted him too. Guess I'll have to start all over again with this guy huh?"

Vaerun turned his head as much as he could to look at the guard beside him. The man was young, perhaps only two decades old, but was clearly used to following orders to the letter. He didnt even give Vaerun a single look as they continued to trudge on through the streets of Providence. As they passed from the slums of the city into the more middle class areas, the change was nothing short of dramatic. Poorly constructed and worse-maintained single story shacks were replaced by tall but narrow houses, many with chimneys that were already belching smoke as lunchtime rolled by. Vaeruns stomach growled, an odd sensation when mixed with the constant flares of pain from his jaw. He made a mental note to avoid being struck by metal clad fists in the future.

"Have you heard the good word about our lord and savior, the great flying invisible sea serpent?"