[center][h1]ℜ𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱[/h1][/center]
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What tensions had risen within the cramped confines of the prison dissipated just as quickly. With a heavy sigh, Renault seemed to visibly deflate, slumping against the wall and letting gravity take him down again. Even as he spoke, the words felt hollow coming out. How could one be expected to make the most of [i]this[/i] - confinement. As it seemed, if the four of them weren't sentenced to death, it was just-as-likely they'd be left here to starve. Easy for a man to go mad within these walls that whisper such cruelties. 

Though Renault had spent the last seven years trying to escape his past, coincidence -- or fate-- found him here with nothing else to draw upon. The Holy Order of Andallia taught him the value of poverty and humility. Noble sons that they were, those who joined were poor fellows united by faith and restrained by discipline. To live a comfortless life was devotion, and to deny yourself was to achieve closeness with Erithar. 

So here he was: Andallia's most devout outcast.

Swallowing once, he mustered the breath and courage needed to speak again. "I've read about your people before - the Goliaths. Though more...conjecture than anything else, I suppose. What cruel fate brought you here?"