Dias snorted quietly. Friends? "I'm working with them," he said flatly. "They're not exactly friends. Anyway, I've no reason to trust you. I was hired to rescue the prisoners and that's what I intend to do."
Much to the swordsman's relief, his eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. What he'd taken at first for pitch blackness was merely ALMOST pitch blackness; given long enough to grow accustomed to it, the eyes could pick out shapes and movement, if not much else. He didn't know where what little light there was to see by was coming from...perhaps from the walls themselves, for all he knew. They were certainly sucking up enough light from the outside that casting a bit of it in here wouldn't be entirely surprising.
And there it was again, that niggling feeling that he knew this voice from somewhere. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously, eyes scanning the darkness as he tried to pick out the speaker's silhouette.
no subject
Much to the swordsman's relief, his eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. What he'd taken at first for pitch blackness was merely ALMOST pitch blackness; given long enough to grow accustomed to it, the eyes could pick out shapes and movement, if not much else. He didn't know where what little light there was to see by was coming from...perhaps from the walls themselves, for all he knew. They were certainly sucking up enough light from the outside that casting a bit of it in here wouldn't be entirely surprising.
And there it was again, that niggling feeling that he knew this voice from somewhere. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously, eyes scanning the darkness as he tried to pick out the speaker's silhouette.