Toro grabbed the attacker by the wrist and twisted. As they turned, Toro kicked out, and in two simple motions he managed to bring the attacker to their knees and force their gaze on him.

He regretted it instantly.

A familiar face stared up at him. Or, half a familiar face. The other half of the face was so scarred it was unrecognisable. Long slashes tore down the entire right side; pulling up what little was left of the lip into a disfigured, smile-like snarl that showed the yellow-stained teeth and too-red gums.

The good side of the face was pulled into a scowl as ugly as the other. The single eye seethed with a hatred Toro had never seen in it before— bloodshot and sore, it met his own and dared him to act out. It was the eye that Toro recognised.

‘Dellor?’ Toro nearly choked. ‘What—’

‘Great job, Toro!’ Fali called, rounding the corner. ‘You got the bastard!’

Toro broke eye contact and turned to watch as the rest of the guards joined them in the hall.

‘What’s you’re name, you scum?’ Fali snarled.

‘Ask him,’ Dellor looked back to Toro, his tangled hair falling over his bad eye; making him look even more crazed than before.

‘Toro?’ Fali asked. ‘What—’

‘Great Scara, his face!’ Krish exclaimed, interrupting Fali. ‘What happened to his face?’

Dellor turned to the guards; letting his gaze fall on them slowly, one at a time, until it rested on Krish. ‘I take that you haven’t met his wife before, have you?’ he snarled. ‘Nasty creatures, harpies.’

Toro yanked the sickly man forward. ‘She was protecting me from you!’