"Me?" he answered, sheepishly. If he thought things were bad before things were about to get far worse. He felt it in his gut, in his bones causing his soul to give a shudder. To be a slave was one thing, to be a slave being investigated by the Queen was another. He could swear by his life he had no idea where the stone came from. Could give her a very, very detailed description of the drow that gave him the ring.<br/><br/>He tried to conjure up an image of him in his head. He was tall for a drow and heavily built, obviously worked as a builder or a miner, something that required heavy lifting as his arms were as thick as tree trunks. His hair was probably once pure white, but was dull and more grey than anything now. His eyes burned like hot coals, they scared him every time he was asked to look at him. He was covered head to toe in scars too, some small like he had been nicked or scratched and others, mostly on his back, were probably from a whip. Part of one of his ears were missing as well; the pointed tip was gone.<br/><br/>He would keep that image, in his mind in case he was asked. He looked out at the passing parade. The crowd was cheering and for a moment he wished it was for him. But with his legs aching under him as he sat on them, he knew it wasn't. In the distance he thought he could the Queen's palace, her home and he was being taken right to it.