*BOOM* Another fist landed across the side of his face and the world went black again, then purple... little stars and dancing lights in his vision. Every new blow raining upon his face added a new starburst of color. Vhaern managed to keep his composure through it all and on some level it was amusing, these tiny men that had to stand over him just to strike him. "Even if it did... show you, power it for you... you wouldn't be able to use it. It's custom built to fit me..." *POW* Another strike to the face, breaking his nose this time. The beating continued until someone spoke up, breath foul enough to taint the wind at a distance and Vhaern associated this smell with someone that must be in charge here.<br/><br/>For as long as they'd been captive, the beatings had come at random times, more questions, more beatings. Drug in and out of the cabin by his feet by a team of pirates grunting with his weight. He worried more about Sirka than himself, he could take the abuse but he didn't know if he could deal with them giving her the same treatment. He'd try to give her a reassuring smile, at least in her direction through his swollen face every time they hauled him out for another round of questions. *Don't worry, we'll get through this...* He'd try to convey with it, as parched and beaten as he was.<br/><br/>Vhaern had been drifting in and out of consciousness for as long as they'd all been together in the cabin, half speaking, incomplete words that trailed out of him as pieces of thoughts drifting through his mind. He sounded as though he'd been through just a rough a time as Tyora had though. The bits of clothing that still clung to him were stuck there, dried blood through the beatings he'd taken after refusing to help the Pirates.  They'd demanded a supply of weapons and armor, he'd refused. They demanded he show them how to use what they'd stolen from him, he'd refused again.<br/><br/>Somewhere on the ship was the half-suit of armor, the pistols, and the rifle he and Sirka had so painstakingly crafted. Likely it was with the rest of the hoarded goods, he could recall a woman in the cabin saying something about having her belongings removed from her as well. Vhaern could only imagine something like his creations being used to loot a pillage innocent coastal cities, that seemed to pain him more than anything they could do to him. For now though, his equipment was useless to them, he wasn't going to show them how to use it and he certainly wasn't going to power to lodestones so they could play with it.<br/><br/>A few moments before the puff of smoke appeared in the room, they'd hauled Vhaern back into the cabin and dumped him on the floor again, chaining him back up with his "companions". For now, he'd lay there, face down on the floor of the cabin and bound. His hands were up behind his back, locked up in cuffs tightly chained to shackles around his ankles. Tyora's voice roused him a little, Vhaern groaned and tried to move up with his shoulder and turn over. It wasn't working as well as he would have a liked and he only managed to scoot himself tighter into the corner where he'd been dropped.<br/><br/>"What's that now? What's going on?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>