Tick... Tock... How long had he been imprisoned down here? Eight hundred seventy eight thousand, nine hundred and four seconds... How much longer until the an interrogator, torturer or plane old trouble maker came to bother him? The passage of time was of no real concern to an undead 'immortal', but did they REALLY have to leave a metranome down here?! Honestly, if anything was going to bother him, it was the mere presence of that simple, well calibrated piece of musical artwork! Keeping perfect track of time by ticking the seconds away! At this rate, he may just break down and ASK someone to come bother him!<br/><br/>Were they afraid of him? He had yet to give any indication that he could break free. And he was fairly certain his appearance was not THAT repulsive... Before death he had been a tall, well built paladin of Lorderon's Royal Guard, and while once bulging muscles were no longer there, he had turned them in for leaner ones, corded like well woven fibers across a sturdy bone structure.  His remaining flesh was a pale, almost white shade of blueish purple, fingers and toes filed down to well sharpened claws, and alchemy kept him from further decay, even removing the tell tale scent from undeath. A rogue's perogattive no doubt...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>