He missed home, terribly. The best thing he could do to sleep at night was assume that his sacrifice bought precious time for others, but really? Who knew. No one else from the village was here, that was a good sign. There was a dwarf, an ornery half orc, the two... Gnome looking things, emaciated compared to what he would call a real gnome, but really they were just in the same sorry lot he was. “I am a warrior too. Archer, this makes me wish for the callouses I got just nocking arrows. Ah, my only regret is I never got one of these fucks in the neck and let ‘em choke on their blood. Oh well, maybe if I am lucky I will be able to do that as a vengeful spirit.” his tone was bitter, if amused – he was clearly not resigned to death, but he didn’t want to dream about escaping. “We can be patient but our captor are still captors, we will still have to really look if we want a chance to escape...” or make a clumsy play of hand, and do something drastic.<br/><br/>Or, something drastic was shoved right into their hands. The fucking bitch of a priestess was enjoying her work, and as they bullied the frog, he winced. Each kick was unpleasant, and simply put, cruel. It was foul, and he had no stomach for it.. But he was smart enough to bite that anger in, hold his tongue back. Silent through the exchange, Mikhails eyes darted between the two proffered sacrifices, and he cringed somewhat, shuddering. Eldeth was by all accounts a good woman even if he didn’t know her much, and Ront... Not the best person, but sure as hell did not deserve death. If the Drow wanted to make this a game he’d have none of it, and at that moment even his calmer temper flared. “Whatever hell waits for you drow I sure as fuck hope there’s a special spot for you.” He was prepared for the consequence, and while it wouldn’t count as a good way to make himself an offering, he at least hoped she’d entertain it. Maybe something could happen, but... Even that seemed dim.