The man in the cage might have been the same one that Marric spared and sent off, but no. The man was different. Young man, barely out of his teens, an adult but not by many years. He had a scar across his cheek, and a dirty brown tunic in the cell. Looking up, he narrowed his eyes. Watching Marric, and silently standing up. Moving to the edge of the cage bars.<br/><br/>"I know I am damned. I know I will be killed soon. The people are not exactly forgiving on bandits, and I cannot claim I was a raw recruit that ran off without killing anyone." He hesitated. Shivered. "I was a soldier, but our unit was left to be slaughtered. I ran away, and found a few other mercenaries. No work though, and eventually we were getting hungry. Some bandits pushed us and well..." He drew a deep breath. "...Why am I even telling you this?" He grimaced, glaring at Marric.<br/><br/>"Long story short, I've killed, I got accepted as a bandit, but I didn't like the things I've been seeing lately. Threatening and extorting money? Fine. Stealing some clothes and beer? Also fine. Capturing women, killing men, burning down whole carriages, and some cultist whispers? That's when I know its time to get out of there."<br/><br/>He glared at Marric quietly a moment then closing his eyes. "I may be a total bastard to rob and steal, but I didn't want to become someone that revels in killing. Still, its not possible for me to wash away what I have done." Snorting, he glared at Marric. "Ask what you want, I'm going to be a dead man soon anyway, and... I don't know why, but it seems that you deserve some answers." He narrowed his eyes, seeming suspicious of something.<br/><br/>Lissu, meanwhile, stood a bit back, chanting something in a low tone of voice, keeping a hand gestured at the bandit that was spilling his tale.