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Jadion stirred, as foul-tasting gorge threatened to rise in his throat. He felt the chains restraining him.
"What have you done? What poison did you use? Why are you holding us prisoner? What have we done to you, and how did you get here, or get us here, and where are we?" The gorge rose again, and no longer able to restrain it, he turned his head and spilled it, foul, into the edge of his hair, then fell back, thoroughly disgusted with his abysmal performance. Some warrior he was! but they had used foul, dishonorable means!