(This is all first draft off the top of my head and unrevised. For your entertainment only)
Ducane followed Clegg into the forest. “Torture?”

“Answers. Whatever it takes to get them.”

Together they stripped the guardsmyn and suspended him spread-eagle between two trees.

Clegg took a thick piece of rolled up leather from the sack and spread it out, revealing an array of hunter’s tools that included skinning knives and hide scrapers. He picked out a slender boning knife, thrust it through his belt, and gestured at the pile of clothing and weapons they had taken from the guardsmon.

“Build up a fire, Ducane. If I’m going to ruin a blade by heating it, I would rather it be one of his own.”
Ducane gathered twigs and branches, struck a lucifer and lit them, fanning the pile to get the flames going.

Clegg regarded the guardsmon with a dispassionate eye. “What’s your name?”

The guardsmon, a black lycan with olive skin and black hair, stared nervously at the knife in Clegg’s hand. “Dagston. Lawron Dagston…. Please. I was only obeying orders. Philbin made me do it!”

Loyalty word count

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42,327 / 100,000