All of those enslaved people were dressed roughly the same, cloaks covering most of their bodies, each toiled away without stopping, hours on end, the signal for respite being one of them collapsing to the ground, physically incapable of standing any longer, two others went over to help him.
Or so Milo and Griar first assumed, instead, they tore his cloak off, revealing a shirt covered in holes, held close to the body of its wearer with ropes of web, the holes allowed for bloated mounds to enjoy the outside air, malignant protuberances that were far from solid, small creatures crawling inside, doing their utmost to break through the elastic skin.
