Warcraft fiction

“Hello, Athmeno.” The priest gazed at him with a searching look, calm but penetrating in its intensity. Then it moved across his massive, bare shoulders and his face split in a grin. “They’re not clothing prisoners any more?”

Athmeno cast his eyes down to the linen breeches he wore against modesty, then over to the folded clothing which lay on the bed-slab near the wall, acting as a pillow. “It itches. I figure if I’ve not time enough left, then I shan’t spend it itching, Father.”