Date: 2015-06-03 10:11 pm (UTC)
Knife roused slowly into wakefulness, by the jostling of other nearby bodies. Having been lain on their right hand side, the elf could neither make out the sounds or the request made by their current companions. Pressed in against a wall by a much larger body, and unable to move, Knife instead became very quickly aware of the press of cold iron at their wrists and ankles. A dull sensation that this had not been the first time they had been in this situation washed over them with some dull long forgotten familiarity. A familiarly, which brought the smallest amount of fear. Rankling the chains in frustration, a disgruntled grumble slipping through their lips along with a Nevarran curse.

Even with their hands in front of them, and the chains clear for them to see they could not percieve a single weakness in the chains, or even if these chains were even made of iron! A voice which sounded decidedly like the Old Gelter (the Smith), chagrined them for not paying more attention to his lessons about chain smithing.

Unable to do much else, they instead elbowed the large body behind them, in some attempt to make some space. Because Maker dammit, if they were stuck like this then they were at least going to make themselves comfortable.
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Dragon Age 3.5

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