Iliyal took long steps as he marched in front of the line of men, his eyes flicking over them as they stood in silence. There was a line of police officers them, and each of the prisoners looked on with hard eyes as they met his gaze. No one backed away, no one said so much as a whisper. A few were scarred, every man was either huge like a bear or lean like a jaguar. A few had bruises on their knuckles, no one seemed to mind the fact they were in dirty clothes either, nor did they react to the bite of the night's cold winds.
He was impressed. Honestly, they weren't half-bad. He could make use of people like this.
