[He admittedly hadn't even tried to reason with them at any point, but maybe that's because the first soldiers he met with were the black-robed ones who only seemed to speak in ominous proclamations about souls. Maybe he's just too familiar with how soldiers work when they're under orders, and how much it can take to make them question their loyalty. He expects that violence is the language they both understand best.

He can't fault someone for hoping for better, though. He finds it compelling, even.]

I made an enemy of them from the start.

[He has to admit that much. It wasn't as if they simply decided upon him as a target at random.]

I'd been intent on escaping... struck one in the face trying to get the leash out of their hands. The moment I drew blood their minds were made up... they'd been given their excuse.

[With bored soldiers, that's all it would take - just a bit of justification. With the worst of their lot, it'd be seen as a bit of fun. He could see it in their eyes when they looked at him, laughing amongst themselves as if placing bets on his fate.]