((OOC:The following post contains some rather unpleasant imagery so be warned before reading.
A grey and pale morning the looming walls of the prison are only just visible through the thick fog inside the usual screams and cries of the inmates can be heard through the walls echoing out from the halls of the god forsaken place. In the yard just outside the entrance to The Deadbook Cells a team of four Dustmen are administering funeral rites to a group of prisoners who have served their sentences, they work in hushed silence under the constant scowling gaze of the Mercykiller guards who watch for any sign of a potential risk to security. One of the Dustmen a pale slender woman in dark robes approaches one of the Mercykiller guards a man in whirring clockwork armour who stands in the full plate a whole foot in height taller than her. She speaks;
"You mentioned one of the prisoners in the debtor's wing had passed away, we should see to him as well."
If the man makes any verbal response it is lost behind his helm but he gestures her with a hand towards the debtor's wing. He follows after her keeping a close eye on her at all times. Once they make it inside the foreboding structure they arrive in a narrow corridor the ceiling low. The lack of light seems to bother neither of them as they arrive at the first cell door the woman seems to consult a list which she carries and nods. The armoured Mercykiller unlocks the door and they step into a fetid cell. There's no light source and and as the door opens there is the clanking of chains and a hurried scurrying movement as something that could once have been considered human tries to hide from the light. The woman in Dustman's robes utters a cantrip and a white light illuminates the scene before them. The sight before them would make even the strongest stomachs turn the cold stone floor is covered in dirty straw like a stable. The smell of human waste would assail the senses the straw shifts in clumps as piles of crawling maggots slither and squirm through the filth. Most prominent to the tableau is the man chained to the floor though he is very much alive not dead as they discussed. The prison uniform he once wore torn to rags and clinging to him his body which is bulky and well muscled. No doubt he was impressive and imposing when he was in the full blush of health mere days ago. Now his skin is covered in a criss-cross of scars most piteously of all despite his muscled frame he seems to be hunched wretchedly on the floor loud audible sobs coming from him as he cowers away from the light and the two newcomers who enter his cell. The woman pulls back her hood and slowly crouches down opposite him pulling back her hood her manner is calm and composed she seems entirely unconcerned by the smell and the prisoners state though her manner is not unkind.
"Mister Auldrin, of Auldrin's smithy in the low ward?"
The man looks at her his broken sobs cease he recognizes the name it was his long ago, almost a life time ago before he was taken to this place by The Fated and their Mercykiller cohorts. She smiles as she dsicovers she has the right man.
"My name is Annia Kendt Mister Auldrin and I can get you out of this place...."
"Pl-please anything."
The man begins to sob anew reaching out to the woman in the dark robes she takes a step back she seems surprised as to the reaction but reaches into her bag for in her robe and produces a quill and parchment
"Of course sign here please."
She looks up at the Mercykiller who accompanies her.
"According to my list I have another eighteen signatures to collect. We should get a move on I doubt they will all be this straightforward."
Early one morning in the cage
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
His face is hidden by his armour and the gears and wheels make it impossible to read his body language.
Yet he is clearly disgusted- both by the fact he has to accept an outsider's help but even more by the way the Takers use the Mercykiller's calling for their own greedy ends.
Come. This way.
He closes the door again, the man behind whimpering, his hopes for an immediate release from the prison shattered.
Of course this is not possible. There are laws that must be obeyed, procedures that must be followed.
But there are no laws that forbid someone else to pay the debts.
Opening the next cell he lets the dustman enter, waiting in the doorframe, a massive, threatening shadow behind the pale Dustman girl.
Yet he is clearly disgusted- both by the fact he has to accept an outsider's help but even more by the way the Takers use the Mercykiller's calling for their own greedy ends.
Come. This way.
He closes the door again, the man behind whimpering, his hopes for an immediate release from the prison shattered.
Of course this is not possible. There are laws that must be obeyed, procedures that must be followed.
But there are no laws that forbid someone else to pay the debts.
Opening the next cell he lets the dustman enter, waiting in the doorframe, a massive, threatening shadow behind the pale Dustman girl.