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Post by PhantomBrogade on Oct 27, 2024 13:20:20 GMT
An easy escort job.
Nevermind that anyone travelling across the Saltlands' idea of easy was absurd in the first place, but all things considered this was probably going to have been a safe job helping escort a pair of researchers across the edge of the salt covered region to take soil samples. Brianne should have trusted her gut instinct - should have refused the job and instead taken the caravan south. Something had screamed at her to not head towards her former home. She could still remember the day it had begun; the din of war eclipsed by the screams. She still remembered seeing one warrior - their armour bloodied and mudded to the point of being practically unidentifiable - screaming in terror as their body slowly crystallized into salt, before collapsing into the transforming land.
She had ran that day. All of her false bravery had crumbled along with her home. And then she just had to come back.
Still, she never would have expected... this.
Brianne groaned as she tested the shackles holding her in place. Demons. Demons in the middle of the continent. How in the Goddess did they get here.
Her cell was small and bare - no bed, no seat - just her shackled in a kneeling position in the middle of the room. Out through the bars, she could see another cell on the opposite side. Someone else was shackled there - but from the scream locked into place on their face, they were long dead.
Goddess she hoped she'd have a better death than that.
A minute dragged on as she considered her options. Really though there was one, as bad as it was.
"Hello! Anyone?!"
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 31, 2024 19:43:06 GMT
"Do try to keep it down; some of us are trying to focus..." came to a sharp voice from further down, in the cell next to the long-dead victim. A figure in a cloak was bent over something on the hard floor. The voice and hint of a beard would suggest that it was a man, and his build was skinny and sickly, with skin marred by several scars. He was busy scribbling notes on a piece of parchment using what looked like a chunk of coal that had stained his black fingers. "Yes-No-Yes--Yes," the stranger muttered as his fingers twisted slightly; he did not appear shackled, most likely because the demons did not regard him as much of a threat to how sickly he looked.
"No... that won't do," he continued, scratching over his notes. "So little time, not enough time... the fools, thinking they can lock me up, hah." He stopped, slowly looking up, and Brianne saw a pair of slightly glowing yellow eyes inside the cloak. He looked as if he had just seen her for the first time. "Apologize, I did not mean to snap," he said, aiming his words at the fellow prisoner. "But- yes, I am here... no need to shout, Miss."
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Post by Bixir on Nov 1, 2024 7:11:17 GMT
In the cell next to Brianne's was another prisoner, much less like either of the other two who were still alive here. They could not recall how long they had been here... or how they were here at all. There were too many questions to ask, and they were seldom one to put talk before action. Compared to the other two, they were an outsider, clad from head to toe in a metal armor that was nothing like anything in all the Realm, or much of Amalgamos for that matter. Similar to Brianne, they were shackled. Thoroughly, in fact. Their torso was ensnared in a vice that looked like an antiquated torture device, and by all accounts, it probably was. It did not seem to bother them, only keeping them firmly in place against the wall, from their body to their legs and ankles. Their right arm, which appeared to be more weapon than arm, was lodged within a similar outcropping in the wall that kept it from moving. This arrangement did not, however, stop them from rapping their other, armored hand in two knocks against the wall between their cell and Brianne's. Whoever the girl was, she was not alone. None of them were. In imprisonment, and in not knowing what was going on here. What had their mission been?... it was difficult to think. They felt something itching in the back of their mind, but it was no use to figure out what it was. Something in this place was probably responsible.. It was not the first time that they had been in a situation like this. It would not be the last.
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