In the Warden's Office

Blackstone Prison is one of the many dirty little secrets of
the Empire. It is the deepest, darkest, dankest, hellhole imaginable and where the Empire houses a collection of hardened criminals, 'political' prisoners, and those unlucky few who simply needed to disappear. Blackstone Prison was one of those places that everyone has heard about but was unwilling to talk about in polite company. Poor living conditions, horrible nutrition, forced labor, and a brutal sadistic humanoid guard force ensured that no one ever escaped from Blackstone.

You are a prisoner at Blackstone. It may have been days, weeks, months, or even years since you were incarcerated, but the indominatable force of Blackstone is beginning to crush any hope you have that you will ever leave Blackstone alive.

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In the Warden's Office

Post by chameleon » Mon October 24 05 ; 1 48 pm

[font=Garamond]Wylan stumbles through the door, which is immediately closed behind him. It doesn't take too much time for Wylan to realize he is in a spacious office. However, he is immediately surprised by who he sees standing behind the massive desk that would otherwise dominate the room.

Eighteen soldiers of the Emperor's own Praetorian Guard in full battle arms stand impassively behind the desk. You almost miss the shirtless, skeletal figure of a man slumped on one of the stools until one of the Praetorian Guard motion for Wylan to take a seat next to him. The man stirs himself to take a glance at you.

One of his eyes is swollen shut, but the sparkling emerald one that is open shows none of the fear and despair so often associated with this place. Wylan can see the defiance in his eyes contradicts the defeated pose of the prisoner. Slowly, the prisoner lowers his head back down and stares at his feet.

Wylan can see that this one put up a fight before he was drug in here. In addition to his eye, the man had a bloody lip and a nose that had probably been broken multiple times. His head is shaved and his ears look as if some unknown creature had gnawed part of them off. Wylan could imagine the ugly bruises that must exist under his black skin.

The room remains deadly silent as they wait for ???
[/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]When the DM laughs, it is already too late![/font] :D

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Post by Genghis » Mon October 24 05 ; 3 48 pm

Wylan quirks the eyebrow over his empty socket, and sits where indicated, next to the near skeleton. Unsure of whther he's allowed to speak or not, Wylan decides to take the risk. They wouldn't have brought him so far, only to kill him now. "What the 'ell is this about?" he asks his companion is the deepest of baritones.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by chameleon » Tue November 01 05 ; 1 35 pm

[font=Garamond]Wylan's deep baritone seems to echo through the silence of the room. The guards continue to stare ahead appearing not to notice the outburst. The man next to him simply shrugs without looking up at Wylan. When the man shrugs, Wylan sees the man's permanent magical tatoo with his prisoner number flash for just a second. His prisoner number is 72.[/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]When the DM laughs, it is already too late![/font] :D

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Post by Genghis » Tue November 01 05 ; 6 37 pm

Wylan ponders what he just saw...72...Wouldn't that mean he was an old prisoner? Still, if the chap wasn't up for conversation, far be it for him to break the silence further. He lets out a slow, long sigh and does what he has come to do most here in this pit: wait.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by chameleon » Wed November 02 05 ; 8 33 pm

[font=Garamond]Wylan didn't have to wait long. The door swung open and a young woman was pushed inside rather roughly.

Isa stumbles to a stop three steps inside of the door. Eighteen soldiers of the Emperor's Praetorian guard stand at attention behind a massive desk. One of the guards motion for Isa to have a seat next to two fellow prisoners. The first is a one-eyed bear of a man and the second is a skeletal black man.

Mere seconds later, two guards drag another prisoner into the room and roughly sit him in a chair. Although he obviously can not move, he can see and hear everything going on in the room. Slowly but surely, Thek's muscle control begins to return.
[/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]When the DM laughs, it is already too late![/font] :D

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Post by Genghis » Thu November 03 05 ; 11 16 am

At the entrance of the first, Wylan's one good eye widens in surprise. This one didn't have the look of a convict, he thinks silently, and there's enough lively fear behind those eyes to suggest that the guards haven't beenat her... From what little Wylan had seen of females in this complex, usually their eyes either took on a vacant, distanced look or a hostile fire. This one still seemed somehow, well, alive...

When the second is brought in forcefully, a glimmer of understanding begins to surface, "We're to be used in some form of entertainment," he rumbles under his breath in some sort of attempted whisper, "Gladiators perhaps...maybe an old game of the dog skull..."
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by StormElfstone » Fri November 04 05 ; 2 37 pm

Isadora squints as she is pushed through the door and stumbles into the room. She looks up slowly, Out of the frying pan and into the fire she thinks to herself looking up at the impenetrable wall of guards before her. She does not look them in the eyes this time...
She glances around the room and catching sight of the two fellow prisoners before her, she feels comforted momentarily. She does not smile at them but a light dances in her eyes, which she hopes sends them a flicker of comfort. We are not alone if we are in each others' company. She thinks, imaging they can hear her thoughts.

The large one-eyed man, she imagines, would bring fear to the heart of most, but Isi is not easily intimidated. He's probably soft on the inside she thinks, hiding a smile. He's not a guard. So he could be on my side.

She finds the skeletal black man harder to read. Quiet type? she wonders to herself.

She nods subtley as she is indicated to sit. She takes her seat beside the larger man and with an expressionless face and keeping her head down slightly she takes careful glances around the room. She wonders what kind of people the guards are, what kind of lives they live and what has brought them to do the jobs they do.
She wonders about the other two prisoners sitting beside her, what they did to end up here. In a sense she feels she should trust them, although she cannot explain why. Her rationality tells her they are criminals that's why they're here and reminds her not to rush into friendships.

Her train of thought is disrupted as another new-comer is shoved into the room after her. Aha. A new person to begin analysing... she thinks. It helps to keep her mind off things and keeps the fear at bay, atleast for the timebeing.
[font=Times New Roman]Run for the hills before they burn,
Listen to the sound of the world and watch it turn,[/font]


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Post by Genghis » Fri November 04 05 ; 6 34 pm

Wylan shifts over to make space for the lady, with a mumbled "S'cuse me," which comes out as a rumble.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Post by Genghis » Wed November 09 05 ; 3 25 am

Used to long moments of waiting in his cell, Wylan folds his massive arms over his chest and allows his mind to wander back over the months. Whatever may come today, it is a welcome reprieve from breathing in rock dust, scraping his head on low tunnels, and the sort of work that works his muscles past exhaustion, without the diet or rest needed to build up his strength.

His mind drifts back to earlier, perhaps he could even say "happier" times, when he played the Dog-skull. He had foolishly been lured into "Jugging" as a spectator of seventeen years like many youths before him. Wylan lets out a sigh without realizing it as he sees his parents the one last time before abandoning them and the fields to win the glory of the Ruby Skull. Of course, he never got that far, not even close.

He had potential. His pure brawn was tempered with an intellegent cunning most "Chain-slingers" never evidenced. While most he went against would use their size and reach to immobilize the "Juggers" or "Qwiks," Wylan would look to disarm or trip his enemy. The crowd rarely got into such blood-less techniques but the point of the game was to gain the opponent's skull and bring it back, not to slay the other team. Plus, there were plenty of times when he'd had to smash the heavy spiked chain into the vitals...and all for what? A pittance of money? THe possibility of fame? Those he sampled but never fully tasted, and they never quite silenced the voice of true reason deeper inside, the voice the begged the obvious question: Why the hell was he wasting his talents on such a sadistic game? The real tragedy wasn't that he had decided not to "throw" that final match. What was truly repulsive is that he continued to play after the first body was dragged off.... that he had killed so many without a single consequence, and barely a look back...Just for a bloody game! And he was loved for it.

Unsure of why he had been summoned to sit before this Preatorian guard, Wylan only knew one thing: there was nothing they could do to him that would be worse than the eternal fires of the hells that awaited him. And so he would survive a little longer if he could, to avoid that final fate as a Chain-slinger, Entertainer, Murderer...
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by chameleon » Mon November 14 05 ; 9 51 am

[font=Garamond]The waiting seemed interminable until everyone in the room hears the hesitant opening of the door. A young man steps through the door. He stands a little taller than average (5' 9") and is rather gangly. The young man appears more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

One of the Praetorian Guards points to a chair indicating that the young man should sit there. Mere moments after Tegan takes a seat, the door swings open a massive man confidently strides into the room. He must stand at least 6' 8" tall and weigh 300 pounds, all of it solid muscle. You immediately recognize him as Warden Trollsbane.

The man walks to the desk and picks up the folders without looking at them. He looks each one of you over; the contempt and disgust plain on his face. [/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]"Tegan Bayle, a convicted murderer and excommunicated member of the Order of Light. Isadora Echo, the head of the Night Hunters criminal organization and a convicted racketeer and thief. Also, someone suspected of ordering the death of innocent merchants. Wylan Lear, the convicted murderer of a nobleman. Last, but not least, Kith! Weren’t you convicted of conspiring to overturn the Imperial Government, the murder of twelve members of the Praetorian Guard, and the burning of the Imperial City of Perth?”[/font]

[font=Garamond]Warden Trollsbane waits a moment to see if he gets any reaction from the prisoner called Kith. Getting none, he continues on.[/font] [font=Copperplate gothic light]“It appears the Empire has some use for you yet. Seems they have a mission that they are unwilling to risk their soldiers on. So ... they have asked for someone expendable. Someone like you."[/font]

[font=Garamond]An evil smile crosses the warden's face. [/font] [font=Copperplate gothic light]"Do you want the chance to walk under the sun again? The chance to be free if only for a few days?" [/font]

[font=Garamond]Warden Trollsbane sits the files back down on the desk. [/font] [font=Copperplate gothic light]"Oh yes, I almost forgot. If you somehow manage to survive this mission, the Emperor will consider giving you a pardon ... although I can guarantee you'll never walk the streets of the Empire again. Well … what do you say?"[/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]When the DM laughs, it is already too late![/font] :D

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Post by Genghis » Mon November 14 05 ; 1 00 pm

Wylan listens impassively enough. This is not quite what he expected, but he had no doubts that this was a mission that they were all expected to die in. Judging from the high profile of the crimes committed, he doubted the empire would allow any of them to survive...

Wylan isn't sure which member of their group was left out in the roll-call...The man who was here before him, or the one to enter just now? He voices his thoughts out loud, "You speak of four, but my eyes count five," he rumbles, "but I would hear more of a mission that requires the talents of such depraved and damned souls as ourselves."
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by chameleon » Mon November 14 05 ; 1 30 pm

[font=Garamond]Warden Trollsbane smiles benevolently at Wylan as one would smile at a child.[/font] [font=copperplate gothic light]“Unfortunately I know no more than the sorry lot of you do. The Praetorian Guard ‘requested’ that specific prisoners be made available to them. If said prisoners were not interested in such a proposal, they were to be eliminated with all due haste.

While I would like to know why the Empire has use for you, the Empire has not deemed that necessary. And since I do rather enjoy this job … I’m not inclined to press the issue. It’s a simple matter … either you accept or I execute you immediately. It’s a pity though … I’m sure your slow lingering painful death would bring such pleasure to some members of my guard staff.”[/font]


[font=Book Antiqua]OODM: You are right. There are five. I should have included Ro’thek as he was brought in unconscious right after Isadora. However, since we’ve not heard from him in some time … we are moving on and will include him later if he should return. Kith is the man who was there before you and Tegan was the last one brought in.[/font]
[font=copperplate gothic light]When the DM laughs, it is already too late![/font] :D

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by StormElfstone » Mon November 14 05 ; 1 42 pm

Isi had almost managed to disappear into a world of her own thoughts when suddenly the door burst open revealing Warden Trollsbane. Isi's heart sank as she came back to reality.
The warden began to read from the book...[quote="chameleon";p="57249"] [font=copperplate gothic light]"Isadora Echo, the head of the Night Hunters criminal organization and a convicted racketeer and thief..." [/font][/quote]

Isadora feels a mixture of emotions run through her as she is labelled a criminal. A twinge of guilt, maybe shame, but anger sneaks in there too, injustice.
Oh, I'm the 'head' of the Night Hunters now am I? First I heard of it.Isi thinks to herself. I must have been promoted.

Isadora has learned to keep her mouth shut in her short time at Blackstone. She does not try to argue with the guards anymore. She longed to cry out 'I'm innocent!', but she knew better. She still hadn't gotten used to the idea that she would suffer for the rest of her days, but with her strong character she had found ways to keep going. Isi is a survivor.


[quote="chameleon";p="57249"]
[font=Copperplate gothic light]"Do you want the chance to walk under the sun again? The chance to be free if only for a few days?" [/font]
[/quote]

Isadora couldn't believe her ears, with an incredulous expression on her face, she looked up a little. He must be having us on, he's winding us up! was Isi's first thought. This must be some kind of cruel trick, a sick joke just to get our hopes up.

[quote="chameleon";p="57249"]
[font=Copperplate gothic light]Oh yes, I almost forgot. If you somehow manage to survive this mission, the Emperor will consider giving you a pardon ... although I can guarantee you'll never walk the streets of the Empire again. Well … what do you say?"[/font]
[/quote]

Chancing a quick glance at his eyes Isadora begins to become convinced that he is actually telling the truth. Hope flickers in her bright green eyes.

The warden's words echo in her mind: "... although I can guarantee you'll never walk the streets of the Empire again.".... fine by me. There's nothing for me to go back to.
Isadora is careful not to let on that that sentence, intended to dishearten, was actually pleasing to her ears. She had no desire whatsoever to walk the streets of the empire again. A new life! Isi almost smiled, but then remembered the catch. How likely am I to survive? she wondered.

She realised it was probably a small possibilty, but for a chance or freedom... what have I got to lose?

After hearing the Warden's response to Wylan, Isadora clears her throat quietly, in order to get his attention and in a soft voice says, 'I will accept the task, sir'.
[font=Times New Roman]Run for the hills before they burn,
Listen to the sound of the world and watch it turn,[/font]


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Post by Genghis » Mon November 14 05 ; 2 52 pm

Wylan nods his head as the gaoler responds.He liked not the sound of this, but there was no choice, of course. To live with convicted criminals was one thing. To be forced to cooperate with them would be even more unpleasant...a murdering blasphemer, a woman capable of murder (but just spineless enough to do it through manipulation), and an arsonist foolish and strong enough to slay a dozen soldiers...This did not bode well. To work with such would be straining, to "follow" any of them intolerable...

"I will do it, Trollsbane, but I will lead. I will not follow a criminal; doing so last time is what landed me here. I would rather own the responsibility of such people and our overall success or failure than submit to the decisions of those whose wisdom I cannot judge farther than their criminal record..."
Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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Re: In the Warden's Office

Post by Suyoi_Igarashi » Tue November 15 05 ; 3 35 am

To say Tegan almost fell off his chair was to give the scrod too much credit. Accepting such an obvious set up would be risky. This could only further insult him by accusing him of trying to escape. Listening to both the woman and man, he was unsure of dealing with such types. Of course, he wasn't one of those criminals. The power or desire to touch some of his own inner powers again was almost overwhelming his sense of reason. Could it actually happen?

"I will..." Tegan began, before echoing himself in a lower, less broken tone, "I will do this to be free of this all." Inside his mind, he shouted, ~I'm innocent!~ It almost sounded truthful to him this time.

Even though his voice was steadier, his hands trembled, shaking his stool as if he was shivering from severe cold. His uneasy glance at the woman and man made his shivering increase slightly. ~Can I trust anyone if I can hardly trust myself?~
[font=Tahoma]"If these tears which scrawl their lucid signature from cheek to chin...
If my fists tremble for a moment in which the fabric of time teases to pause within their grasp..."
[/font]
[font=Times New Roman]A Collection of Absent Thoughts on a Tuesday Night.[/font]
[font=Times New Roman]~Me circa November 12th, 2006[/font]

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