Post:Re: The Sword of Rutilor - 03/26/2024 - 19:21

Re: The Sword of Rutilor · on 03/26/2024 19:21	2427
"Prisoner, stand and step away from the door." The gruff voice barked simple commands with no variation in intonation. Following the directive, the prisoner slowly lifted his emaciated body from the darkened cell floor and took a large step backwards toward the rear of the cold stone cell. He could feel each movement significantly belabored by the thick lattice of woven linear scars from his treatments at the forge. Once more, he could see the darkened silhouette of a pair of boots outside the cell, and nothing more. It had been two meals since his last treatment at the forge, which meant his justice was near. "Prisoner, what is your name?" “To justice, I have no name,” the prisoner recited. He choked back his clear resentment for the lack of consideration given to his dedication to the Hounds and held his manacled hands in front of him. The bindings were starting to feel loose around his wrists, but his weakness and the open sores that they had caused prevented him from forcing them open. He prepared to receive his meal. And yet, no meal came. “Prisoner, you claimed your name is Chepiso. Is that not your name?” From behind the doorway, he could hear the mocking echoes of either other prisoners chanting his name, or others from within the Hounds – “Che – pi – so. Che – pi – so.” The chant was clearly meant to goad him into affirming his name. He knew better than that, and simply repeated, “To justice, I have no name.” The din of the chant became louder, and faster. The syllables blended in with one another until the name became indecipherable, jumbled, out of order, and echoed. Undeterred, the voice asked him a third time. “Prisoner, what is your name?" Defiantly, the prisoner announced a simple response: “I am what you have named me.” He welcomed the punishment, knowing the bindings would flare. He prepared himself and did not flinch – instead, staying on his feet. The chant continued, entirely indeterminable. The visitor left, and today, for the first time in as long as he had been there, the prisoner went without food. The month of Moliko had finally come, and the sacrifice would happen soon.
This message was originally posted in Events and Happenings in DragonRealms' Elanthia / Zoluren Events, by DR-IRENOS on the play.net forums.