Private (+18) Drahonnal

Carina stood over Shadow, panting and bleeding. Her victory had not come easily. She was finding it hard to breathe, but at least the hard part was over. Even if Carina felt a little bad about using that unholy weapon on Shadow, that didn't mean she couldn't have fun using it. Still, Shadow would make a very good ally. Too bad Nyvis had other plans.

"Make that 16 strikes for losing against a skooma addict! Take off her shirt and let me see 16 cuts in her skin. Those that you don't make will be from me into your back!" she shouted as she tossed the whip into the cage. Guess she bet on Shadow Carina thought as she caught the whip. She lashed next to Shadow, the loud crack putting a smile on Carina's face. Shadow sat up and took her own shirt off, saving Carina the trouble. Carina circled while she did this, and the moment Shadow's top touched the floor of the cage, whack.

One Carina thought as fresh blood welled up across Shadow's back. There was already a cut from the lash Nyvis had dealt, and it looked as if it had only just stopped bleeding. Of course, it had been reopened with Carina's lash. She let Shadow collect herself, then raised the whip again.

Two, three. Carina did one right after the other this time, trying to judge how Shadow was taking it. Nyvis had made it clear that the prison was her turf, so Carina had decided to make this opportunity to be on the other side of the whip last. But Shadow...Shadow did not seem as upset as Carina had expected. She was in pain for sure, but it was almost as if she was enjoying this in a way, too. Great. I hate those kind of people.

Four, five, six. Now Shadow was looking tired. Most prisoners would probably be on the verge of passing out by now, given the thickness of the whip and the strange enchantment. Now that she thought about it, with each lash Carina was feeling a little bit stronger. She struck Shadow again, with as much force as she could. Seven

Shadow had trouble recovering from that one. Tired already? We're not even halfway done... Carina bit her tongue to keep from taunting Shadow. You might still need her, and she probably doesn't see this as friendly.

Two more lashes. Eight, nine. Carina was having fun swinging the thing around, and watching as blood made its way down Shadow's back. She couldn't help it; that was just who she was. Shadow was now hardly moving, and wasn't really up on her knees anymore. Just slouched over, on the verge of passing out. Ten

Shadow was definitely out now, and that took most of the fun out of it. Carina dealt the next six lashes rather quickly, growing tired of being in that damned cage. After she was done, she turned to Nyvis, the bloody whip still in her hand. "Now what?"

Carina stood over Shadow and she could here the girl panting, trying to catch her breath. She wondered if she was going to be able to even wield the whip. She covered the wound in her stomach so the others could not see how superficial it actually was.

"Make that 16 strikes for losing against a skooma addict! Take off her shirt and let me see 16 cuts in her skin. Those that you don't make will be from me into your back!" Nyvis said, throwing the whip into the cage. I lost, but that was MY plan you bitch.Shadow sat on her knees and peeled off her tunic herself, making sure to face the guards and Nyvis. Why not give them a show? she thought. She knew Carina would not go easy on her. And why should she? If it was me doing the lashing I wouldn't either. Carina was ruthless and strong and Shadow was her equal in that respect. She would make a keen ally in the prison. But Shadow would reserve her opinion of her when they were done being punished, for her opinion had lowered greatly when she realised the girl was a Skooma addict. She sat up straight as the first lash whipped across her back. It stung like the nines but Shadow shivered in what was almost ecstasy. It had been a long time since she had felt leather on her back and it took her back to her days spent in the torture room of the Brotherhood.

They had tried to break her then and they were not going to do it now. Another lash and then another in quick succession. Shadow blinked slowly, reveling in the pain each lashing brought. She would have enjoyed it more had she not been starting to feel drowsy. Carina seemed to be getting into her role as punisher and she lashed viciously at Shadow's back. She could feel her blood starting to fall in ribbons down her back but Shadow endured. More! she inwardly cried, gasping as the enchanted leather tore her skin and drained her life force. Seven.....eight That was the magic number, she wanted to be able to hold out that long, and as Carina continued to whip her she let herself slump and let go of the strength she held in close check until now.

Her vision was blurring and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. The floor was looking ever more inviting. Shadow had fleeting visions of her life outside the prison before she succumbed to the whip's enchantment. Just small memories. Shadow blinked slowly, the whip tore at her back, again and again and soon she slumped completely to the floor; the coppery smell of her blood enhancing her memories. She remembered the smell of Do'Jhan, the feel of his soft tawny fur...

The last thought in her head was of the sight of that same fur matted with blood as she held him in her arms, swearing vengeance on them all....

After giving the Bear-cat the proposition, Cyrus watched his face for signs of any adverse emotion. Beast races are so much harder to read than humans. Ma'Nchitar evidently took it well though. "Deal" The large Khajiit stated, before gingerly getting to his feet. He than said in a matter-of-fact tone, "But you're not going alone. Forgive Ma'Nchitar, it's not that this one does not trust you, but this one does not trust you; even in this state. Non-negotiable. Silvertongue raised a bushy eyebrow. The smaller female Mi'Jhaka had sat down against the mine wall. She was breathing hard and a small part of Cyrus felt bad for taking her ore away. He than remembered how sore and thirsty he, himself was, and all remorse flew out the window. Mi'Jhaka looked up at her (friend, associate...lover?) and polity asked "Captain? Get me a drink yeah? My throat's dryer than a Breton's sense of humor." Ma'Nchitar nodded and looked down at Cyrus. The large Cat-man retracted his claws and offered him an outstretched hand.

Cyrus looked at the Khajiit's offered hand and somewhat reluctantly took it. He felt weak, but even as an older man in the prison whose obvious strengths were not physical anymore, he still attempted to exert physical dependance. It still took a large amount of effort to raise himself, so he was quietly thankful of Ma'Nchitar's unexpected generosity.

Cyrus went to approach the cart of ebony, but Ma'Nchitar had already picked up the handles with a purposeful look in his eyes. "Uh, I'll get it on the way back down ay?" Cyrus stated with a small chuckle. Perhaps he had misunderstood this man. After 10years of very similar routine each day, inmates get comfortable with the circle they are in and everyone else just looks like blurred faces. Sure, Silvertongue had noticed the largest prisoner getting around. In fact Ma'Nchitar drew quite the attention from his stature and his knack for getting in trouble. It was from this behaviour that perhaps people drew misconceptions about him. To this day though, Silvertongue couldn't remember who out of the two of them were at the prison first.

Not that it matters... Silvertongue snapped out of his thoughts as he began walking upstairs. The unlikely pair drew some looks from the other prisoners but Cyrus was too tired to care about rumors at the moment. "So I guess it's my turn to honor my side of the bargain?" It's not that the Redguard had any special insiders knowledge of the events of last night, however he did know how to spin a good yarn. The Khajiit would, without a doubt, hear this story from other people, however Cyrus made sure it sounded like an exclusive coming from the mouth of a seasoned journalist. By the time he had finished his recount of the previous nights events, they had reached the exterior of the prison.

Fresh air... well it still smells like a sweaty cesspit, but at least there is a breeze.

After quickly dumping the contents of the cart at the drop zone, Cyrus took up the handles and they walked towards the well. The Redguard slowed to allow Ma'Nchitar to drink first.

Nyvis folded the arms and almost let her muscles relax as the swift, but tough string of the whip cut through Shadow's skin like it was paper. Usually they would shred themselves in tears at the third strike, but she was different. That prisoner was actually enjoying the Daedric pain. Still it didn't move Nyvis any closer to ordering the end of the punishment. Whether she liked it or not, the drain would eventually boil her blood enough to make her fall unsconscious on the ground at the tenth whip. The blood of the six remaining lashes quickly spread through the cage's floor, mixing itself with bits of rust that would have been loosened by time and use. Shadow would be nearly drowning on her own blood, while Carina would be idle, holding the monstruosity in her hands, the same hands that had taken the other elf's life. It would be more of a reward if Nyvis just let her walk away like that, so she just thought of something quickly to send her for a minute or two. "Let the one asleep rest in the cage... The other one, bring her this way!" Nyvis picked up a torch and walked through the darkness into the more forsaken part of the torture floor. Most tools there would be degraded to a point of unrecognizable, but a few could still be used. Among the functional punishments, there was a circle of gongs that Nyvis enjoyed calling The Circle, parodying the Companions. "Let us make her stay hosted in the circle for two minutes or three, then send her on her way to the mines again." Both the guards and Nyvis picked up earplugs, and then one of them threw the girl inside the Circle. Each grabbed a drumstick leaned against the wall, and so they let the infernal song begin, making the steeled roars echo through the floor and some even reach the mines. Even with earplugs, Nyvis had quite the hard time to bear it, it was impossible to imagine how it felt to be surrounded by noise for a non-stop period...

"So I guess it's my turn to honor my side of the bargain?" Ma'Nchitar nodded. This was twice now he had done something for Cyrus. And though he accepted the water for information deal, telling him a couple days worth of gossip would not be worth a life debt. Not that he was going to go that far with it, knowing what he knew about the Redguard and himself. The cat had broken plenty of those in his time so they'd quickly become less and less meaningful. He let the man speak for now, however he had some things to say before this was over.

Cyrus enclosed the previous nights events in detail, and Ma'Nchitar listened patiently as they walked. The sunlight from above burned his eyes like someone had smashed a bottle of piss in his face. Once the ore was dropped and they stood before the heavenly pool of water so many prisoners dreamed about on their bedrolls, Ma'Nchitar could see that he was being allowed the first drink. Were he anywhere else he'd consider this polite yet suspicious behavior. Here, it was just providence. He took the gesture and slowly knelt down so as not to upset his leg and side. With one hand bracing himself again the edge of the water, and the other gripping one of the small totems hanging from a braid on his chin, he uttered a short prayer to himself.

"I thank you, Mother-Cat, who would bless this one with this gift." It was a prayer to mother-cat Mara, his current deity. Ma'Nchitar liked to think that he had found religion in prison. You needed something to hold onto. Believing that the loving arms of Mara were swaddling you as you slept became easier and easier to fathom the longer you were able to survive in this dank skeever-hole. It was almost silly, as people generally throw out their religion in prison while Ma'Nchitar was "embracing" it...to a certain extent.

Before he drank, Ma'Nchitar turned his head to look at the Redguard in his peripherals. "Ma'Nchitar has a request of you." He took a drink from the fountain. "It is not safe to talk here." He then continued drinking until he was sated, and let the Redguard have his chance. No more words were exchanged on the way down the mines. Ma'Nchitar could only guess at what Cyrus was thinking. Perhaps he would deny any ability to do what was asked, or claim that Ma'Nchitar was insane for trying. The cat was desperate however, even if he was trying not to show it.

Upon reaching their previous location, Ma'Nchitar immediately braced himself against the wall and knelt next to Mi'Jhaka. She looked worse off than before, but smiled faintly when she saw him. He took the back of her head in his hand and pressed his lips against hers. Water dripped from Ma'Nchitar's mouth into Mi'Jhaka's. She choked weakly when he drew back, but looked satisfied enough for the time being. The Bear-Cat turned to Cyrus, all business now. He spoke in a low voice, quickly checking around for watching eyes. "Often, this one is tortured to keep him in check. Perhaps there is a way to get the guards off Ma'Nchitar's back?" He knew this was a heavy request, but his healing at the hands of Shadow after being kept in check for so long gave him a new vigor. Besides, it didn't hurt to ask...

After a few moments of standing around, Nyvis finally spoke up. "Let the one asleep rest in the cage... The other one, bring her this way!" The heavily armored guards wasted no time unlocking the cage and pouncing on Carina, prying the Daedric whip from her fingers and shoving her out of the cage. She didn't put up much of a fight, because A, she was rather worn out, and B, she knew it would only make things worse.

Nyvis grabbed a torch and lead them away from the cage, past several strange instruments, some Carina could only imagine what they would be used for. As curious as she was about them, Carina still did not want to be on the wrong side of them.

They finally stopped in front of a circle of large gongs. Carina noticed a menacing smile creep across Nyvis's face as the guards shoved Carina into the circle. "Let us make her stay hosted in the circle for two minutes or three, then send her on her way to the mines again." Nyvis and her ebony minions picked up earplugs and drumsticks. Carina glared at them as she stood up.

Nyvis gave the signal and BANG! Carina was almost thrown off balance from vibrations. Then the rest of the gongs joined in. Carina felt as if her head; no, not just her head, but her entire body was going to explode. But the volume was not even the worst part. The actual sound of the gongs, each of them either slightly sharper or flatter than the other, created a sound that must have been summoned from Oblivion. Carina pressed her palms against her ears, dug her fingers into her hair, and screamed. But even that she could not hear. Her vision was blurry, and she was extremely dizzy. She collapsed. But still, the sounds did not stop. It felt like an eternity. She punched the cold ground, trying to trigger some sort of sense other than sound. Perhaps physical pain would help block out the shaking of the air around her and the sounds of Oblivion.

When the sounds finally stopped, Carina was on her knees panting. Her ears were still ringing, and when the guards picked her up to be taken back to the mines, they had to practically drag her. She tried to walk, but every step made her all the more unsteady.

After they finally managed to throw her out of the torture floor, Carina was able to regain her composure. She took a deep breath, and found a spot on the wall near Silvertongue, who was speaking with the bear Shadow had healed last night.

Shadow was jolted awake by the sounds of gongs peeling loudly and the floor vibrating. She slowly opened her eyes and from her position on the floor of the cage she could see into a far corner Carina being dragged between two guards. They passed the cage and were out of her sight. Shadow remained on the floor, her energy drained, her blood still flowing from the many cuts on her back.

"What about this one?" she heard a guard say. The cage door opened with a loud screech that jarred Shadows teeth. She felt footsteps edge closer to her.

"Take her back out to the mining floor" Nyvis sneered. Shadow heard no more from Nyvis and she assumed she had left the torture room.

"What a mess" a guard remarked "That girl really did a number on her."

"Stow it. Or Nyvis'll think you gone soft." he kicked Shadow in the ribs "Wake up Bitch! Time to rejoin the filth" Shadow was too drained to react to the kick to her ribs, even though inside she was screaming. "f***f! Get the other side, We'll drag her out. The prisoners can deal with her". Shadow was pulled up by her arms and dragged out of the cage. Then was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Someone groped one of her breasts. "Wait... should we have a little fun first?"

"Are you f***fing mad? Nyvis will cut your dick off if she finds out. Besides, look at the mess she is in. No way I'm going to stick that" One of the guards, perhaps the kinder one of the two, slipped her tunic top back on, the rough fabric agony on her bleeding cuts.

"You have no balls, you know that right?" Shadow was lifted again and dragged out of the room. Her head slumped down, she got a good view of the floor as she was carried back into the mining room. The guards dragged her over to the old Redguard and the giant cat.

"You there!" one of the guards shouted as they dropped Shadow to the floor "Take this one below with you. If she's here after knock off time she goes to the dogs" The guards left, leaving Shadow to the mercy of the prisoners in front of her. She struggled to get up but the pain shooting through her was too great and she collapsed back to the ground.

Nothing particularly interesting happened after the punishment of the two new bloods. Nyvis went to her room, thinking about her prison being for sale, while Jaxx, the guards and the other prisoners did their job. Raenn remained quiet for the rest of the day, and since Thurayah had a tantrum, Jaxx was forced to remain silent for the rest of his work. Finally, night time came, and the guards opened the door to the dorms, herding every man and woman inside. The crowd was of such disorganization that Jaxx lost Raenya fairly quickly, and wasn't able to find her once he was back on his bedroll.

In his corner, Jaxx paid attention to every prisoner, and ignored the pain in his empty stomach that every second it made itself heard louder. Each of them was a capable threat, armed with a shiv or more, with possible past experience with weapons and gangs. And to think he was fated to be in the same place as them for killing a Thalmor, which is more of a good deed than a bad one, was enough to make anyone exalted. Jaxx wasn't feeling like hunting, and preferred to starve a little in his warm bedroll instead of leaving for a crappy meal that would merely trick his belly. A quick thought about his investor flashed through his mind as he covered his eyes with the thin leather: His investor would probably be able to get him some food if he asked, at least that was what he had made Jaxx believe in. Unfortunately, that would also cause him to move out of his warm kingdom, and so, Jaxx chose to postpone that request to the next day. Surely Silvertongue would be able to keep himself alive another night. Before sleep caressed him too hard, Jaxx patted Thurayah on her shoulder and bid her good night. "Sweet dreams Thurayah. I am sorry for looking at another girl when we are not even dating, even though I saved you from a thirsty death and you are being a total bitch..." That was actually what he meant to say, which came out in the form of "Sweet dreams Thurayah..." and caused his friend to whisper an apology afterwards.

Soon dreams would be taking over Jaxx's mind, whisking him away to greater realities. This time, he would be in a vast plain area, with live green tall grass, enlightened by golden rays of sun light, as a slight breeze made pushed his hair backwards a bit. In front of him, there was only another person. It was a tall man, young, with tired, shiny brown eyes and a light scar in his right eyebrow. His dark hair was messed and sometimes even accidentally cover his sight, but it would get quickly fixed by his bony fingers, that matched with his slender body. He wasn't smiling, but his calm looks also hinted that he wasn't angry, nor sad. Jaxx had never seen that man before, but he somehow felt like he knew him for ages. All in him was familiar: the curvy posture, his incessant habit of staring at the ground to avoid eye contact, and the constant readjustment of his glasses, all allowed him to tell who that man was right away. "Writes?" He nodded. "I am taking you out of Drahonnal, Jaxx." His creator said, chaining a burst of happiness on the breton. "Really?! Thank you!" Writes then changed his tone to a more serious one, gazing his creation in the eyes. "You need to stop being such a jerk sometimes, you know?" As Writes had made him to, Jaxx replied sassily in no time. "I am a jerk?! At least I am not a virgin!" Writes' look became one of sorrow, and Jaxx immediately felt a steely pain in his gut. "See? A jerk." As he rubbed his tummy, Jaxx growled and looked at Writes again. "Oww... What was that?!" Writes shrugged his shoulders, posing indiferently as Jaxx usually remembered him in the first place. "That was a guard waking you up..." Another powerful hit, this time on Jaxx's chest, caused that dreamy landscape to tremble. "Because of your imprudence, I made this a dream, and you are staying in Drahonnal!" Jaxx, in regrets and panics, grabbed Writes by his dark coat, as he faded away and the world was torn appart by angry roaring voices. "Wait, noo!" Before disappearing, Writes still said, with a small grin in his face "By the way, I could have also made you a virgin..."

Jaxx would open his blue eyes just before getting another kick to his crotch, by the guard that was waking him up. "Come on a**hole! Get up!" He said as he forced Jaxx on his feet with a rough pull. "Go line up with the rest!" The colossus said, before proceeding to the awakening of the rest of the scum. When orders came from a giant fully armored in one of the toughest materials in Tamriel, Jaxx would have no issue following them strictly.

Nowhere to hide! Hahahahahahaha! Nyvis was flinged once, twice, ten times around in that dark cell, bleeding from all the cuts displayed on her body. Some would write insults like SLUT or MONSTER, others would write symbols, many similar to the Thieves' Guild Shadowmarks, but one thing was certain: each of them was more pain than Nyvis would have felt in her entire life. She couldn't scream, or run, and wasn't used to such a punishment by a mere dream. On her all fours, she tried to crawl into a dark hole in her cell, as the blood reached the level of her thighs. Its a shame they don't last any longer... A needle with a string tied to it flew out of the endless darkness in that hole, and went straight inside Nyvis' mouth, piercing through her throat and lungs, coming out on the other side of her back. She coughed, as the blood she had left inside came out in a spiral around the string. Her eyes turned colorless, before she woke up.

Nyvis was feeling pain this time, which had never happened before. The dream had never been so painful, nor had its pain ever lasted after sleep. After a few seconds of readaptment to reality, Nyvis noticed she had blood in her mouth, and on her pillow. "I.. coughed blood?"

Ma'Nchitar lent down to drink from the well.... or at least that is what Cyrus assumed he would do. Instead the large Khajiit lowered his head and appeared to be praying. It wasn't a rare occurrence for a prisoner to pray, however it still intrigued the Redguard as to how such an overtly viscous beast with a seemingly selfish personality would be praying to some Deity.

...or Daedric Prince... hmm, that makes slightly more sense... you continue to intrigue me Cat.

After Ma'Nchitar had finished his prayer he turned and looked intently at Cyrus. It wasn't a look that Cyrus felt particularly warm and fuzzy about though. "Ma'Nchitar has a request of you." He than lent down and took a long drink. Silvertongue just raised an eyebrow.

I already don't like where this is heading...

"It is not safe to talk here." It indeed was not safe. As the Khajiit lent down and took another drink, a guard started to eye him off. Before the guard began to approach, Ma'Nchitar raised himself carefully and let Silvertongue have a turn.

Back down on the mining floor Cyrus considered ditching the Bear-Cat as he lent in close to his small female companion to presumably kiss her passionately. Honor, and the preservation of his image kept the old Redguard in close quarters with the pair though. Ma'Nchitar turned and gave the room a brief scan. He than leaned in a quietly and stated his request; "Often, this one is tortured to keep him in check. Perhaps there is a way to get the guards off Ma'Nchitar's back?" This unlikely request caused both of Silvertongue's bushy eyebrows to disappear beneath his fringe. It was a shocking request and not one that the Redguard would ever dream to advertise that he had those capabilities or influence. The Khajiit was deadly serious however, and Cyrus was in more debt to him than he cared to admit. A simple rejection of the idea could turn this immense beast against him in more ways than one.

Not a good move. but sh!t... how am I going to explain this one?

"Ma'Nchitar. You obviously know I have some influence with a very select few guards in this place. That influence allows me to... obtain certain goods. Common goods for the average citizen, however they are expensive and highly illegal in a place like this." Silvertongue paused to let the obvious information sink in. "The request that you have asked of me requires knowing and controlling a guard further up the food chain. I don't think I have that power and I sure have never said that I do." Silvertongue glanced around the mining floor and noticed Carina. She looked like death, and was approaching from the stairs. She had weary look to her but was putting on a brave face. The Redguard was shocked to see that she was still alive and he wondered if Nyvis kept the other young woman alive as well.

Before Carina got much closer, Cyrus turned and quickly finished off his discussion "... I can however, try. No promises, but the least I can do for you is ask." He looked intently up at Ma'Nchitar's eyes trying to convey his message as sincerely as he could. The Khajiit looked as though he would respond, however at that time, two guards came striding up to them holding up a semi-conscious Shadow. They unceremoniously dumped her on the ground in front of them and loudly ordered "You there! Take this one below with you. If she's here after knock off time she goes to the dogs."

Wow, it all happens at once these days!

Carina, who had almost picked up a pickaxe next to Cyrus looked over and had a funny expression on her face. Or maybe she was just in as much pain. Cyrus bent low over Shadow and noticed a lot of blood pooling underneath her. He gently turned her over to discover many thin whip cuts on her back. Cyrus would bet that she had been lashed by the enchanted whip too. Cyrus looked at Ma'chitar. "It's almost the end of the day. Can you help me bring her downstairs?"

Prisoners were starting to make there way down to the sleeping quarters. The group surrounding Shadow were getting many looks and as the Redguard attempted to raise her off the ground, he felt a strong tug on his rags. Irritated, Cyrus turned around, prepared to yell at whoever was interrupting him. It turned out to be Jeelius. He looked deeply saddened. "Cyrus, you have to come with me." The Redguard frowned. "It will have to wait, can't you see I'm busy!?" The Argonian looked down at the blonde Nord. "It has to do with Ricoh. You need to come with me." With that he turned and slowly walked away, going to the dark place where Cyrus had left them many hours ago.

Cyrus, still torn with what to do, made up his mind. He half handed Shadow to the Khajiit and without waiting for a response, took off after his friend. Two guards were moving awkwardly in the shadows and Jeelius was standing a little way back from them. He turned as he heard Cyrus approach. "I'm sorry old friend, but Ricoh is dead." As the guards passed the pair, he could see Ricoh's lifeless form being carried by them. The Redguard's mind went blank as he stared towards the once imposing figure of Ricoh.

"Ma'Nchitar. You obviously know I have some influence with a very select few guards in this place. That influence allows me to... obtain certain goods. Common goods for the average citizen, however they are expensive and highly illegal in a place like this."

Ma'Nchitar could see he wasn't going to receive a return in this deal. He had seen the Redguard making deals and trading objects for years now. If anyone in Drahonnal was going to have a chance at this (besides Nyvis who was certainly not an option). He braced himself for the answer that was surely coming.

"The request that you have asked of me requires knowing and controlling a guard further up the food chain. I don't think I have that power and I sure have never said that I do."

Why has Ma'Nchitar been given the opportunity to pull that man from the stone floor? Perhaps he would call for this payment at a later date? Perhaps one of the gods were preparing him for something in the future. Perhaps one of the Daedric Princes were doing something to that effect. His short and direct thought process was interrupted when Cyrus noticed something off to the side entering the room. The cat turned to see a young girl weakly making her way down the stairs. This was interesting. Just what did the Redguard know of the girl? Another potential addition to his collection? He put those thoughts aside, something he was quickly realizing ended up happening a lot lately.

"I can however, try. The least I can do for you is ask." Ma'Nchitar pinched the bridge of his nose. A request may just make things worse. Unless this man had control, the Cat was just appointing a middle man. He looked up to respond, but then he saw it. It was the girl. She was dragged across the floor and tossed to the stone. "You there! Take this one below with you. If she's here after knock off time she goes to the dogs." Without knowing why, Ma'Nchitar shuddered at the mention of "the dogs". "It's almost the end of the day. Can you help me bring her downstairs?"

Ma'Nchitar jerked his head upwards. The Redguard was already struggling to pull her up. It looked rather pathetic, an people were beginning to stare. The cat took several tentative steps and slowly reached his arms out to help. Then he turned her around and he froze. Her back had been scarred by that monster whip, something that had scarred Ma'Nchitar's mind almost as much as his back. Before he could pull back, she had been tossed into his hands and the Redguard was off into the gloom with that Argonian Jeelius, one of his companions. He looked around the room, no Mi'Jhaka. She must have gone back to her bedroll, wherever that was. She would find him again, but he was on his own for now. Then he glanced down at the young Nord girl in his arms.

Well, apparently not completely alone. For better or for worse. He shook his head and hoisted the girl into his arms, gently placing her head on his furry shoulder. She was weak, and it was unlikely that she had the strength to fight back. She may not even want to at this point, seeing as she was essentially being carried by a giant pillow. Thankfully she was also light as a feather, so no strain on his side and leg that wasn't there already. He limped towards the prisoner housing, the river of inmates giving him a wide berth. The pair received many strange looks as Ma'Nchitar entered the hall. He was afraid of, and still unsure as to why he was doing this. Carrying a young girl in his arms was probably the one thing that could make him stand out more in Drahonnal. They reached his bedroll without incident (thank any god that was listening) and he set her down on the mass of animal pelts he'd acquired over the years. Other prisoners would trade for such things with people who could get them from the outside, so there was a wolf and bear pelt nestled with all the delicately placed skeever fur. He knelt down and wiped the blood off his arm. Skeever may not be the most comfortable, but it absorbed moisture well enough.

"Cat! You can't keep a little thing like that to yourself. You'd better feel like sharin'..." Ma'Nchitar looked around to see a Dark elf and a large Nord standing before him. They were of forgettable features, average proportions and stereotypical black and blonde hair, respectively. Even when he was kneeling, they barely came up to his height. Before they could continue, Ma'Nchitar roared like a bear protecting it's cave. They backed away and took off back to their bedrolls. Ma'Nchitar coughed into his hand and turned his gaze back to Shadow. He spoke in a low growl, trying his hand at comfort. "This one does not suppose you are capable of healing your wounds in this state? Ma'Nchitar has not practiced simple field medicine for many years, and stopping the blood would not be easy." His skills in binding wounds weren't good. They never had been. His sister had always done that sort of thing. Unfortunately, his debt to this girl was looking a bit unfulfilled.

"It's almost the end of the day. Can you help me bring her downstairs?"Shadow recognised the voice of Cyrus. Rough hands grabbed her and he struggled to lift her, despite her slight weight. It felt like her back was being torn open all over again. Then she was handed over to someone else and Cyrus was gone. No.. wait..

Shadow was only vaguely aware of being lifted and carried by a pair of strong furry arms. Her head fell onto a soft shoulder and she blinked in the gloom of the mine. A Khajiit had her in his arms..If she was not feeling like she was dying she would have buried her face into that soft fur. The pain and loss of blood left her dizzy and disorientated and for a moment she forgot where she was. Do'Jhan...? What..? She was carried down a dark tunnel and into an even darker vast room. The Khajiit took her over to a corner to a pile of furs.

Soon she was lowered down into the nest of soft furs and she could see his face. Not him, the other one..the one I healed.. Someone approached them and the cat suddenly growled at them, like a mother cat protecting its cubs. Shadow shifted to lessen her pain, but her tunic top was starting to stick to the blood that had dried on her back. She was lucid enough to know that if she didn’t get herself healed soon she would simply bleed to death.
But she was too weak and confused to summon up the energy for her healing spell. She would be in trouble if she could not heal. She felt fear. A feeling she had not felt for a long time. She felt vulnerable as well. A feeling she did not like at all. Seemingly now at the mercy of this giant Khajiit who was nothing like the one she knew a lifetime ago. Still, he had carried her down here, laid her on his own bedroll and protected her from the predators of the prison. Was he merely repaying her for the healing she had done to him, or were his plans for her more sinister? He leant down to her and whispered in a low growl.

"This one does not suppose you are capable of healing your wounds in this state? Ma'Nchitar has not practiced simple field medicine for many years, and stopping the blood would not be easy." She nodded her head as she looked up into his big luminous eyes.


“I can’t” she coughed painfully “I can’t do it, I’m sorry” what was she apologising for? She was not certain, but she did know that if she didn’t heal soon, she was as good as skeever bait. “Ma’Nchitar” she said then, testing his name on her tongue, getting the syllables right due to her experience with the cat people. “I’m bleeding..... all over your bed” she observed before blacking out again.

Cyrus had experienced death before. Death of family. Death of friends.

For some reason Ricoh's death was having a large impact on him. He had only known the young Redguard for a couple of years, but relationships in this place where usually a lot more intense due to the hostile and close-knit environment. The walk back to the sleeping floor was a blur. His Argonian friend walked at his side and Cyrus could tell that Jeelius was worried about him. It had been a full-on day and this Redguard wasn't getting any younger. The emotional struggle of Drahonnal was known to claim nearly as many lives as the physical abuse.

As they neared the stairs to descend, a rough hand grabbed at Silvertongue's arm. "Keep walking Argonian." Cyrus absent-mindedly turned to see the large ebony clad guard. "Godrik?" mumbled Cyrus, still in a daze. Nothing felt real. He was felt like he should be dizzy but there was no feeling of losing balance. Just the feeling of impending nausea and a constant confusion. "I heard about your friend." Godrik's voice cut through some of the blur and brought Cyrus back to reality somewhat. "A deal is a deal though, and you had already paid me." The large Nord looked around quickly at the deserted mining floor than brought out a standard healing potion. Silvertongue took the potion, vaguely remembering the conversation and bargain that the pair had struck just that morning.

It feels like years ago.

The bottle had some thin rope attached to it and he used that to tie it up on his rope belt and slung it inside his ragged trousers. Cyrus turned and almost draugr-like, walked down the stairs. He had completely forgotten to honour his word with the Bear-Cat about asking the guards to go easy on the large Khajiit.

Cyrus slowly wound his way through the different camps and made a beeline for his own inviting bed. Sleep. Sleep will make things better was all he could think. Just as Cyrus chose the moment to raise his eyes off the ground, he caught sight of an elf and a Nord talking to Ma'Nchitar. He couldn't make out the words but they soon left with a worried look on their face and the Khajiit turned back to his bed. A small figure with blonde hair could just be seen engulfed by the mass of animal furs.

Sh!t Shadow! ... Bed? Or help the poor bleeding new girl?

Cyrus stood rooted to the spot for a couple of seconds than strode purposefully towards the Bear-Cat's bed. As he got nearer, he saw she was unconscious or asleep and many of the furs underneath her had a red staining tinge to them. "My apologies Ma'Nchitar. It was rude of me to leave you so abruptly but it was very important." Cyrus looked at the huge Cat and could have sworn that he could see a look of helplessness as he stared down at the slight figure inhabiting one of his most prized possessions. An inmates bed was a very sacred thing. To give up your bed for another, was nearly unheard of and required a large amount of compassion and heart. Again Silvertongue wondered how they had developed so much feeling in such a small amount of time.

Without wasting any more time, the Redguard made up his mind. He untied the potion that was just given to him and slowly poured the contents into the young ladies mouth. He hoped it would be strong enough... only time would tell. And so he waited.

Shadow was jolted awake as she choked on a liquid being poured down her throat. Her eyes flew open and she panicked, trying to lash out at her attackers, but she was too weak and merely grabbed onto someone's furry arm. As she coughed her first instinct was to spit the rest out but then she tasted the fiery liquid that could only be a health potion and let the rest slide down her throat. It warmed her through as it got to work on her bleeding body and she blinked up at the faces peering down at her. One a dark, bearded man, the other a large Khajiit. As she felt the healing potion's affects she realised where she was and tried to push herself up onto her elbows but a firm hand or paw pressed her back down into the furs.

"If this were any other time, you'd probably loose your hand for touching me like that.." she mumbled then licked the rest of the potion off her lips. "...without my permission of course." she flashed a quick, nervous smile, then winced in pain again. The tingling sensation in her back almost unbearable. She didn't like being in this vulnerable position. She was a loner, and looked after herself. She kept company when she felt like it, then vanished into the night, never to be seen again. Now she was laying helpless and needy and it irritated her to no end.

But this place, it was different. You didn't survive on your own. She needed to make friends. She laughed at herself in her head. Friends, yes, look what having friends did for me..... Still,.... She looked at both Cyrus and Ma'Nchitar and they actually appeared to be concerned for her. She found it odd, then felt slightly remorseful. Slightly. She didn't mean to come off as ungrateful for the sacrifice it must have taken to feed her the potion. She was amazed that they had given it to her in the first place..

And then wondered why they did it.

"I... thank you" she then said slowly, reluctantly, wondering what she now owed to the two.

Ma'Nchitar was at a loss for what to do. He didn't usually end up in situations like this. If someone was lying there on is bed and bleeding out a lung, he'd probably been the cause. He was a legend for being ruthless, wild and merciless for Baan Dar's sake. Now he was playing nurse-maid to a Nord girl simply because of...J'Haka "But the longer Ma'Nchitar helps this girl, the weaker he will look. This one cannot " He knew he was being sabotaged by his own wilting sentiment. And this girl smelled like Dark Brotherhood too. Did he mention that? She was getting Dark Brotherhood all over his sheets, he was sure of it. Yeck.

And then his eyes met with those young, piercing blue peepers and he could feel a twinge in the back of his cold, black heart. She weakly managed an “I can’t” and the cat steeled himself.

"Ma'Nchitar has murdered and raped women younger than this. Ma'Nchitar is not going to succumb to sentiment."

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry”

"Ma'Nchitar burns homes to the ground and rips smoothskins still-beating hearts from their chests. Ma'Nchitar murders innocents and EATS BABIES-

“Ma’Nchitar” Her pronunciation was spot on, and it struck the cat-man like the cane of an angry Redguard grandmother. Ma'Nchitar realized he owed the child more than a comfortable death. This wasn't going to repay the debt to the girl, nor would he forgive himself for letting something that reminded him of his sister die. But that still left the aching reality that there was so little he could do. “I’m bleeding..... all over your bed” Said the Nord girl before she went limp. Ma'Nchitar knelt down and hurriedly checked her pulse, his braids and dreadlocks falling into the girl's face. He drew back when he found she still drew breath for the moment. Ma'Nchitar half-sighed, half-groaned.

"Lucky Ma'Nchitar. The Mother-Cat is taking a strange turn in her treatment of this one. On the one hand, she is alive. But on the other hand...-" The cat stroked the braids coming down from his chin. "-she's still alive... Although for how long remains to be seen." Was Ma'Nchitar to receive this reminder of memory, this "shadow" of his life before, only to have it gently taken from him? That would be rather depressing. almost like clockwork, he felt a presence at his side. It was Cyrus, the robber-baron back from his sojourn into the mine with Jeelius.

"My apologies Ma'Nchitar. It was rude of me to leave you so abruptly but it was very important." Deep in thought and confusion, Ma'Nchitar could only look helplessly at the Nord girl while Cyrus poured a strange liquid into her mouth. The cat sniffed, startled at the familiar scent of a healing potion (something he'd certainly had his fair share of downing in the "old days"). In fact, this whole situation was startling, but that was a conversation to have with himself later. Suddenly, the girl jumped from her slumber and grabbed his arm. Were he a lesser Khajiit, he'd have screamed like a little Breton girl by the sheer shock value of it. He quickly regained his composure, just in time to firmly push the girl right back down onto the pelts and furs.

"If this were any other time, you'd probably loose your hand for touching me like that.." Ma'Nchitar raised an eyebrow. "...without my permission of course."

"Terribly high speak for one who needed the aid of another to murder Rythe-the-Rapist." He looked at Cyrus and silently nodded in thanks. The Redguard had saved Ma'Nchitar from a broken debt which he would appreciate. The cat-man pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his forehead and eyes. "An interesting day, this has been. You need to rest, girl. Nyvis' whip cuts deep, especially with repeated use."

Despite the "thank you" from Shadow and the nod of thanks from Ma'Nchitar to the weary Redguard, Cyrus was still too preoccupied about his friends death to acknowledge much. "An interesting day, this has been. You need to rest, girl. Nyvis' whip cuts deep, especially with repeated use." The Bear-cat was talking to the injured young lady, but Cyrus had to agree with the 'resting' part. It had been an interesting day. And a long day. "I to, need to rest. There has been another death just recently. Ricoh... a friend of mine was interrogated by the guards and could not recover quick enough from his injuries before I could get to him." He spoke to ground and wondered why he was telling these people. They would surely find out soon enough and it didn't affect them.

I guess it's Ricoh's parting gift to you Shadow... his life for yours, and he didn't even know it...

"That's why I had the health potion, it was intended for Ricoh." Cyrus' eyes flicked up at Shadow for a second before he rose to his feet. With one last look at the unlikely, yet close pair, the old man turned and wound his way back to his bed.

His group of inmates were sitting around a low fire. So low it threatened to die. Yet none of them made an attempt to breath life into its fading flames. They were all silent, staring absent mindedly, making no attempt at small talk and evidently not inclined to hunt for food on this particular night. Cyrus strode past them and climbed into his bed. Again no words were said and even the rest of the sleeping floor seemed rather hushed and quieter than usual. Despite the lack of noise, sleep never came for the Redguard that night.

Shadow watched the Redguard and the Khajiit as they exchanged a nod, wondering of their acquaintance. She was still in a fair amount of pain and the affects of the whip was making her drowsy once again. She would not be moving from Ma'Nchitar's nest of furs even if she wanted to.

"An interesting day, this has been. You need to rest, girl. Nyvis' whip cuts deep, especially with repeated use." Shadow nodded; he was right about that. Had he felt the cruel lashings of that enchanted whip to?

"I to, need to rest. There has been another death just recently. Ricoh... a friend of mine was interrogated by the guards and could not recover quick enough from his injuries before I could get to him." Shadow was not sure if she should show some sympathy towards the Reguard losing his friend. She was not overly used to interacting with people without acting a part. As a means to an end. Which was usually the pointy end of her twin ebony daggers. She played a part and used deception so often to get to her target that she sometimes didn't know how to react to someone normally. "That's why I had the health potion, it was intended for Ricoh." Cyrus then said. Again, Shadow did not know what to say and before she could do anything, Cyrus had got up and left for his own bedroll, leaving her alone with Ma'Nchitar.

Shadow studied the Khajiit closely. His hair was bound with all sorts of odd looking beads. She knew a few of his kind that liked to adorn themselves this way. Even Do'Jhar had worn a few in his hair. Mostly made from the hollowed-out bones of his victims. Ma'Nchitar was the largest Khajiit she had seen in her time and had the darkest fur with almost no markings at all. He wore the oddest pair of pants which reminded her of something a pirate would wear.

As she lay there she felt the health potion working it's way through her blood stream, feeling briefly guilty about Cyrus's friend, before her body started to relax once again and her eyes drooped. Her thoughts swirled around inside her head and she grew disoriented, thinking she was back in her hideout. The cave she and Do'Jhar had found. She saw the Khajiit before her and smiled. It was him, back from a long hunting trip.

"You are home, finally" she said to him resting her hand on top of his, not noticing the odd look he gave her before she fell into blackness.

"I to, need to rest. There has been another death just recently. Ricoh... a friend of mine was interrogated by the guards and could not recover quick enough from his injuries before I could get to him." Ma'Nchitar's eyes fell. He didn't know this Ricoh from much beyond sight, but he knew the fear of death in the interrogation rooms. Mara preserve him, a death by the guards was basically death by natural causes here in Drahonnal. Even if this "Ricoh" were scrappy as a cliff racer on a heavy skooma trip, being beaten to death was still, well, death.

The cat shuddered. He hated Cliff Racers; access to skooma or not.

"One of the younger ones. A pity that it is so often the younger ones." he thought, trying to recall an image of the Redguard's face in his mind. It wouldn't come, but that didn't surprise Ma'Nchitar. Most of the faces he knew here were Khajiit from the deeper, darker caves he spent so much time in.

"That's why I had the health potion, it was intended for Ricoh." Ma'Nchitar couldn't stop the corner of his lip from curling. If there was proof of something out there watching over the inmates of Drahonnal (for whatever reason), that was as good an example as any no matter how dark. Still, he felt a twinge of sympathy for the Redguard in spite of himself. It was difficult to sympathize, though, having been just about on his own for over ten years now. Ma'Nchitar wanted to say something but Cyrus had already walked off, perhaps still in shock. It likely wouldn't have done any good if Ma'Nchitar had spoken up anyways. He wasn't the best for comfort. Usually he could've cheered up his sister with a little murder and pillaging, and the whores of the Hammerfell's taverns and houses of "ill repute" were generally focused on things other than emotions. It just made things easier that way.

The cat-man began toabsent-mindedly clean his forearm with his tongue.

Thinking about whore-houses reminded Ma'Nchitar of Mi'Jhaka, who was currently nowhere to be found. She had disappeared in the confusion when Cyrus had tossed the Nord girl into Ma'Nchitar's arms. "Could be anywhere by now; that kitten is small enough to sleep in the shadow of a fence. She'll turn up eventually, though."

It was then that Ma'Nchitar felt a hand touch his. He suddenly realized that he had been cleaning himself and snapped out of the trance of thought he had wandered into. The girl was looking at him differently than when she had woken up. Before, her eyes were determined and strong, but what Ma'Nchitar could see now was an expression of glassy recognition. "You are home, finally" she said. The Khajiit was taken aback. "Could she be seeing that Do'Jhar she'd mentioned earlier? Must have taken quite a beating if that's how the potion is hitting her. Better that than threatening to maim Khajiit. Cheeky Nord."

It was then that she nodded off on his bedroll. An unsurprising turn of events that left Ma'Nchitar to sit there and consider his options, Shadow's hand still resting on his. She was a small thing even for a Nord, and left enough comfortable space for Ma'Nchitar to rest his head for the night. The Khajiit placed Shadow's hand on her chest and pulled a deer pelt over her lower half. He could only imagine what she'd do when she woke up and realized she was sleeping next to a big, breathing ball of fur curled up like a black bear. Honestly though, any thoughts of being assaulted by a surprised little blonde were silenced by his sudden overwhelming desire to close his eyes... "Perhaps Ma'Nchitar should just... keep watch for some more...more time..." He raised his head and yawned deeply, stretching out his tongue and opening his jaw wide before setting his chin back down on the bedroll next to her arm, breathing softly out of his nose. "Eyes droopy... Could just listen, for danger..." His left ear began to fold back leaving the right one to stick into the air, ever vigilant in it's watch for danger.

"Very sleepy... maybe just a few...more...second-" Unable to keep awake any longer, Ma'Nchitar bade the night goodbye. He was whisked off to Vaermina's realm to dream of mead, and comely lasses with bouncing...balls of yarn.

Nyvis still spent a few minutes scouting her teeth and tongue with a tissue, looking for the source of the blood. The pain was sharp and never softened a bit, just like the bleeding. After a while holding her urge to spit out the blood, the wound somehow ceased to bleed, maybe thanks to the coagulation and the pain was somewhat relieved. Even after taking all that time to muffle the pain, the sun was still to rise, and Nyvis had once again been thrown out of her sleep earlier than she should have.

She wasn't in the mood to wait for everyone else to stand up, not after the cheap move Elisif had just plotted against her. So, Nyvis put on her armor and woke every guard up. "Get up, all of you! I want you to take your shifts sooner today! If the prisoners start working sooner, we get more ebony! Come on!" There was no man that didn't mumble or complain, until her whip cracked on the wooden floor. "I said, get up! You can whack it later! Or just rape a prisoner that doesn't obey!" After that, there was little to be heard, other than a moth's wings flapping above a pile of dirty rags. Every man put on his own armor, without any pudency about their leader, and soon the prisoners would be awakened, with less than six hours to rest from their slavery.
-------------------------------------------------

"Ugh... What happened to the six hours to rest anyway?" Jaxx complained, being fairly aware of the time underground, thanks to his scavenging experience. "Who gives a pl*ps?! It's not like you people matter anyway!" A guard replied, obviously also in a bad mood for being woken up so soon. "Come on, already!" Another one complained, trying to get some heavier sleepers out of their rest as well. "Nyvis wants you to work sooner for more ebony today!" It was actually quite humorous to watch that. Both guards and prisoners were tired, and even the acts of violence that would be fairly shocking to regular civilians, combined with their exhaustion, seemed puny and less intense. Men and women dragged themselves out of their bedrolls, squirming on the floor as the guards lightly kicked them, almost to no avail. "Hurry the fl*ff up!" Nyvis exploded, in the entrance of the mine. Even unseen, she had bossiness and was scary. The prisoners' behaviour didn't change much after the scream from above, but the guards' did. Their kicks became strong as soon as she roared, and it didn't take long for every prisoner to finally line up at the entrance of the mine. "Huh? Where is Thurayah?" Jaxx thought, just before getting shoved inside the mines.

Shadow awoke when all was still quiet down on the sleeping floor of the prison. She blinked as she stared into blackness, then started as her eyes came into focus and that blackness turned into dark fur. She had rolled over during the night and now found she was curled up against a large furry pillow. A warm, large furry pillow. Then she remembered she was in the Khajiit's bed. Her memories came flooding back just as the pain in her back also washed over her. She had not gotten near enough sleep for the wounds to have lessened in pain. She needed to heal but was afraid that if she healed herself too much the guards would notice.

She was hidden from the view of everyone else thanks to her furry protector so she began to focus on healing just the insides of the wounds until they were nothing more than scratches. They still looked fresh and painful, but underneath the surface was healed, knitted flesh. Shadow could act like she was in pain for a few days and that would not cause anyone to question her wounds. As she concentrated on the delicate work she had to do on her back, she also let a trickle of healing power flow into the Khajiit as well. He is still asleep, he wont notice until he wakes up. She felt he deserved her healing. If not for him and Cyrus she would probably have bled out on the mine floor. Either that or taken away to be fed to the dogs.

She concealed the glow of her hands under the cat's fur as she placed one hand on him and one on herself. It only lasted half a minute but it was enough. It's all I can do for now... tonight I will do more. It would be enough for her to get through the day at least. She lay there enjoying the softness and warmth emanating from the Khajiit. His features calm in his slumber. It had been a long time since she had been that close to anyone. She didn't want it to end but new it was likely to be inevitable. As she lay there she heard movement from the entrance and then guards started yelling at inmates to wake up. Shadow was sure they had come in earlier than the night before and wondered why they were being woken early.

The guards' yells were answered with grunts and cries as the sleepy inmates arose from their interrupted sleep. Shadow was worried that the guards, when they cane to the sleeping cat, would kick him and so she gingerly reached out a hand and placed it on his face to rouse him.

"Ma'Nchitar... wake up!" she whispered urgently.

Stoking up the fire in the silent morning was the perfect time to reminisce about the young Redguard. Reminisce, not mourn. Throughout the night his heart had callused over and today was anew. The ability to set his emotions aside is what had kept Cyrus alive and ahead of the game for the past three decades, and while the shock of losing a close friend whilst simultaneously being able to provide him with the means to recover had caused Silvertongue an unexpected wave of grief, focusing on the event would not do himself any good.

As the water boiled, Cyrus shook his lizard-companion awake to join him in the morning ritual. Jeelius usually slept as light as Cyrus, however with the previous days tragedy, now was not the time to poke fun at his friends unusual sleeping pattern. After all, everyone deals with grief and loss in their own way.

As Jeelius roused slowly from his slumber, a loud noise and scuffle broke out at the entrance of the cavern. The Redguard's camp was strategically placed to see the entrance in the distance, but not so far back in the depths, where the braver skeevers would sometimes come out and nibble on a sleeping inmates toes in the dead of night. It was not easy to get this spot. The fact that the slab of stone that rises six inches higher than the cavern floor on which Cyrus has his bedroll, and that there is a hollow in the ground for the fire which has been in various states of burning for as long as he can remember (Having ebony pebbles at the base of the fire keeps it smoldering almost indefinitely. Our little secret..), made this location a killer piece of property. Literally.

The guards were making there way slowly and grumpily through the ranks of equally grumpy prisoners. It wasn't a rare thing to be woken up early, but Cyrus was quite offended that they chose the morning after the day of torturing so many inmates, himself included. Not to mention that he could not discuss Ricoh with his oldest and most scaly friend over a morning brew.

"Hurry the fl*ff up!"

Nyvis' angry and demanding roar echoed through the immense chamber. Instantly the guards intensified their exercise and the prisoners nearly jumped out of their bedrolls. It was quite effective for everyone really.

Cyrus helped his Argonian comrade to his feet, looked longingly at the boiling water and shuffled towards the entrance before an ebony boot could come anywhere near him. It was going to be a long day. A tiring day.

But with a bit of luck, hopefully no one will get maimed or raped or killed..

Cyrus surprised himself with a chuckle.

Yeah right, and I will get back massage and a large ale...