[table][row][cell][color=2e2c2c]________[/color][/cell][cell][center][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/d1df8fa232c1.jpg[/img][hr][i][h3][sub][sup][color=bf8c50]Indicted, chained, and condemned, 
You were days away from the mercy of execution... [/color][/sup][/sub][/h3][/i][/center][/cell][cell][color=2e2c2c]________[/color][/cell][/row][/table][indent][indent][indent][indent][h3][sup][sub][color=808080]On the far reaches of the Empire, in a land barren of greenery, where fertile earth gave way to arid sands. Where the dunes were so ancient, their snaking hills cast shadows and dust upon cyclopean structures; ancient, half-buried, and hewn of slate-black boulders. Amidst the scattering of these ruins, and underneath the scorching glare of daylight, a more contemporary structure struck out to pierce the sky. A tower of crimson sandstone, built not by ancient forces, but by the blood, sweat, and death of countless slaves. The Bloodsand Gaol. Behind its stone walls, hundreds of souls were interned over twenty floors, with the most wretched and condemned left to rot within its abyss.

As the sun reached its midday peak, as the winds howled to carve across the endless stretch of the dune sea, a chorus of hooves thundered from the west. A score of the Empire's jet-black stallions, their manes billowing, their muscular bodies straining beneath the weight of their charge. Reins of leather and chains conjoined them to an Imperial caravan, an oaken fortress on wheels, divided into two cars. A frame of bronze fortified their structure, whilst layers of red and gold signified the vehicle's allegiance. What few windows were built into it were barred, and constantly watched by the cavalry keeping pace beside the caravan. 

Indicted. Chained. Condemned. Twenty days had passed since the disgraced general embarked on this unfavoured journey. With nothing but unwashed rags and the deluge of his own sweat to protect his modesty. His wrists were red and raw from the bite of his manacles, his hair matted and tousled over his eyes. The sturdy Imperial oak did little to protect him from the scorching heat of the desert, and even less when night fell and the air turned cold and numbing. Soothsayers muse that misery loved company, and on this journey, he was not wanting for either. Prisoners sat beside him, cuffed and chained, from all over the Empire and beyond. A slinking thief from the Capital. A corpulent brigand from the hills of the Heartland. A barbarian; bright-haired and light-skinned, his pale muscles painted with blasphemous triskelions common to Free March tribes. And across from the disgraced general, one of the Accursed, his body covered in frayed, oil-black fur, his mouth a snarling mess of warped teeth and drool, visible even through the studded leather muzzle forced around his snout. The creature stared at the man with yellow, pupil-less eyes, glaring wide with a bestial madness that seemed irreconcilable with his humanity.[/color]

“Oh, he likes you,” [color=808080]one of the caravan guards sneered, strutting towards the general with one hand on the pommel of his sword. His lorica segmentata rattled noisily with every step, its sheen dulled by layers of storm-born dust.[/color] “But then, who wouldn’t?” [color=808080]He scrutinised his prisoner, his arms spread in mocking declaration.[/color] “The prodigal general of the 12th Legion, forsworn conqueror of the Godless Seas!” [color=808080]The guard’s smile faded as he stepped back and shook his head.[/color] “Just another traitor, whom history won’t even remember.” [color=808080]He spat, leaving a congealed glob at the traitor’s foot, then walked away.

The storm calmed as the caravan neared the gaol. Wind and dust gave way to the full power of the sun, its sheer heat making the very air shimmer. The sands scorched the feet of the traitor and his fellow prisoners as they marched, ushered by the pitiless guards, themselves excreting their body weight in sweat underneath their metal armour. One especially parched guard splashed the contents of his waterskin all over his face in a careless attempt to quench his thirst. His commanding officer took offense.

Through the valleys of dunes, beneath the ever-vigilant watch of archers. The portcullis of Bloodsand Gaol groaned as it retracted, sand and rust trickling from its weathered fangs. The gaol’s foyer provided momentary respite from the desert sun as the traitor’s escorts exchanged formalities and papers with the officials. The cacophony of words was difficult to discern beneath the heatstroke, but the words ‘Giftless’ and ‘No collar necessary’ stood out. The traitor’s respite was cut short as a prison guard ushered him along. Beyond the foyer, and into the depths of the prison. Twenty floors of sandstone, carved into walls that curved around a colossal, hollow centre. A grand, open skylight peered at the very peak of the tower, bringing the Sky Father’s light even to the ground floor of the gaol… as well as beneath it. Down the spiraling stairs, towards the lowest level of the gaol, dug below the dunes themselves. 

The traitor walked past cells upon cells as the sentries escorted him. Men, women, humans, Accursed. The Empire cared not for distinction, except between the innocent and the damned. Most kept to themselves, splayed out in their cells, with only filthy rags as comfort. Some passed their time simmering in fury, watching the patrolling guards for a moment of weakness. Others returned from outside, hunched and hyperventilating, caked in dust, filth, and sweat, their hands bruised and inflamed by hard labour. One of the cells on the other side of the traitor creaked open as prison guards stormed in, shouting and cursing, and splashed an unconscious prisoner with a bucket of vinegar. He sputtered and gasped, but remained aground. A beatdown of kicks and stomps followed. Above, carved into the stone beside the number that designated the traitor’s cell, was a simple phrase.

[center][i]Nulla Impiis Pax.[/i][/center][/color]
“Inside, prisoner!” [color=808080]The sentry escorting the traitor barked, then shoved him forward. The rusted door ground shut behind him, then clicked into place.[/color][/sub][/sup][/h3][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

[hr][right][i][color=808080]collabs - none | interacts - Agamen | [@CabbageAngel][/color][/i][/right]