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[indent][indent][indent][indent][h3][sup][sub][color=808080]Time passed by the hours. The desert winds quelled into a placid breeze, exposing all of the sun as it maintained its apex. The guards patrolling the prison noisily quenched their thirst with waterskins full of posca, ignorant of the prisoners’ seething eyes.

A dolorous sound boomed across the prison, coming through a set of three. The ring of a great brass bell, unseen from the primary complex. Before the guards could even bellow their orders, most of the prisoners had gotten onto their feet.[/color] “Straight to the mess hall, convicts! No deviations, no funny business!” [color=808080]The block commander warned, his rank denoted by the modest plumage adorning his helmet. The prison doors whined as they opened, rusted as the spirits of the prisoners they contained.

Up several flights of steps, towards the third floor of the complex. A towering shape bumped against Agamen’s shoulder as he walked past, nearly bowling the man over. Gold of hair and mane, with broad shoulders and the countenance of a lion. The accursed tossed a glance at Agamen, flashed his pointed fangs with a grin, then continued on his way, as two other half-beasts followed after him.[/color]

“You’re lucky your pockets are already empty. Bane just cased you,” [color=808080]Marcellus leaned in to remark, gesturing after the leonine’s flexing back.[/color] “I’d keep my distance. He runs the Fanged Pride, watching out for the accursed who can afford tribute. You’ll be fine so long as you don’t step on any tails down here.”

[color=808080]The mess hall was set within the north-facing area of the third floor, with a series of sandstone furniture arranged around the edge of the complex’s giant, hollow centre. The chairs provided no comfort to the condemned, being simple, roughly-hewn blocks too heavy to even move. A veritable battalion of sentries watched their every move, their backs against the wall, their hands steadied on the pommel of their swords.

A massive line formed behind the counter, manned by prisoners from another block, whose rags were visible beneath grease-splotched aprons. Once they had received their slop of the day, the prisoners relocated to different sides of the hall - humans by the west, accursed over east. A few errant souls stuck to their lonesome, hunching over their food. A red-scaled accursed was one of the loners; chained, collared, and muzzled. Every time Agamen snuck a glance, the traitor saw him looking back, with eyes that blaze with killing intent. One guard whispered a warning at the creature, whilst another undid his muzzle.[/color]

“Now [i]that,”[/i] [color=808080]Marcellus pointed out,[/color] “Is a real good, gory reason to keep your sins to yourself. That lizard’s a godsdamned maniac. If he finds out why you’re in here, and it’s not up to his code? He’s executed more prisoners than the guards in the past month and they were all begging for The Sky Father’s judgement hours before he let them die. Eh, while they could still beg.” [color=808080]The man spoke out of the corner of his mouth in an exaggerated whisper,[/color] “Rumour is they confiscated a… tongue necklace from his cell recently. Yatagan despises oathbreakers the most.”

[color=808080]The next time Agamen spared a look, more out of impulse to check his own back, Yatagan’s burning glare trailed after him, like an animal sizing his meal. Like the meal that he ripped and tore, reducing it to a slurry of sludge, drool, and blood that trickled between his dagger-like fangs.[/color]

“Place your bets, let the tides of fate decide!” [color=808080]Over in the western corner, where the humans gathered, a woman announced through a clear, high voice. She sat on a table, legs crossed, surrounded by a gang of rippling muscles and shaved heads. With a swipe of her hand she spread a deck of cards in an arc. She was soft of face and voice, with cherry-coloured hair and a freckled smile. A smile she passed on to Marcellus as he walked past, topped by a wink.

He returned it, as well as a few hand signs that Agamen side-eyed and instantly suspected as salacious.[/color] “Our lovely lady fence Juno,” [color=808080]Marcellus hummed,[/color] “They say she’s nobility, you know. Does she look it to you, captain? Anyway, scratch my back and I’ll put in a good word, see if we can get about loaning you some bartering power.” [color=808080]A grin that almost appeared proud flashed on his face.[/color] “Just don’t try to pay off the loan by playing her games. You’ll never crawl out of debt, and you won’t know which of these bruisers she’s got in her pocket before you’re squealing.”

[color=808080]A guttural bark called for two of the names on the table. They stumbled to their feet to address their caller. A behemoth of a man, nearly hairless save for the patch of blonde around his chin. A crater-like scar spread from the remains of his right eye, and his flesh was marked all over by symbols of skulls, bones, and an eye. With a tilt of his head, the man signalled his cronies to follow. 

The three humans lumbered eastward, to cross the unseen line dividing the humans and the accursed. Many eyes were set on them in an instant, yet most were averted when the lead brute swaggered onwards, undaunted and uncaring, his attention marked on a lonely corner. Spared from the Skyfather’s light, two accursed sat together. A woman with the pallor of a corpse and the horns and hooves of a demon. And a half-man, half-serpent, whose grey and pale scales reflected the little bit of ambient light that reached him.[/color]

“Where is it, you worm?” [color=808080]The one-eyed brute demanded, stomping towards the latter.[/color] “Where is my bloodroot powder?!” [color=808080]He roared, teeth bared and spittle flying. With a violent backhand, he sent their food and drinks tumbling to the floor.[/color] “You promised me a delivery two days ago!” [color=808080] Rage twisted his face and flushed it red. His voice bellowed through the hall, loud enough to reach their fellow prisoners and the guards, none of which saw fit to intervene.[/color][/sub][/sup][/h3][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

[hider=NPCs mentioned][table][row][cell][justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]M A R C E L L U S[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/9fd65145d33e.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]human | 31 | warfare | charisma | lore[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]A charming mercenary with a soldier's upbringing that finds himself on death's row for a murder he uncharacteristically didn't do... or was it didn't get paid for? He's popular with the ladies and disarms most conflicts with a smile - but his eyes hold the dull, superficial glint of the coin his sword-arm swears fealty to.

[i]penned by CabbageAngel[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell][cell]
[justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]B A N E[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/59c0878c2227.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]accursed | 26 | warfare | plunder | curse of twin moons[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]A foolhardy, braggadacious leonine Accursed, and leader of the Fanged Pride gang in the lowest level of Bloodsand Gaol. A former highwayman with an unparalleled skill in brawling and grappling.

[i]penned by ThePigOrcEmpire[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell][cell]
[justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]Y A T A G A N[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/96a292540722.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]accursed | 35 | occult | skullduggery | curse of dragon (fire)[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]A scarlet-scaled Accursed assassin who abides by a warped, terrifying, and uncompromising code of justice, condemned for a murder spree across the Sirius Crescent. With a talent in murder, conjuration, and silencing magic, he is often seen restrained by chains and a muzzle in the prison.

[i]penned by ThePigOrcEmpire[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell][/row]
[row][cell]
[justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]J U N O[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/1ca933a472fc.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]human | 28 | skullduggery | charisma | plunder[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]Entertainer, acrobat, charlatan. Juno is the unofficial quartermaster and croupier within the lowest level of Bloodsand Gaol. A natural-born liar who tells a different tale every time she is asked about her Great Sin.

[i]penned by ThePigOrcEmpire[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell]

[cell][justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]J A X O N[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/fb20dc7f25ed.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]human  | 41 | warfare | handicraft[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]Also known as Jaxon One-Eyed or Jaxon the Cyclops; both of which he utterly despises. A short-tempered, belligerent berserker from the Free Marches, Jaxon leads the Ironhand gang in the lowest level of Bloodsand Gaol.

[i]penned by ThePigOrcEmpire[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell][cell]
[justify][center][h3][sup][b][color=bf8c50]C A S T O R[/color][/b][/sup][/h3][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/4ff66c31c1a7.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hider=Story][center][h3][sup][sub]accursed | 23 | miracles | skullduggery | plunder | curse of dragon (poison)[/sub][/sup][/h3][/center][color=808080]A cold, crypt-dwelling satyr ranger from the Empire's frontiers. Performs miracles of holy, undead-repelling magicks - but all for the personal gain of looting tombs. Has a small crow griffin companion named Mica that helps her seek out shinies.

[i]penned by CabbageAngel[/i][/color][/hider][/justify][/cell][/row][/table][/hider]

[hr][right][i][color=808080]collabs - CabbageAngel | interacts - Agamen, Ignatius | [@CabbageAngel][/color][/i][/right]