. --- [i][center]Jourstead[/center][/i] --- The Great Enslaver could feel Orfai’s presence in the town, his unmistakable stench, the mark of his involvement. He was there at Arcturus, taking his slaves, and now he was at Jourstead submitting a man to torture for his own amusement. The filth! The world was not his to change, it belonged to Kharathorr in it’s entirety. The Changelord’s arrogance must have been met with like force, but it was famously hard to infuriate the lord of Change, unless you were Nat, because every action elicits change in some form. Unless you are Nat. But this weakling human, this plaything of Orfai’s… Oh, the Changelord was intent on seeing him rot because of his stagnant nature, a noter soul that belonged to Kharathorr. His mind was set. “Shut up back there!” the guardsman cried as he smashed his fist against the iron bars of the cell, shocking silence back into Rufus once more as the priest continued to preach the ways of the Old God to the sinner. “Nobody has ever been known to escape one of the Ruin Worlds once your soul belongs to them. You have made a grave mistake, my child. The Princes are not merciful creatures, as some would have you believe,” Rufus buried his head in his hands for a short while, sobbing lightly into his palms both from fear of death, and fear of an eternity in Meta as Orfai’s plaything. The man would have given much to be free of his fate, though would he be willing to exchange it for a more torturous future to avoid laying eyes upon he who damned him? It didn’t matter. “The best I can do is offer you comfort, my child. Enjoy your last days on this earth. They tell me you hang in three days. Until then, you are free to as many meals as you please, and a small number of comforts. I beg you, choose wisely. You will not be given such graces wherever you find yourself after.” The priest stood up quickly and brushed the dust from the murky cell from his white tunic before turning to the bars and rapping on them to signal to the guards that he was finished. The man stood watch outside turned the key and yanked on the cell door, which did not budge. He gave it another tug. Nothing. He tried turning the key again, slightly frustrated this time and giving it yet another hopeful tug. The door would not budge. “Father, the door is stuck… let me try again” The priest took a step back as the Guard wrapped two hands around the bars, pulling with all his strength. The door did not even shift. The frustrated man relaxed his fingers for a second, getting ready for another try as the bars began to shift and blur… their colour changed from a bolt metal grey to… [i]black[/i]. The Guard immediately yelped in palm as his hands on the bars began to sear and melt, but he could not withdraw them His hands were being held against the molten bars by some unknown force, causing him to scream in anguish and pain as the Priest retreated to the opposite end of the cell. There was a sound. A murky whisper at first, one that could barely be heard, but could not be ignored. It emanated from all the walls of the cell. It’s incomprehensible words were aimed at Rufus. It was difficult to make out the sounds as words over the screaming of the guard, but they were there, becoming sensical before long. “Rufus…. Slayer of Women…. Hider of truths….” The fear on Rufus’ eyes intensified, leaving his eyes wide open and streaming with tears. “Why are you doing this to me, Orfai?” He screamed, backing into the opposite corner of the cell. “I am not…. Orfai…..” “Then who are you?” Rufus scream again in the same frantic tone. The whispers died down. Instead they were replaced with a deafening roar, a mixture of a million voices, all in constant, writing pain and anguish. The sound shook the cells and drowned out the screaming Guard. “[b]You, tiny mortal, are speaking with Kharathorr, the Master of Chains! And your soul belongs to me, you will not be the plaything of change for eternity, but you will suffer for the rest of time. In my Garden of Chains, you will stagnate for eternity, never to change, never to leave this fate. Your master Orfai will know. You belong to me[/b]” Three chains sprouted from the concrete below Rufus, rising and waving like some grotesque harem of snakes, sensing and smelling the fear of the man who had now soiled himself, as well as leaving a wet patch of stinking piss under his legs. The first chain latched onto Rufus’ arm, wrapping itself around multiple times as it began to singe him, causing whips of foul smelling smoke to dissipate from his arm. Rufus began to scream. The sec on chain wrapped itself around his other arm, an also began to burn with demonic intensity. The final chain circled Rufus’ torso, almost crushing the man. The last thing anybody had seen or heard of Rufus was his delusional pleading as he was somehow dragged into the concrete by the Enslaver’s Chains. The priest was found dead three days later, he had hung himself in the cellar of his home. --- [i][center]Arcturus[/center][/i] --- There was little left of the Enslaver’s Chain Forces following the battle. Evarast had come once more to be the sanctimonious Prince he was, and Csonugdytuft had preserved her own children from the chains, as was her style. These transgressions infuriated the Chained Lord, it was merely a postponing of Humankind’s fate. This world was his to enslave, his to ruin, his to torture and imprison. There would be consequences for the Princes who dared deny him his slaves. A solitary chain lay unmoving in the town square. It had been broken from it’s host by one of Evarast’s warriors. But through Kharathorr’s influence, it stirred. It began to wriggle and writhe in it’s place, tightly coiling itself into a small ball of iron links. It took the rough, vague shape of a human… two humans. The chain seemed to grow in length to suit it’s purpose. Before long, the shapes seemed lifelike, somehow they had assumed the form of a man and a woman, becoming too lifelike for anybody to ever believe the creatures were composed of the Enslaver’s Chains. The two ChainHumans stood with demonic intent, before mimic emotion lashed their faces. Tears began to stream and arms began to flail. “Evarast, save me!” The man shouted. “Csonugdytuft, I wish for your gift! I cannot stay here any longer!” The woman shouted. Time would be the only judge of whether Evarast and Csonugdytuft would fall for the decoy.