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The dungeon stank of piss, shit, and mildew. This deep within the black stone fortress of Cerak At'Thul the temperatures dipped uncomfortably cold. No windows here and normally pitch black, Roul guessed, but they lit a few guttering torches for him.
He shifted and the heavy, enchanted chains around his hands and feet rattled.
Supposed he shouldn't be surprised that they had such suitable chains on hand with a full moon approaching. He probably wasn't the first lycanthropy victim amid their little menagerie of freaks. Although the chains were rather large. Maybe they had a minotaur down here, who knew.
He had barely glimpsed the other residents of his temporary abode and heard little besides occasional whimpering from their cells. He supposed he should be grateful. The dungeon's denizens could be screaming in terror. And maybe they would be, he had only been down here a day - or so he thought. That horned-man, Gwyddion, had seen what he was the moment their eyes met. Gwyddion promised it wasn't permanent. Roul didn't have much of a choice.
None of them did since shipwrecking on this isle.
Roul looked up at the soft padding of footsteps.
"Keres?" he rasped, hopeful.
He shifted and the heavy, enchanted chains around his hands and feet rattled.
Supposed he shouldn't be surprised that they had such suitable chains on hand with a full moon approaching. He probably wasn't the first lycanthropy victim amid their little menagerie of freaks. Although the chains were rather large. Maybe they had a minotaur down here, who knew.
He had barely glimpsed the other residents of his temporary abode and heard little besides occasional whimpering from their cells. He supposed he should be grateful. The dungeon's denizens could be screaming in terror. And maybe they would be, he had only been down here a day - or so he thought. That horned-man, Gwyddion, had seen what he was the moment their eyes met. Gwyddion promised it wasn't permanent. Roul didn't have much of a choice.
None of them did since shipwrecking on this isle.
Roul looked up at the soft padding of footsteps.
"Keres?" he rasped, hopeful.
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