SpiritOfWrath

The guards looked to him, amused. “Fancy words.”

He was pulled out by a guard, gruffly swearing at him with an unfamiliar word. The Dwarvern prisoner was quiet, then spoke again. “Sorry, friend. But when the Healer wants you to do something, you do it.” One of the guards banged on the cell door, and the dwarf was quiet. You did notice the short stature of these guards, but they were almost unnaturally strong. The guards pushed her towards the others. “Goodbye,” coming from the other cell.

Before she could reply… *something happened* @CoderDrag0n8 @Argenti @Spark of Hope @Kaladin Stormcursed @TwinStorm @Just A Silvereye Anyone looking out their cells could see a line of guards letting out the prisoners with brands one by one, forcing them into a line.

“No, they were never under the Tyrants power. Some people believe they were what become of the Render’s power.”

“Conquerors. Killers. Almost worse than the Dwarves.”

“Yes, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the Gorin were the ones to deliver you.”

“Who knows? The Tyrant tried hard to crush the myths.” ”Maybe. Maybe not. The Tyrant himself wasn’t able to escape her manipulations.”

You can hear the conversations of the others.

“Oh, the Healer won’t kill you. You’ll just wish she did.”

Teshan follows, amused. “Are we ready? Now, if we get swarmed, I can perform a mass plague purge, but it will be tiring, and my bond with my patron is strained right now.” He looked down. “

“I mean I have no idea how that could happen.” “Myths. Legends. Of a time before the Render molded the world into planets.” “The deep folk? I would be offended, but it’s true.” He hesitated. “I’m also a prisoner, slotted for death. But… I hear things. I believe… all you newcomers with the brand on yer head, the Healer was here when you came in. And she personally wanted to interrogate you.” “That what you think? I’m a prisoner. Slotted for death, like I told the other guy.” “Well, yall all have that brand on your head.” The slot was not big enough for that, but he was able to see a blank hallway.

“Hmmm… that sounds more like the old gods.” There was a conversation going on outside the cell - a gruff voice. “Quite interesting…”

They had been burned from his body, now useless. “Huh. Then I have no idea where you’re from. Do you know how you got here?”

“A second stranger? Interesting.” @Spark of Hope The voice hesitated. “Really?”

The voice stopped for a secon. “It sounds, friend, like you aren’t from here. Have you heard of the Gorin?”

The voice gave a small laugh. “Another elf! And you haven’t heard of the dwarves?” It was just slightly suspicious. A laugh, rough and boisterous. “So you come from there, do you? Interesting. The Gorin are an intergalactic empire of twins-cursed humans that recently just fell. Left us to clean up their mess, they did.”

The voice grunted. “You’re lucky, then. I find them insufferable. From where do you come from?” @TwinStorm The voice, gruff and still exasperated, replied, slightly amused. “The home world of the Tyrant. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Gorin?”

@Kaladin Stormcursed heard him. Someone - extremely exasperated, replied. “Quiet, please. I just want some peace.” @Spark of Hope ”It’s the Dwarves high security prison. You know why you were taken?”

She grunted. “Probably some new policy made by those culture-less dwarves.”

“Hhhmm.. saw the brand on your face. Where does one get that sort of thing?” @TwinStorm Actually, his wounds seemed to be healing. However, there was no answer.

…Has Oragne not even posted here? ITS TWO PAGES?

Her cell was one in a long hall, each uniform. A voice came from one of the cells. “Are you new? We haven’t had a new person in… in so long. Usually they just… they execute them, the twins-cursed Dwarves.”