I was awakened in the usual way you would expect for a prisoner, a boot to the stomach. It took several moments to drag myself off the cold, hard, cell floor and stand so the guard could shackle me and lead me out of the guardhouse. The time had finally come, they led me out and down the street towards death row. Adding me to a line of other prisoners headed to the same place I looked back at the guard house that had kept me these last 2 days and was glad to be gone. I was so stupid, I wish for the safety of that cold dark cell every time I lay down to sleep now.
We marched down the streets towards the beginning of death row to the shouts and jeers of an already large crowd. You would think they had better things to do at dawn than harassing doomed men but apparently they had decided this was more important. I was hit with no less than three pieces of rotten produce and at least 2 rocks by the time we made it to the large guard house that marked the start of death row. It took dozens of guards to keep the mob back while we were brought into the house one by one.
I had already soiled my clothes by the time it was my turn to enter the guard house. I remember hoping that it wouldn’t drop the price I would get for the minor enchanted garments. The guard pushed me thru the door and halted me in front of a large wooden table, behind which sat two older men with stuffy looking official garb. They ordered me to remove all items from my person, money and jewelry into a bowl on the table and all my clothing in a pile on the floor and to place any enchanted objects on the table next to the bowl.
It makes me laugh even now, remembering the look on their faces as I stripped and placed each article of clothing on the table next to the bowl. Standing there naked in front of two old men was quite humiliating, not to mention the cold draft made my balls want to climb up into my stomach even though I was cupping them to hide my nakedness.
“Where did you get these boy?” The man asks, a bit of anger in his tone.
“They are mine sir” I said in reply. “They are my work clothes, I wear them every day. I only have two such sets so they aren't laundered every day but the runes of protection should ensure that they have several more years in them I assure you…”
“Don't lie to me boy, there’s no way the likes of you would have clothing like this. Answer me thief, WHO did you steal these items?” he demanded pounding his fist on the table.
“Well I purchased the clothes from good tailor Alwen’s apprentice. The runes I added myself, I am Master Bertol's apprentice, why wouldn’t every piece of clothing I own be enchanted. All the jewelry in the bowl is enchanted as well. All items have a rune of minor protection on them, the clothing is protected from damage but the rings and amulets protect the wearer.”
With a grunt of annoyance the older gentleman at the table pointed to a corner. “Stand there”.
Standing in the corner didn't help cut the chill but at least I wasn't marched away without a copper to my name.
"Sargent!" the first man snapped.
"Go fetch Master Bertol, if this is his apprentice I'd imagine he is nearby."
Calling to another guard they ordered all my things to be placed on the ground and the next prisoner to be led into the room. I stood there while they processed 3 more individuals before the guard returned with Master Bertol in tow. He looked exhausted clutching a satchel to his chest, he must have not slept all night by the looks of his disheveled state. He tried to rush up to me but the guards grabbed him and made him wait by the door until the current man was processed. The man they were interviewing was handed a small purse with a few coppers in it and shoved towards the rear exit by the guard.
“Master Bertol I presume?” the man at the table spoke.
“Yes sir” Bertol said, bobbing his head.
“Was this your apprentice Master Bertol?” He asked pointing at me, still nude, and shivering, standing in the corner.
“Yes he is my apprentice” Bertol replied.
“Was.” the man corrected him. “The boy is now a condemned criminal. For the crime of umm…” the man shuffles papers around on his desk. “Ah, here it is. He is accused of assaulting a noble and was found guilty so, no sir he is no longer your apprentice.”
“I was hugged by the duke's daughter!” I cried out interrupting the man. “If there’s anyone guilty of assault it's the duke, his men beat me in an alley and the duke paid the guard there with MY coin purse.” I accuse pointing to the guard who had been my jailor over the last few days.
“Nonsense!” the second man said, scoffing at my accusations. “The duke is an honorable man of the city he would never stoop to such acts.”
“Enough!” the first man shouted.
”Master Bertol, please evaluate the items on the floor here and give us your best estimate on a fair market value, remember that falsifying fair value is a crime punishable by your own trip down death row.”
With a reluctant nod, master Bertol sighed and began going through all my items evaluating each piece, only glancing at me when he came to my wet pants and undergarments. Once finished, he pulled out a small pocket abacus and after doing some math announced.
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“42 silver and 3 coppers is what this would sell for in my shop as apprentice work.”
“Very good then” the old man said, here you are boy 21 silver.
After handing me the silver pouch I was ushered towards the door and had nearly been shoved thru when Master Bertol yelled
“Wait! By rights as an apprentice Runesman he is considered a mage and according to tradition mages are allowed to bring in the tools of their trade. I have Llond’s Satchel with his journal and scribe.”
“A mage is only allowed a single spell and their wand not their personal spellbook.” the man behind the desk said frowning at Master Bertol.
“Well that’s good then because Llond has only mastered a single spell, the rune of protection.” Master Bertol said gesturing to the pile of clothes on the floor beside him. “Also this scribe is a runesmans weapon, much like a wand or a staff is for a mage, it is also bound to him so is worthless to anyone other than him.”
“Let me see.” the man said reaching out for the satchel.
Master Bertol handed it over and the man raised his arm up ending the bag, dumping both my journal and silver scribe onto the table. After looking in to ensure there are no hidden pockets, he flipped through the first few pages of my book stopping to look intently at the pages of notes and my single mastered rune. Picking up the scribe he looked it over and after attempting to write with it dropped it in the sack and handed it with the book to a guard.
“Sargent!” he snapped. “What is the going rate of a sword and shield in the row?”
Thinking for a moment the guard replied, “It would be 15 silver for a sword, shield and sack similar to that one.”
“Very well.” the man said, holding out a hand and looking at me expectantly,. If you wish to take your satchel with you it will be 15 silver.
With a sigh I dug into my coin purse and after paying him, I was left with only 5 silvers. After draping the satchel over myself so that it's covering my nakedness I was shoved roughly towards the door.
I hear Master Bertol yell, “Llond do not forget to read your notes once your thru, with your knowledge you should be able to puzzle out how to use fire on stones in the dungeon.”
Any further aid was cut off as the door slammed shut behind me and I was guided towards the shouting merchants of death row. Stopping at the first booth they handed me a loincloth free of charge and I happily tied it on to further cover my nether regions from the gawking crowd.
I quickly bypassed the arms merchants, though I did stop and pay 2 silvers for a pair of sandals that fit snugly and laced all the way up the calf to just below the knee. From my memory of watching others going into the dungeon, they always have a hard time when running or fighting barefoot so I feel it's a good investment.
Next I picked up a water skin and a couple packets of travel rations. With food, drink and a sturdy pair of shoes I was officially broke and the guard hurried me past all the other vendors. The final vendor before the gate was the slave pens. Not truly pens really just a long chain between two columns with lines of beautiful naked people shackled along its length. With an auctioneer shouting while some of the more wealthy prisoners sat on benches bidding.
I was halted across from the slave pens while awaiting my turn to go through the gate. Watching the auctions I was surprised to see one prisoner buying up half of the people there. They were all amazingly beautiful, it's always been surprising to me that people would throw such beauty away in the dungeon simply for entertainment.
For some reason the masses enjoy watching attractive scantily clad people be butchered in the dungeon better than ugly or normal looking people. Every one of them, man and woman alike were statuesque in appearance like they were sculpted by an artist's hand to be the perfect combination of athleticism and beauty rolled into one.
The slaves for the most part are all bread for this, I've always felt sorry for them, they are mostly uneducated though they know the common tongue, any foreign prisoners who purchase them have to learn simple commands in our language. The slaves are bread and taught only to fight from birth. At the age of 18 they are sent to death row with only the most beautiful and skilled of each generation staying to be used as breeding stock for the next. It must be a truly horrible life but right at that moment, I wished I had the coin left to purchase even one of them. Any aid, even just company in death would be better than going in there alone.
Once the man was out of coin the slaver carried a silver bracelet, touching it to each of the newly purchased slaves collars. Once they were all bound the slaves were released to their new owner, the slaver handing the man his bracelet. After putting it on the man was marched over to the gate and once they clamped on his viewing collar they immediately sent the group through.
I was 5th after the rich prisoner with the horde of slaves to get sent through the gate. Once my turn came they clamped a tracking collar around my neck and I was led up the steps to stand on the dais in the center of the square. As I got to the top the announcer shouted.
"The Runesmans apprentice is number 8 today."
The central dais had deep runes etched into it and I tried to memorize as much of them as I could before they sent me through. I thought at the time that if I could learn how gates work perhaps I could create a gate out of here. It was wishful thinking, I know, but at that point in time why not aim for the top. Gate crafting is the pinnacle of runecraft and requires a minimum of a silver scribe in order to create the finely detailed runes used in it's construction.
As the light of the gates runes began to glow I saw the Duke across from me, his daughter standing at his side. The man had his hand wrapped firmly around his daughter's neck forcing her to watch as I was teleported away. She had tears in her eyes as she gazed up at me, the locket I had given her clasped between her hands. Glancing to the duke I could see a look of pure pleasure on his face and an urge to get back at him hit me. In an act of defiance, I looked towards the duke and smiled at Danalise, I blew her a kiss and then waved. My smile grew even wider at the look of pure rage coming from the duke.
I was distracted from goading the duke further by the platform I was standing on. Five points around me at the edges of the dais began to glow and a metallic liquid flowed out from each of them. Flowing out like water, it followed the carved paths of the runes. I could see mages chanting off to the side of each point, their outstretched hands aglow with a nimbus of energy as they powered the dais.
After reaching the center and forming a large intricate spell circle a cylinder of light shot up and the liquid metal began to pool at my feet. I hadn’t been paying attention when the last group was ported away I was so absorbed in taunting the duke. It was quite the shock when the rising liquid metal began to slosh around me like a pot of water at a rolling boil. There was a flash of blinding light and an instant of searing pain and then nothing.