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The city of Tylass. A busy trade city ripe with merchants, exotic cultures... and thieves. But all of this is what lies above the ground. Yes, even the thieves of this place keep themselves within the reach of the sun's light.
But the unspoken secret of this city is what lies beneath. A single, guarded door leads into massive caverns digging deep under Tylass. It is into that dungeon that people are taken to disappear and where they might never be seen again. It is said that no prisoner has ever escaped from that dark maw. While that isn't exactly true, it isn't far off, either.
This story begins with one man's imprisonment. It begins as he is dragged into that dungeon, screaming at those taking him down and sporting an arrow lodged in the back of his right shoulder. "You must listen to me," he cried as he struggled against the guards pulling him into the depths and blood pouring down his back. "He's going to ruin this city! He's letting those damned conqueror's sink their teeth into us!"
"Shut it, elf," said one of the men dragging him, giving a jerk of his right arm and causing a cry of pain due to the arrow. "You're lucky you didn't end up down here a long time ago. If you hadn't made friends in high places so long ago... Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. You went and showed your true colors eventually." Even though the guard's face couldn't be seen from behind, his disdain was obvious.
Indeed, the one being dragged down to his new home within the dungeon was, in fact, an elf, his long, pointed ears sticking out from beneath his flowing, brown hair. but unlike the barbaric raiders that had plagued the lands for so many centuries and defined the species, this one wore the garb of an aristocrat. His shirt was even frilled and of the purest white, stained only by his own blood.
But even knowing of the distaste these men had for him, he had to try and stop the madman that was now leading the city they'd grown up in toward a terrible fat of subservience. "I tell you, it wasn't me! That bastard is trying to hide his intentions, but he'll show you soon enough! He'll cast you all by the wayside if you don't fall in line with his new friends! I was the best of his friends, and look what he's done to me!" He continued to struggle, despite the pain in his shoulder, even as they stopped and heard the creaking of iron behind him.
"I said shut it!" the guard gried as he and his partner tossed the elf into his dark cell. He landed poorly on his shoulder, breaking off the tail of the arrow, but driving the ehad all the way through, tenting the front corner of his shirt. He screamed and writhed in agony as the guards just laughed. "Ha! Serves you right. Maybe now you'll shut up about your loony conspiracy."
The bars of the cell closed with a heavy clang and the guards went off, continuing to laugh at the elf's torment. Meanwhile, he tried to cradle his near useless arm. He didn't dare move too far, much less get up from the stony ground. For now, he would be content to weep at his pain and his misery over how far his life had fallen in so short a time. For a moment, he was glad to be alone with no one around to see him like this.
Unfortunately for him and his ego, he wasn't alone. Hidden in the darkness of the shadows across the cell, someone was watching him. For a few minutes, the figure looked on, unsure of how they should react. Finally, a feminine voice spoke. "D-... Do you need some help?"
At first, the elf was startled to find someone was in the cell with him. He calmed slightly, thinking that company might be good for him, after all. Even better that it was the company of a woman. He strained to look up and try to see whoever it was, but stopped when it pained his shoulder more. Breathing raggedly, he just stared up at the craggy ceiling. "Any help you could offer would be appreciated," he began, unable to hide signs of his pain and weeping from his voice. "But I c-... can't bring myself to move. You'll ave to come closer. Let me see your face, milady." He smiled weakly, finding some comfort through the pain.
"As you wish," the woman said after a moment's hesitation as she began to move forward. The elf could hear the pads of her feet connect with the stone of the ground with each step, indicating that she was barefoot. But those padding sounds stopped abruptly as she got close enough to look down at his face. "You?!"
Confused, the elf twisted his neck to try and look at his fellow captive. When he did, he gasped in shock.
The woman before him was a troll, with dark green skin, sunken marks around her red eyes, and blood red hair falling past her shoulders. She wore a crude wollen robe of an almost brownish-pink color. It opened to show a few more form-fitting leather pieces covering her chest, waist and legs. Her hands had two fingers and a thumb, each, and seemed to almost end in claws. Though he couldn't see them, he knew her bare feet ended in two large toes.
He knew because he'd seen her the day before in the outside world... and he had not been kind. "By the gods..."