Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20190210201424/@comment-5543592-20190211183724

Cade and Graicus entered.

The cell door creaked open, letting light pour onto its occupant. The man in question was huddled in the cell’s corner, hands and feet cuffed and connected by links of chain to the back wall of the cell. He was filthy, covered in grease, and grim, with matted dirty, dark hair, and a slim build that hadn’t lasted well under captivity. His cell was small, lacked any windows, and most days he was living in complete darkness except for thin beams of light shining out from under his door.

The captive curled up more as the light shown on him, and he shielded himself from it.

“Just kill me.” He rasped through chapped lips, his throat hoarse and parched.

“Your lucky day, scum.” The Imperial Captain standing in the doorway told him, his black cape and silver armour gleaming in the piercing light. “Your sentence has been commuted.”

“What?” The prisoner murmured, lowering his hands and squinting his eyes at the captain.

“Get that piece of filth out of there.” The captain stepped to the side, as two Imperial guards came marching into the cell, and began to uncuff the prisoner.

“Is this a joke?” The captive asked.

One of the guard’s paused in uncuffing him to punch the prisoner across the face. The captive collapsed, coughing and groaning.

“Shut up.”

“Only curious.” The prisoner muttered.

Once the man was released, he tried to stand up, but one of the guards immediately kneed him in the back, causing the captive to fall flat on his stomach.

“Wait.” The guard instructed. They produced two pairs of shackles, and cuffed his ankles and wrists. Thirdly, a collar was snapped around his neck, and added a leather belt with a ring on the front of it to his waist. Then, the collar, wrists shackles, and ankles shackles were connected by a chains that ran through the ring on the belt. If he tried to raise his head too far, move his arms, or shuffle his feet, he would fall flat on his face as the chain was pulled taunt.

“Not really into bondage.” The prisoner remarked, and then let out a grunt of pain as he got a kick in the stomach for speaking.

“I said shut up.” The guard told him firmly.

They seized him by the shoulders, and carried him out of the cell between the two of them, legs dragging on the floor behind him. They were in the dungeon hallway now, and the captain fell into step behind the guards as the prison was hauled through the dungeon, past other cells that had no opening in them and saw no daylight other than a slot sliding open in the bottom of the door for meals to be tossed in twice a day. They passed through the first security door, where more guards stood at attention, then a second, finally through a third. Then they were in the cellar, the dungeon behind them. Windows brought in light from up high, freeing the soldiers and prisoner from the harsh yellow torchlight of the dungeon.

“Pleasant.” The prisoner noted.

“One more word and we kick your fucking teeth in.” A guard hissed in his ear.

Through the cellar they took him, up into the garrison house. They dragged the prisoner into a side room sporting a heavy wooden door with a barred window looking in. A table and two chairs were in it, one situated across from the other.

They threw the prisoner into the far one, shackled him to the table, and left him.

“Hey!” He shouted out after them. “Where’re you going?”

The door slammed shut. The dead bolt was thrown.

Light streamed in through a window behind the prisoner’s head. He winced. He had been in the dark for so long it hurt his eyes. There was one corner of the room the light didn’t reach, shadowed as if by design.

“Child of man.” A voice spoke from it and Kismet jumped, more in shock at having not noticed whoever was back there. It had been a long, long time since someone had surprised him like that. Not even Silas could sneak by him anymore.

“Gave me a fright.” Kismet said, playing it off as cool, but he began inspecting the cuffs to see if he could break free. “Didn’t see you there.”

“You would not have.” The voice said. Kismet could see the shape of someone, there in the shadows. A tall man, widely built. “You could not have.”

“Alright…” Kismet wasn’t sure how to reply to that. “You get me out of that cell?”

“Yes.”

“What for? You want someone dead?”

“Yes.”

“Came to the right guy then. We’re going to make some kind of arrangement?”

“A bargain.” The man in the shadows said. “You will owe me for freeing you. You will do as I request.”

“I operate on a by-pay basis.” Kismet said, sitting back, shackles clanking. “Breaking me out of here isn’t anything I couldn’t do on my own, given enough time. If you don’t like that, have them put me back in.”

The shadows were quiet. For a second or two Kismet thought the man had left somehow.

“I will provide you what you desire. A sum of gold, for your service to me.”

"It's a business agreement." Kismet said. "Not service.  I don't work for people, I work with them."

"My words remain unchanged.  You will do as I request.  That will be the nature of our bargain."

It was very obvious by this point that whatever was speaking to Kismet wasn’t human. He wasn’t ignorant. But he had made deals with Daedra before. This was nothing new to him.

“Fine, then we have an agreement.” Kismet grinned, sticking his arms behind his head. The chains snapped tight, but he had just enough length to do so. “Who am I after? I’ll need name, appearance, last known address. The usual.”

“There is a Redguard man, who calls himself Daireg. He is traveling with a group of individuals. You will be paid most for his death, additional sums for the others, but only the Redguard need be destroyed. They are located in Argonia, but will be moving to Cyrodiil shortly. I will provide you further information, should this change.”

Kismet nodded as he followed along with the Daedra’s words. “Doesn’t sound too difficult. I’ve done similar stuff before.”

“You will complete the task as quickly as possible.”

“Sure.” Kismet shrugged. “Anything else, least until I get out of here?”

“No. You will await another meeting with me, soon.”

“Alright, then.” Kismet said. “Got something I should call you?”

There was no response. Kismet leaned forward, eyes narrowed in disbelief. The shadows were empty. He almost wondered if he had imagined it.

The guards came in several moments later and undid his shackles. Kismet held in his laughter as the very same men that had locked him away returned his gear and weapons.

“Orders come down from a higher power?” Kismet joked to the guard that pulled the door open for him. His response was glare.

He strutted out into the light a free man, a shrill whistle rising from his lips.