Role

Chapter 2

Jail
Added Wed Jun 20 17:42:02 2012 at level 25:

The cell Hagmish was locked in was small, and very dark. It was so small and devoid of any contact from
the outer world, that even with his keen sense of sight in the dark, everything appeared to be shadows
up shadows. He couldnt remember how long he had been in the cell. Come to think of it, he couldnt
even remember how he got into the cell. What was the last thing he recalled? He wasnt sure. His mind
was a total blank.

Time passed on. Many months to be precise and Hagmish endured the dark with nothing but himself, or
lack thereof, to keep himself company. The only change in the darkness of his cell was the occasional
plate of slop that passed through the slit at the bottom of the door. It was a good thing that he was
duergar, else he would never have been able to stomach the awful garbage he was served. The food
didnt come in any regularity or quantity to keep him well nourished, either. As the days wore on,
Hagmish shed pounds until he was nothing more than an emasculated bag of skin and bones.

More months passed. Hagmish was certainly going to rot in these cells, as he had probably been
forgotten about since it was very unlikely the guards would match an owner to the coin purse. By now,
the solitary confinement and darkness had taken its toll on Hagmishs mental state of health. He was
losing his sanity. It began with Hagmish absently talking to himself. Then he began speaking to the
shadows as if they were personified. In fact, he spoke with them at such lengths and in such depth that
he certainly believed they were real and communicating back with him. In all actuality, he was probably
just plain mad, but, was it possible the shadows could actually be talking to him? These conversations
would last for hours on end, and usually he could hardly remember what he was speaking about just
moments before. That was until one day.