“For fuck's sake…”

The words barely slipped through Reiker’s pursed lips as he was thrown into the corner of his small frozen jail cell. His tattered cloth robe, now the color of coagulated blood, was tied tightly around a mangled stump where his left arm should have been. The guards finally having enough of the inmate’s mouth decided he wouldn’t forget what it means to be a forgotten prisoner. Blood seeped like a viscus web through his tunicate, pooling into a scarlet mess under the man. Reiker had suffered at the hands of the mage guards before, the bandages on his face nearly fused to his skin were proof enough of that. Inmate or not, the guards of Capoa Torem were brutalizing bastards.

“That’s your last warning scum,” The burly prison guard who delivered Reiker to his cell said in an absolutely wretched tone. Spit flying from his freshly slashed jaw, a present Reiker gave him personally. “The next time you fuck up, I won’t leave you with a pulse.”

Earlier the anarchist had been found skulking around outside his cell, an act that the mage guards punished with swift and absolute justice. Even though he was unarmed and found in the latrine the guards didn't care. It was an excuse to have some fun, there was no order here, at least none the inmates could see. In the frozen wastes of Berevar there were many truths those who dare to call this land home live by, and the rats of Capoa Torem were no exception. The winds of the north bite harder than any man, It was far safer to live like a rat in a cage than to brave the frozen tundra. Reiker guessed that was their excuse to treat any of their prisoners like mange ridden mongrels, for they were the lesser of two evils.

Reiker peered over his hunch shoulder with bloodlust in his eyes, to the man, no to the monster who just stripped another layer of his humanity away. He would remember his face, from his broad nose to his widow's peak, the mage guard with a scarred jaw had signed his own death warrant. Through blood loss and gut-wrenching pain Reiker persevered, rising to his feet just as the prison guard slammed his cell door shut. No matter how long it might take, one-day Reiker would make him suffer. He glared daggers at his target, leaning through the frozen bars of his cell until he could see him no more.

Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer and let lose a billowing wale as he clutched his bloody stump, his scream echoed through the entire seventh wing of Capoa Torem. Again he cried as he fell to his knees, his muscles in spasm and Reiker unable to fight it. This was their justice, those who think they are better than us. It didn't matter what he had done to be sent here, Reiker was less than human to the mages. Movement and hushed whispers filled the empty air. Like scavengers rats the inmates of Capoa Torem’s seventh wing gathered, malnourished and hungry, emerging from their cells one by one.

“The Butcher is coming, Reiker, hold on for just a bit longer.” a familiar but unknown voice said through the frozen wall to his right. “It's almost time…” Though his vision was growing dark as he struggled to remain conscious, a determined stare overcame the face as he reminded himself of the plan. Their plan to escape this godforsaken prison and the future they want to create.