With the bloody knife he gestured, gliding down to point until it came to rest on the stomach-stabbed man, who had actually gained some face. Starr huffed, but took the two strides over to end that success. Swiftly, she drew a foot claw along his throat. It was a ragged, horrid cut, but it bit enough to make him choke on his own blood.
"Go down to the cells below," Vitruvion said, his voice not changing from a sickly, disgusted tone. His eyes went back to the collapsed man in front of him. "Bring me anyone you find there, and find me a set of those manacles you had on here. Something close anyway."
Stare blinked and opened her beak to reply, and Vitruvion shrugged. "I must stay incase this mage manages to come awake. Clearly ... Demonic power, yes?" He asked her. "Well then, we do not know the extent to which his power negates mine. So get me what you can. I will be in that pity of an office."
"Guards?" She asked quietly.
"Kill any more you find," the god nodded. Then he paused, raising an eyebrow as she stood still, and did not move yet. "Stare, we are in combat. Every single one of those instructions was an order. Now get to it before ... Well. Now." and he spat the last word, clearly annoyed. Definitely not in the mood, and a pressure began to press at her mind.
Swirling, Stare muttered beneath her breath, and bent briefly to hunt for and find a set of keys on one of the dead guards. It would likely help her. Then she began to head away. Keeping her head down she rapidly moved away from Vitruvion and the corpses, utterly despising it every time he used the term 'order'. It just reminded her that she was truly under him, and would never get away.
Locking her jaw she walked away, heading to the stairs that stood at the end of her corridor. Passing the store room at the end also, she gave it a heat-sight glance before finding no one, unless they were hiding, within. Not wanting to risk Vitruvion's impatience just in this moment of tension. Steadily she moved down the stairs, and it was clear as she did that all the people that they had killed were in fact all that were in here. Any more would have run up to greet them, with blades pointed at them.
Instead Stare found an empty tunnel before her, with one shut cell door and one broken one. Still not fixed. Ice filled her veins as she remembered this place and she recoiled, instantly feeling sick this her stomach.
Five days here. Bound, tightly and unyielding. Blinded with fabric and a chain across her eyes. Force fed, beaten, and at one point, she was not certain ...
Dragged from the cell and dumped, onto the stairs flat first. Unable to see and move she had but had her ears and sixth sense to let her know what was happening. Silence for a while, then a grunt as a man kicked her in the side, sending her sprawling. Then her hips were roughly grabbed, her legs parted and - and the honour of her body was taken not for the first time in her life. First Vitruvion himself, then what other asshole had been here. Stealing her right to her body and dignity from her with cruelty, no care, and spite.
She hoped the guard who did it was amongst her counted dead.
With a shaking hand she went to the first door and tried it, finding it locked. A very brief glance within revealed that there was, in fact, someone right inside. A small being, curled up tight in a corner, feeling very much like the person deep inside of Stare.
Looking across she saw that actually the other cell was occupied also, though the person was bound against the wall with manacles, hands high in the air. It was likely to keep them there because of the broken door. Stare's eyes flickered from one to the other. She saw both were rigid, panic clear on their faces in the dim light. It was likely that they could not see her. She also did not know if they had spoken to one another at all.
Slipping into the aura sight she saw that the first person in the locked cell was female. An elf, by all likely standards by her pointed ears just poking through long raven hair. At the age of forty she was young for an elf, and seemed to have good intentions for her aura was a soft lime green. She had some magic, but it was cut off apparently from use. Her chakras flowed with a strange intense golden hue, but nothing Stare had properly come across. Apparently though it served her no use here, for she had not escaped under her own will. Stare paused, before switching over the other man and saw the pounding black heart first. Telling her he was a dishonest man.
Her heart began to thump and she looked at him harder, and found his aura to be a defiant dirty brown. That pointed to a rebellious nature, but of good intent. He also was apparently human, and had a similar forty one years to his belt. His chakras did not thrum with any magic, however Stare was concerned deeply with that black heart. The edges were a soft white, and so there was some form of honesty, somewhere, but exactly what she could not say.
