07-14-2016, 09:46 PM
The paladin remained silent as the vehicle pulled up to his new location.
At his previous prison, Argento had been forced to fight a variety of eldritch abominations. In almost every battle, he had been the unanimous underdog and fated to see his life brought to an end by some fel creature. Each and every occasion, Argento had disappointed the slobbering assortment of demons and devils cheering on his foes. By the end of the sixth fight, his jailors had taken to having him beaten and battered prior to combat, as if blood-letting would somehow weaken the paladin’s resolve.
The Sun doesn’t bleed. Blood means nothing.
By the end of the eleventh fight, Argento had been informed that he had been ‘sold’ to a much larger gladiatorial arena. While the paladin had hoped that the transfer process would have provided him with some opening to escape, his captors had been smart. They’d encased him in shackles and then sealed his body from the neck down into a metal sarcophagus.
“Welcome to Belial’s citadel.” One of his jailors sneered as the vehicle started to come to a stop. “You’ll be staying here for a few hours before they cart you off to the bloodworks.”
Argento offered the creature no words.
“Quiet? You’ll be screaming later, that’s for sure.” With a snicker, the demon threw open the back hatch of the vessel and gave Argento’s mobile prison a solid thump just a few inches from the paladin’s head. The emtombed man slid out of the craft and smacked the back of his skull against something hard, causing him to slip into darkness.
When he regained consciousness, Argento immediately noticed that he had been released from the metal sarcophagus and that the shackles had been removed from his body. In their place, he had been fitted with smaller manacles that anchored around a barbed circle clamped loosely around his neck. For the first time in a while, his feet were free, which meant he could stretch them and even walk a few steps once he got the blood circulating and the muscles warmed.
Once he could move around without stumbling on half-functional legs, Argento noted that he was in a small room that clearly wasn’t intended for him. The furniture was elegant, albeit in a twisted, unnatural manner that made it appear grotesque to the holy man. There was wallpaper and polished tiles on the floor and ceiling, and there was even a fruit bowl on an ebony end-table. Argento pondered eating one of the fruits for a brief moment, but then his better judgment won.
“Where am I?” The paladin questioned out loud as he walked over to the door. The knob didn’t turn when he tried it with his hand, and he was too sore to try and bash his way into whatever hells awaited him in the hallway or room adjacent to his new, lavish prison. Turning back away from the door, Argento spotted what seemed to be a pair of interior shutters. With the hope that some kind of window might be hidden behind them, the man made his way across the room and tried to open or slide away the two wooden panels. Much like the door, there was no budge to the shutters.
“Accursed prison.” Argento muttered as he turned away from the sealed window and wondered what the next move would be. While imprisoned in the previous arena, he’d managed to get the drop on his jailors on a few occasions. Much like his opponents, they always underestimated the might of the Sun, and after Argento slew four different jailors, they started to use poisoned vapors to dull his senses.
Before Argento could formulate a means to combat unseen threats, he heard the lock on the door click. The door slipped open and a young woman with red hair entered the room as the door was shut and locked behind her.
“Damn you, Sia.” The woman rasped before she realized that she wasn’t alone in the room. “Who are you?”
She didn’t appear to be a demon. For the most part, she looked like a human woman, but Argento had seen many devils that guised themselves as mortals. With nothing to defend himself, he’d have to stay on his toes if she lashed out with a concealed dagger.
For the moment, he would play the game. A paladin would never attack someone based on paranoia or guesses.
“I am Argento Camarinos,” he responded as he walked half of the distance between the two of them and extended a manacled hand to the woman. “Who are you?”
At his previous prison, Argento had been forced to fight a variety of eldritch abominations. In almost every battle, he had been the unanimous underdog and fated to see his life brought to an end by some fel creature. Each and every occasion, Argento had disappointed the slobbering assortment of demons and devils cheering on his foes. By the end of the sixth fight, his jailors had taken to having him beaten and battered prior to combat, as if blood-letting would somehow weaken the paladin’s resolve.
The Sun doesn’t bleed. Blood means nothing.
By the end of the eleventh fight, Argento had been informed that he had been ‘sold’ to a much larger gladiatorial arena. While the paladin had hoped that the transfer process would have provided him with some opening to escape, his captors had been smart. They’d encased him in shackles and then sealed his body from the neck down into a metal sarcophagus.
“Welcome to Belial’s citadel.” One of his jailors sneered as the vehicle started to come to a stop. “You’ll be staying here for a few hours before they cart you off to the bloodworks.”
Argento offered the creature no words.
“Quiet? You’ll be screaming later, that’s for sure.” With a snicker, the demon threw open the back hatch of the vessel and gave Argento’s mobile prison a solid thump just a few inches from the paladin’s head. The emtombed man slid out of the craft and smacked the back of his skull against something hard, causing him to slip into darkness.
When he regained consciousness, Argento immediately noticed that he had been released from the metal sarcophagus and that the shackles had been removed from his body. In their place, he had been fitted with smaller manacles that anchored around a barbed circle clamped loosely around his neck. For the first time in a while, his feet were free, which meant he could stretch them and even walk a few steps once he got the blood circulating and the muscles warmed.
Once he could move around without stumbling on half-functional legs, Argento noted that he was in a small room that clearly wasn’t intended for him. The furniture was elegant, albeit in a twisted, unnatural manner that made it appear grotesque to the holy man. There was wallpaper and polished tiles on the floor and ceiling, and there was even a fruit bowl on an ebony end-table. Argento pondered eating one of the fruits for a brief moment, but then his better judgment won.
“Where am I?” The paladin questioned out loud as he walked over to the door. The knob didn’t turn when he tried it with his hand, and he was too sore to try and bash his way into whatever hells awaited him in the hallway or room adjacent to his new, lavish prison. Turning back away from the door, Argento spotted what seemed to be a pair of interior shutters. With the hope that some kind of window might be hidden behind them, the man made his way across the room and tried to open or slide away the two wooden panels. Much like the door, there was no budge to the shutters.
“Accursed prison.” Argento muttered as he turned away from the sealed window and wondered what the next move would be. While imprisoned in the previous arena, he’d managed to get the drop on his jailors on a few occasions. Much like his opponents, they always underestimated the might of the Sun, and after Argento slew four different jailors, they started to use poisoned vapors to dull his senses.
Before Argento could formulate a means to combat unseen threats, he heard the lock on the door click. The door slipped open and a young woman with red hair entered the room as the door was shut and locked behind her.
“Damn you, Sia.” The woman rasped before she realized that she wasn’t alone in the room. “Who are you?”
She didn’t appear to be a demon. For the most part, she looked like a human woman, but Argento had seen many devils that guised themselves as mortals. With nothing to defend himself, he’d have to stay on his toes if she lashed out with a concealed dagger.
For the moment, he would play the game. A paladin would never attack someone based on paranoia or guesses.
“I am Argento Camarinos,” he responded as he walked half of the distance between the two of them and extended a manacled hand to the woman. “Who are you?”