Katherine
Loralie Douze
Outside of the Prison

A pair of vibrant green eyes peeked out from the edge of the prison wall, watching as two men climbed out of the carriage. One was an old man with a cane, and the other was a younger man. She only saw them for a few brief moments and then they were surrounded by men and escorted into the building.

*'So that's him?'* She thought in disbelief as she leaned her head out further, her hand resting on the bricks. She tried to process the glimpse she had gotten, but it wasn't enough. She needed to be closer. She wanted to talk to him.

The girl looked down at the torn piece of paper she had stolen. A name was scrawled in it in black ink. She felt a wave of fear strike her as the carriage began to pull away. Now that he was so close, she couldn't bring herself to run away. She had to be brave. Her entire life had led up to her finding him. 

Smoothing her grey dress down, she stepped lightly in her brown heeled boots, pressing her head against the cold bricks. She stayed a good distance away, and made sure to try to hide behind trees or other such things as she moved around the building. She was worried the guardsmen would make her leave. Her eyes and thoughts never strayed from beyond the carriage. 

A small part of her hoped they would notice her, and talk to her. She just prayed she wasn't sent away. She was so tired from walking so far. And she was hungry. She hoped she still looked pretty, despite what the winds and the travel had done on her appearance.

As if on cue, her stomach growled. She sighed before forcing her exhaustion out of her mind as she had been doing for days prior. Now was not the time to feel tired. Not when she was so close.

She sat down on the cold hard ground, giving a small scritch to the small brown and black griff on her shoulder as she waited for them to exit.
Melanie
John De Burgh
Burgh

 **" Stop!"**

 The Wolfmen were screaming in anguish, uselessly attempting to wrestle away from the grasps of John's soldiers. John's command echoed through the dungeon multiple times over. It would come as a shock that any man of his age and stature could produce a sound of such magnitude. Many soldiers had their blades positioned mere inches from their captives' faces, glaring upon them with looks unbefitting of a human person. It was evident that the identities of the men under John's command had disintegrated; they were now merely arbiters of a cause, consumed by obedience and nothing else. A dead silence followed as John turned his gaze to Levi. His passion for subjecting these men to the cruelest indignities had yet to leave him, so his glare to Levi appeared enraged. Although when he spoke, John immediately abandoned his cruelty.

 "These men, they killed your Roryk. They've raped, killed, and forced my people to endure a plague. Thousands perished. And you would suggest I allow them to live the rest of their lives in comfortable slavery?" He spoke calmly but articulated his displeasure unmistakably. For a moment, John caught the glimpses of anguished Wolfmen, whose eyes brimmed bright red with tears. Sighing audibly, John afforded Levi the respect of a compromise.

"Your leader killed this man's closest friend," John said to the prisoners, pointing his bloodied blade at Levi. "And now he is offering you his mercy." He paced around, eyeing his men. "Take them back to their cells." He said. "They will accompany us on the road. Drag them along by their throats, spare them no dignities. They will work to earn their retribution, and if they prove ineffective or even slightly insubordinate, slaughter them like the dogs they are." John curtly nodded at Dagmar, who assembled the men. Audible groans filled the dungeon as disappointed soldiers were deprived of their daily hunt. John owed Levi this, at the very least. Once they were returned to their cells, many prisoners wept in shock. One rubbed at his eyes, in disbelief that they were still rightfully in their sockets. John aimed to leave and swiftly led his men to the exit. Before they reached the base of the stairs, John turned to the dungeon masters. "By the Gods, feed them some jerky. Of what use will a cohort of walking skeletons be to me?"
Carol
Levi Cortez
Northwind

Levi shook his head as he looked out at the group of men before him. Many were strong, capable warriors. John may be upset but there was potential in these men. He just needed time to convince John of this fact. He carefully considered his next words before opening his mouth to speak. 

"Mercy isn't what I offer you all. I am offering you a chance of a lifetime. A brief escape, an offer not held for long. You have but a moment to decide. But know that this decision will have consequences to last a lifetime." He said, before looking at John. 

"De Burgh wishes to turn you all into workers, common men who will no doubt suffer endlessly until death at the hands of cruel masters who drive you day and night. I offer you a chance to fight, continue tasting blood on cold steel. Though instead of fighting against me, you would be fighting for me. However, if you do choose to serve with me, know that you must obey my every command." He said, looking over the group present. 

Eyes peered up, wondering what Levi was going on about. He pulled the hood down off of his face and made eye contact with those around him. All that greeted him was sorrow, anguish, and fear. Though, a few men began to stand up. 

"My offer stands for exactly one minute. After that, I'm walking out of this room and never returning to help any of you." He said, before beginning to count aloud. 

Only a few of the men stood up. Levi counted around 12, but still, it was a few. He shrugged before turning to a guard. 

"Have them escorted with the others and delivered to my camp. Direct them to Frederick Alwert." He said, before turning to John and handing him a few gold pieces. 

"They are worth more to me with me than in your fields." He said, before exiting the dungeon and leaving John in the darkness.