<i>Pain</i>.<br/><br/>As Kestrel slowly came to consciousness, the first thing that caught her attention was the pain; a pounding in her head like that of a thousand war drums thumping out a slow but agonising rhythm. Her nose felt broken and she could taste the coppery tang of the blood that had run down the back of her throat while she was knocked insensate, probably sitting in her stomach or perhaps lungs now. Overall, it hadn’t been the best of days.<br/><br/><i>Guess it’s time to rise and shine.</i><br/><br/>Kestrel’s hand found the rough surface below and she forced her eyes open to see the bloodstained dirt below, her arm still seemingly releasing a steady flow of deep crimson liquid to be soaked up by the hungry soil, maybe it could grow something pretty. Prettier than the likely sorry state of her face at the moment. Wouldn’t be particularly hard.<br/>She braced herself as she began to push herself up into a sitting position. Every agonisingly slow movement caused her vision to swim and waves of nausea wracked her body. She squeezed her eyes shut as the sounds of moans and sobs filtered their way into her slowly returning consciousness. Kestrel quietly noted to herself that she probably wouldn’t like what she’d see when she looked up. She was right.<br/><br/>As she leaned back against the pole behind her, she saw the internment camp spread out before her. There stood a forest of wooden poles, some with battered and bruised Eastborne residents shackled to them, others waiting in anticipation for another unfortunate soul to be captured and detained. She also noticed each pole had a different combination of letters and numbers painted on top in bright yellow and regarded them with a keen interest. Empire soldiers milled around the area, which appeared to have been some kind of market, some stole quick glances at Kestrel, others openly glared at her in disgust. A few were walking around in the same blue-starred robes as the mage she had encountered earlier, each carrying a strange blue-orb topped staff.<br/><br/>Kestrel’s legs were aching, and she tried to extend her them out in front of her, but she felt metal bite into her skin as the shackles around ankles prevented any significant movement, forcing her to sit with her legs folded awkwardly underneath her. Glancing down at the shackles, she began to curse heavily, her words muffled by the gag in her mouth. Her long fingers fumbled with the fabric before managing to loosen it enough to spit out, though her words were not much clearer, her voice affected by a heavy dialect and guttural fiendish tones that were thickened by anger.<br/><br/>“You milk-drinking, bastard sons of syphilis-ridden wenches, what I wouldn’t give to watch you all keelhauled under my boat. You soft-cocked strumpets, I’ll-”<br/><br/>Her tirade was interrupted by a violent coughing fit, as she sprayed the blood that had settled in her lungs from the broken nose all over the ground.<br/><br/>“Fuck!” she growled as her lungs burned and head pounded even harder.<br/><br/>Kestrel threw herself back against the pole, exhausted, dragging in rasping breaths as she blearily watched the soldiers bringing in another civilian. This one was a middle-aged man, sobbing and defeated. Kestrel could have sworn he looked familiar, but instead of having a closer look, she glanced away and shook her hair out, catching sight of a bowl of water nearby, as well as another captive. She turned towards the young woman who was seemingly shackled to the same pole. The woman was smaller than Kestrel and her dirty-blonde hair reached down to the middle of her back.<br/><br/>“Hey, pole buddy, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate some of that water right about now.” Kestrel jutted her chin towards the bowl, snarling as another bolt of pain shot through her skull.<br/><br/>“I’d also ask if you had anything for this gaping wound I have on my arm, but I think that’s pretty low in the list of things that may kill me at the moment.” Kestrel quipped, running her tongue along each of her bloodied teeth as she awaited her response, taking extra care around each sharp fang as she checked for any missing teeth.