17th of Winter, 513 AV
The slaves were a ramshackle lot, dragged and beat from their homes and having lasted through a voyage across the sea only to arrive upon an island where an unnatural silence seemed to rule. The group of ten were led in a gaggle through the Citadel, their wrists and ankles bound in heavy chains and following in the wake of a haggard looking Nuit apprentice. The undead man would not talk to them, paying them as much mind as a Shepard might to a flock of sheep. The light of Leth peeked through the sky light of the Courtyard, which was filled with various crypts and graves and flickering shadows that would play the corner of their vision. Whispered words of regret would silently cry out to the slaves, who were continued to be led by the Nuit who seemed unperturbed.
They were led through this eerie domain and into the mouth of an imposing building; each of the slaves would feel a tugging sensation as they passed the threshold into this new domain. Like this was a place where they were not wanted and didn’t belong, more than likely that was not what was latched onto when entering this place. The Sahovan Dungeons were filled with the sounds of soft moans and distant screams of pain, prisoners reaching through the bars of their cells crying out for merciful quick deaths to avoid the torments to come. The slaves were not stopped here, but rather were continued on their path to a long passageway that led downwards.
The screams and moans would fade as the darkness of the Caverns took over, illuminated only by the soft glow of the magelights. Glowing arrows led to various domains but as they were led they would find themselves led down the path where the arrows glowed the brightest. To any denizen on Sahova what lay at the end of those arrows was danger in its most primal of forms. To the slaves they would be left only to wonder what horrific fate awaited them at the end of this journey.
Finally the procession came to a halt at a single seemingly simple door of iron. The letters on it were simple and engraved into the door, reading ‘Lab 7-M’ and otherwise appeared isolated from other doors in the Caverns. The Nuit pushed upon the door lightly and it opened effortlessly, the slaves being led inside quickly and with a bit of flaming res being sent their way to urge their haste onwards. The scene within, could only be described as chaos incarnate.
Men and women, living and dead moved about the massive cavern in squads of three with each seeming to try their hardest to murder the others. Fire met water, ice shards flew about with wanton abandon and lightning crackled through the air as the battle unfolded. Near the far end of the Sanctum opposite the door was a large wall of flickering purple flame, a silhouetted figured seated beyond them and watching the whole display.
A shard of ice caught one of the slaves in the throat and he fell to the ground, gurgling in an expanding pool of his own blood. It was then that a single command echoed through the cavern, its tone feminine but bearing an edge of authority that could not be refused. It came from the direction of the wall of flames, no doubt from the figure sitting beyond.
“Enough.”
With this single simple word all fight ceased immediately, and the combatants all backed away from the center of the cavern, some bearing fresh wounds but not daring to voice their suffering. A couple of charred corpses lay on the floor, those who had not survived the melee of the elements. Scorch marks adorned the ground, evidence of the magical might displayed not mere ticks ago that was ended by a single spoken work.
The figure beyond the wall of flames stood and advanced, the purple flames dying down with her advance towards the center of the cavern. A tall woman strode forth, adorned in the red robes of a master and her feet held in fine leather sandals with her hair bound tightly up in a high ponytail and held in place by a jeweled head piece. Arcane symbols twisted down her hands and fingers, on her right ring finger was a ring that appeared to have been wrought from pure obsidian. Grey eyes were upon the collection of now nine slaves, a cruel smirk playing at her lips.
Annalisa Marin looked at these wretched creatures with some amusement and halted in the center of the cavern, placing her hands in her sleeves regally. Quite the pitiful sight they were, weaklings the lot of them no doubt though Anna new that they wouldn’t need to live very long. They just needed to last long enough for her tests, such was the way of Sahova where even lives were reduced to being mere resources and nowhere else was that more true than Mistress Annalisa Marin’s domain.
“Well now, more toys to amuse myself with, isn’t that just splendid. Welcome to the Elements Sanctum you lot, to your final destination in this life before Dira takes you into her embrace. I am Annalisa Marin, but you’ll be addressing me as Mistress if I allow you the privilege of speaking.” Anna said, a few chuckles rising from the chests of her more seasoned apprentices. It was the same speech she gave every time.
She nodded to the Nuit apprentice and the nine slaves were brought forward, arranged in a neat row for Anna to look at and inspect. One never knew when something unique might have entered into the Element Sanctum and she was ever the weak one for unique things, especially if they were pretty in her eyes. She started slowly pacing down the row, looking at every man and woman with great scrutiny.
