Things would've been quiet when Vandelin fell asleep the night before, ensconced in what might as well be called the cooling tank below the tower: it's a sparse little room with a bed, a chamberpot, and no windows, soundproof and glyphed in its design to prevent mages from hurting others or themselves. It's not meant for anyone to stay there longer than a night at most, but it'll have felt like a little bit too long, with ambient sunlight from the upper floors seeping in under the heavy door.
There's a strangely moving shadow in that same bit of light, a large and clearly organic mass giving the occasional valiant struggle and then falling still, painting. The aggravated grunting that accompanies its movement identifies it as a man in some degree of distress, though clearly not enough to call out or seem to be in any explicit pain. Still, he is clearly, by the looks of the shadow, bound in some way.
A minute spent in this cell feels too long--not really because of any particular design or deprivation inherent in the cell itself, but just from the sheer indignity of it all. As if it's not galling enough to be restricted to the Circle but for periodic and now-canceled meetings of the Fraternities, he has to be reminded of the fact that even as a enchanter on the verge of promotion to senior, the Knight-Commander can still have him locked up like the town drunk on a mere whim.
(He will entertain absolutely no thought that he might have deserved it. 'Inciting sedition.' Pfffffff.)
As it turns out, whatever he had incited, he manages--nearly--to sleep through. The shouts of a battle wouldn't manage to wake him even were he on the same floor, but when he's buried underground in a dungeon, and the 'battle' is more of a confused every-which-way stampede, there's no chance. The thumps and grunts of the assault on his guard reach him only in his dreams, coming from spirit-studded scenery.
It's morning when he blinks awake and sees the wiggling lump on the floor, and it takes him longer still to recognize it as the templar who'd been guarding him last night. Vandelin would be chagrined to have missed whatever left that uptight bastard tied up on the floor, if he had any idea what had happened, but he's left now with only questions and a growing sense of unease.
Briefly ceasing his squirming, Ser Cade looks toward the door and remembers, to his horror, that there is still a person in there.
He pauses a moment, puzzling it out. He can reach the keys on his belt, and could probably maneuver them toward the lock-- he definitely needs another pair of hands to get himself untied-- but he's not sure he can trust a mage not to kill him at the moment, or to just leave, like the rest of them did.
Getting himself back up the stairs will prove challenging without the use of his legs, and if he doesn't do something, they'll both surely die down here.
"...be quiet," he finally says to the prisoner, with an urgency that betrays how close he is to taking the chance. Not that Vandelin could know that, nor should he, as far as Cade is concerned.
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slams in here
There's a strangely moving shadow in that same bit of light, a large and clearly organic mass giving the occasional valiant struggle and then falling still, painting. The aggravated grunting that accompanies its movement identifies it as a man in some degree of distress, though clearly not enough to call out or seem to be in any explicit pain. Still, he is clearly, by the looks of the shadow, bound in some way.
HI
(He will entertain absolutely no thought that he might have deserved it. 'Inciting sedition.' Pfffffff.)
As it turns out, whatever he had incited, he manages--nearly--to sleep through. The shouts of a battle wouldn't manage to wake him even were he on the same floor, but when he's buried underground in a dungeon, and the 'battle' is more of a confused every-which-way stampede, there's no chance. The thumps and grunts of the assault on his guard reach him only in his dreams, coming from spirit-studded scenery.
It's morning when he blinks awake and sees the wiggling lump on the floor, and it takes him longer still to recognize it as the templar who'd been guarding him last night. Vandelin would be chagrined to have missed whatever left that uptight bastard tied up on the floor, if he had any idea what had happened, but he's left now with only questions and a growing sense of unease.
"What happened to you?"
Re: HI
He pauses a moment, puzzling it out. He can reach the keys on his belt, and could probably maneuver them toward the lock-- he definitely needs another pair of hands to get himself untied-- but he's not sure he can trust a mage not to kill him at the moment, or to just leave, like the rest of them did.
Getting himself back up the stairs will prove challenging without the use of his legs, and if he doesn't do something, they'll both surely die down here.
"...be quiet," he finally says to the prisoner, with an urgency that betrays how close he is to taking the chance. Not that Vandelin could know that, nor should he, as far as Cade is concerned.