Re: City of Milath
Leering at the prisoner, the Chief Jailor laughs, a most unpleasant sound. Shaking his head he nods to Crow. He wipes his nose with a dirty hand and grins evilly.
"Oh aye, ye'll met her so you will. General Von Zinzer's orders. Of course, from what I hear tell of the Sultana and her...appetites' ye'll likely wish you hadn't..hehe. Now hury your carcass out of there. Wouldn't want to keep her Majesty waiting. Help encourage him lads."
Two burly guards enter the cell and put their hands warningly to their weapons. They lead Crow down the dingy hallway, other prisoners in their cells cackling, screaming, wailing, and begging behind them, arms reaching through the bars in vain hope of release. The Jailor and his guards mostly ignore them, except for the occasional smack with a club to outstretched limbs in their path.
Eventually they pass through the iron bound thick oak door and turn to the right, bringing Crow to a small area, barely large enough for one man. Gesturing for him to enter, removing his manacles carefully, they step back, closing the door after him. Inside on the flagtones is an old wooden bucket filled with soapy water and a rag hanging over the brim. The room is very dark, only the light from the corridor outside giving any visibility at all.
"Right, wash up then, you scabby cur. When ye're done bang on door and we'll bring you some clean clothes. That should be good enough for now. Then we'll take you to see the General."