Rhydian;
The dungeon reeks of rust, damp stone… and death.
Queen Cassia hates using this place. She avoids sending offenders here, and by how dilapidated it looks, I can tell that, unlike the dungeons back at Howleroot, these are rarely used.
Another testament to Queen Cassia's gentle rulership and kindness. Another testament of how different I am from this place at my core.
She refused to come down here. And I don't blame her. To be honest, I don't need her, or any of them, down here for the thing I intend to do.
If I had my way, I would send Igma away, too. But she insisted on being present despite my warnings.
This place reminds me too much of what men become when they stop seeing others as people.
And right now? I'm dangerously close to that edge myself.
For this one creature, I do not see a person. I see a curse. An inconvenient object that I will snurf out today by the moon goddess's blessings.
At the end of the corridor sits the only occupied cell in the dungeon.
