Tom-Pen
Mysterious Writer
Introduction
The life you lived was not so bad, it was a life of work, but work you enjoyed. You had gone to the citadel, taken a job at the cities finest butchery, and started on a path that would eventually lead to your financial stability, and inevitable rise in society. You were of middle class, but looked down on by only those of extreme wealth and royalty. The place you called home was small, but quaint, and your neighbors were kind (save for the local Lord and his daughter, who could be quite rude). All was well, and looked as though it could only get better... until they came.
The citadel was taken, many died, but you survived. It seemed fate had looked kindly on you, but in surviving you lost what freedom you had. You were seized, knocked unconscious, and carried away, to an unknown fate.
The start of your Journey
You awake in a cold, damp room lying face down on a wooden floor; the air about you smells strongly of mold and sea water (with a hint of piss). The room rocks and sways methodically making a creaking, moan like, sound. From above you can hear distant voices yelling, but the echo of heavy footsteps and whine of gusty wind makes it impossible to pick out any discernible words. There are no torches to light the room, however, your eyes adjust to the dimness granting you some visibility.
The room you are in is relatively small - though not altogether tiny - and of a rather unusual design. The walls are strangely curved, and the ceiling appears wider than the floor. Everything (save for a barred gate at one end) seems to be made of wood.
You have been stripped of your belongings and dressed in thin rag garments. They are faded, tan in color, and very uncomfortable.
You are not alone, there are several others - dressed in the same fashion as you - scattered about. Two young ,meek and taunt looking men - for instance - are whispering together at the far end of the room, away from the gate. In the middle of the room there are two more - one man, and one woman - though they don't appear to be together. The man looks to be middle aged and is both large and burly, with broad shoulders and big arms. He sits with his back against the wooden beam, his eyes are focused on the gate. The woman appears young, perhaps close to your own age, and quite scared. She is tall and fair, with soft features, but her eyes are hollowed, and her body is bruised. Just outside the gate, a tall man (armored in boiled leather and a metal half-helm) stands with his back to you. A short sword of unknown make hangs from his belt, sheathed in leather.
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