- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Give-No-Fucks
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Action, Magic, Sci-fi
Rowan rubbed at her wrists, pouting in the warm light of the Warden's chambers. She expected to be treated harshly, but that didn't mean she couldn't moan and grumble about the cuts on her wrist from the lizard's boot pulling on the chain. The tiefling waited for a few moments after the initial lock of the door. Was the Warden stupid, or distracted?
No matter. Rowan didn't have time to think about that.
She easily slipped the iron shackles from her wrists for the second time and set them on her chair before moving behind the Warden's desk. There was plenty to look at, but what was the most important? Her lavender gaze first fell upon a stack of files in the middle of the desk. She thumbed through each one, the names all familiar to her. Rowan, Silph, and Reva. Rowan quickly scanned each one, noting that Reva's appeared to be less bulky, almost as if something had been removed. While Rowan's file was filled with derogatory judgements and crass letters, Reva's was simply... less than that. To the point. It wasn't something Rowan expected considering her alarmingly bipolar behavior. Silph's file was interesting. Her talk with the Warden was making a bit more sense. Perhaps the brute of a woman was innocent after all and they were plotting something. A cynical thought, but what was Rowan supposed to think? There were countless notes about Silph's skills, her supposed innocence, it almost looked as if she wasn't supposed to be in prison at all. Yet there she was. Strange.
Rowan began to pull open drawers at random. The first had a wine bottle in it, which she happily uncorked and took a long, necessary swig from. It was better than she had hoped. Even if the Warden noticed, what did she care? Rowan was already fucked.
One of the drawers was locked. Rowan skipped over it and began to comb through the bookshelf behind her. Some of the titles were familiar to her, bringing her back to her childhood studies. Others weren't as easy to recognize. There was nothing to be found and Rowan didn't have the time to leaf through any of them. She still didn't know when the Warden was supposed to return, or even just a guard.
So, she returned her search to the desk. There was a small stack of no importance, at least at first glance. One appeared to be a shipping list, which Rowan paused a few seconds to give a second read. It was coming soon. That could have been useful.
Rowan glanced up at the door. It had been too long. Far too long. She slipped back into her chair, and hunched forward.
No matter. Rowan didn't have time to think about that.
She easily slipped the iron shackles from her wrists for the second time and set them on her chair before moving behind the Warden's desk. There was plenty to look at, but what was the most important? Her lavender gaze first fell upon a stack of files in the middle of the desk. She thumbed through each one, the names all familiar to her. Rowan, Silph, and Reva. Rowan quickly scanned each one, noting that Reva's appeared to be less bulky, almost as if something had been removed. While Rowan's file was filled with derogatory judgements and crass letters, Reva's was simply... less than that. To the point. It wasn't something Rowan expected considering her alarmingly bipolar behavior. Silph's file was interesting. Her talk with the Warden was making a bit more sense. Perhaps the brute of a woman was innocent after all and they were plotting something. A cynical thought, but what was Rowan supposed to think? There were countless notes about Silph's skills, her supposed innocence, it almost looked as if she wasn't supposed to be in prison at all. Yet there she was. Strange.
Rowan began to pull open drawers at random. The first had a wine bottle in it, which she happily uncorked and took a long, necessary swig from. It was better than she had hoped. Even if the Warden noticed, what did she care? Rowan was already fucked.
One of the drawers was locked. Rowan skipped over it and began to comb through the bookshelf behind her. Some of the titles were familiar to her, bringing her back to her childhood studies. Others weren't as easy to recognize. There was nothing to be found and Rowan didn't have the time to leaf through any of them. She still didn't know when the Warden was supposed to return, or even just a guard.
So, she returned her search to the desk. There was a small stack of no importance, at least at first glance. One appeared to be a shipping list, which Rowan paused a few seconds to give a second read. It was coming soon. That could have been useful.
Rowan glanced up at the door. It had been too long. Far too long. She slipped back into her chair, and hunched forward.