The War of the Green Tides

NOREMACIA, 12/4/1520

Chelseá Kastara,
aged 19, Fierce soldier of the Queendom of Athena, captured by the enemy, the Queendom of Bassaliskinisha, has been transported to a cell in the city of Rán, far from the battlefront.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Coming to, Chelseá Kastara blurred eyes could faintly see light seeping through what felt like some fabric covering her eyes. She could feel her arms, tight behind her come free, although she was weak and let them fall beside her. She felt a sharp jab in the small of her back and she held her hands forward as she fell to the floor in front of her. Her arms, weak and dreary, gave way and she landed on her front with little to break her fall. She felt a tug at her hair as the sack covering her head was torn off. Then blinding light, blurry as her eyes adjusted to the little light of the dark lit room around her. It was a cell. Hearing a creaking and a mechanical sound she slowly turned her body to see a guard locking the heavy iron door behind her. She moved quickly and lunged at the door with all her strength, but it was already locked tight. The guard laughed and turned away, spinning the ring of keys on his index finger. She was on her feet now but slumped against the cell door. She watched with piercing eyes as he slowly strolled away. She spat some blood onto the floor just outside the cell door, gripping the bars as she centred herself. She could feel her strength returning to her hands as she thought to herself, ‘I wonder how long I was out’.

The last thing she remembers was being trampled by Hex’s cavalry in the town of Rougranda. The battle had been long and painful. She had seen several of her friends, her family, her liege all struck down at the hand of enemy. They were losing the battle when the enemy cavalry charged and confirmed the battle a loss. She remembers being tossed aside by a charging horse, before being buried in mud and bodies. She could feel the air escaping her lungs and slowly being crushed, unable to breathe. She thought she must have passed out, but been brought back alive. A prisoner.

To be frank, Chelseá was surprised she was still alive. She looked down at her body and touched her chest. Instantly she felt a searing pain wrap around her body. ‘I must have broken a rib. Or several.’ She thought. She hunched over to comfort the pain she had only just realised she had been inflicted and tuned to sit on a nearby hay bale. She must have been underground somewhere. The only source of light was a small grate in the top right hand corner of her cell, and a dying torch, flaming on the wall in the corridor outside her cell. She looked around and noticed sounds. Other people. Maybe in cells nearby. She crawled back to the cell door and pressed her face against it, feeling the cold, damp iron on her cheek, to see if she could see any further down the corridor. No luck. She sat on the floor and thought to herself who else might be down here, defeated, or unfortunate, to land themselves in the cells of this Bassaliskinishan dungeon.