The clang of metal on metal rang in Landoff's ears as the guards at the door shifted their halberds, opening the way with ceremonial stiffness. Two of them stepped inside ahead of him, barking curt commands at the figure within.
"On the floor—face down. Now."
The hunched man in the shadowed corner obeyed slowly, lowering himself with creaking limbs, his worn cloak spreading like a tattered shroud around him. The guards approached with practiced caution, roughly patting him down, checking for hidden blades or poisons. Only after confirming he was unarmed did they step back and nod for the lord to enter.
Landoff crossed the thresholdvand immediately wrinkled his nose.
The room was a squalid pit, a cell in all but name. The walls, once painted with imperial sigils, were now cracked and flaking, overtaken by mildew and the slow rot of neglect.
