Please, please! Just let me open a small portal! Let it work!
But she felt nothing.
There was no surge of power from within, no welling up of confidence or determination. Nothing to show her that there was any personal will inside to draw on. She was an empty dry well of... nothing but smoky darkness.
She leaned forward, pushing outward with her hands. “OPEN!” She commanded, pushing,“OPEN!”
She lost her balance and fell to her knees on the cold stone floor. The smoke filled her as she heaved her breathing. She coughed, hard.
Antonerri moved to the bars between their cells and stood, resting his arms on the crossbars. “Powers won’t work here in the dungeons of the towers.” He muttered. “I’ve tried.”
“Why not? Why can’t I do it?”
“It’s not you, it’s the incense they’re burning. It’s called mage’s bane. It suppresses your mood and your will.” She looked at him, confused. She glanced over at the smoldering bowl dimly lit on the table beyond the cells, then turned back to Antonneri. From this distance she could see him a little better than before. He was tall, and his shadowed face was hidden further by a few day’s beard stubble. He was wearing a white tunic, with the three-starred emblem of the Church on his left shoulder. “If you’ve never breathed it before, it’s probably effecting you more. That’s probably why you haven’t wanted your gruel.” He gestured by her cell door, to the half-empty bowl.
She hadn’t noticed it before. Suddenly, her empty aching stomach overtook her and she crawled over to it. It looked horrendous in the dark and smog, and there was no spoon. She picked it up and smelled it, then used her two fingers to scoop a little into her mouth.
It was bland, but not the worst thing she’d ever eaten. She took a second mouthful, then another.
She paused to ask, “So, will we ever leave? Will there be a tribunal?”
“Maybe.” He leaned his head against the bars. “A Sacerdotis Confessoris - a confessor priest - will come in and read you your charges.”
DeFrantis noticed a darker tone to his voice. “What happens then?” She asked, trying not to show her fear.
“That depends on how you answer them. If you confess your sins and beg for repentance and redemption, your punishment may be light, and your freedom quick.” His tone was sharp, almost sarcastic. He turned and walked back into the darkness of his cell. She heard him sit down.
“Aren’t you part of the Church? They should let you go! Your tunic has...” After a moment’s hesitation, she ventured, in a hush, “I’m guessing that you haven’t properly asked for forgiveness, yet, have you?”
He let out a sigh. “It would help if I understood my sins.”
The sorrow in his voice weighed heavily on her like the dark gloom of the cell. She sat back with her gruel. It must just be the incense, right?
<<<>>>
This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing.
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