With a groggy groan, Aveza woke up and the first thing she noticed was the smell. Something of a cross between moldy rot and a horde of nugs in a rut. She also felt the damp rocks under her through the tattered thin clothing that hung limply from her bony frame. At her extremities she perceived the chill of iron and the rustling of chain as she shifted slightly confirmed the presence of manacles. Next she attempted her eyes and was greeted with waves of pain which brought back the dull pain nestled in the back of her mind to the forefront. One eye, the left one, was swelled shut, but the right one seemed to work well enough; of course she couldn’t see much to begin with in the drab darkness of the jail cell. Standing up elicited another groan of protest from her body and she grinned as she remembered the events that had brought her here, or at least that had caused the bruises and injuries. She had taken on three armored guards, while unarmed and unarmored, and of what she recalled, she had been giving a fairly good account of herself until a fourth guard had arrived. The following moments had been hectic and painful, mostly painful.
Dull footsteps brought her back to reality and her good eye spied a faint light cutting through the dark and growing in intensity. Each step ringed in her throbbing head, but she made the effort of moving as far her bonds allowed her. Perhaps someone in the audience hall hadn’t had enough and was coming back for more. She grinned once more; if so she would be happy to oblige.