Liberated

Weeks had turned to months and The Raven had lost hope of rescue. He had seen other prisoners come and go, but he had a strong feeling that those who left really "left." Those who remained included an old man who, after all this time, was able to keep his treasured possesions, a small girl that could've been no older than twelve, and a blonde-bearded dwarf that seemed to be a Longbeard.

They were fed very little, but Rimedur was used to that. He split his ration amongst his fellow prisoners, mostly with the old man and little girl (he and the dwarf agreed that they needed it the most). The foul dwarves treated them very poorly, especially the Longbeard. Every time one mocked Rimedur from the other side of the bars, he spat in their faces which earned him a nice beating. It didn't hurt as much though. He had endured worse.

A dark evening, a few shouts came from the warden's room. Several loud clangs echoed through the prison. Through the shadows, a man came forward, jangling a ring of keys. The old man and dwarf greeted the man like a brother as he opened the cell. Though the others left, Rimedur sat there thinking. Should he trust him? This new face seemed quite unsavory.

The man turned to him and Rimedur got a better look at him. He wore a long, red coat, his eyes were lined in black and he had a pointed mustache and beard to match his curly, long hair. He had metal studs in both ears and black glove on his left hand. "What's your name, boy?"

"Rimedur Calen."

"Well, Rimedur Calen, are you going to wait for the Dourhands to come and finish you or do you want to live," he asked. The man offered The Raven his ungloved hand which he reluctantly took. "James Hooke, at your service," he said with a grin.