After the incident upon the surface, the atmosphere amongst the slaves below had changed dramatically over the past few days. Any hope, any vague sign of strength had been quickly extinguished in all of us, myself included. I began to dream of Mordevin, the dark-skinned Easterling who had tortured me all those years ago. Not since then had I ever felt so defeated and helpless. On that accursed day when I was set loose upon the world a broken man, I swore that I would never allow myself to fall into such a position again. I began to believe that this was my punishment, for all the pain and suffering I brought upon others in my life. Perhaps I had forged my own fate and dragged Milawyn down with me.
The White Hand had many advisors, some of which were men from distant lands who would view the pits and marvel at the magnificent creations born beneath the earth. On this one particular day a man who they simply called Sharp-Talon came to the centre to witness the forgery. I continued to hammer my steel and tried to pay as little attention as possible to avoid a flogging, I was caught by surprise however as Fásh seized me by the shoulder, digging his nails into my flesh as he dragged me over towards the advisor. He was quite a large man, broad in the shoulders wearing a long black robe which concealed his shape leaving only his pale face and bright green eyes on display. I dared not look him in the eye that much I knew. I did however catch a glimpse of a sharp nod in which I was pulled away from the forgery and taken to a lower section of the pits.
As I was pushed down into the darkness I thought I was walking to my death, I had expected it. I wondered how long it would have taken Milawyn before she had broken and told them the truth behind the dagger. I did not blame her for betraying me; she had already suffered the brunt of my mistake while I only received a burnt hand. I flexed my fingers as I recalled the memory, feeling the rough and jagged skin upon my palm brush against my fingertips as I remembered her piercing scream which even then set the hairs upon my neck on end. I forgave her in my mind; it is only fitting that I should be the one to die for this, though perhaps she would have preferred death.
As I was urged around a dark bend I could see the glimmer torchlight in the distance. The tunnel was small and narrow, the sound of shouting and cheering echoing down it throwing me into a state of bewilderment. Fásh only laughed as I looked over my shoulder as if expecting an explanation, I only recieved a strike across the head in response. As I entered the main area I knew exactly what was prepared for me. Uruks stood in a large circle cheering and roaring as screams from the centre bounced off the walls. I saw the advisor standing upon a wooden scaffold, his arms folded as he stared down into the ring. It was then I knew that I had to fight for my life.
