(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Chapter 98
"So it's a prison?"
Annah's tail flicked in annoyance, "'s what I just said, innit?"
"How big is it?"
"Real big."
"Looks like 'twas used as a mine long ago," Annah continued, "All th' tunnels
'ave these rails an' rusted carts. Old tools jus' gatherin' dust now."
"Oh Powers above, not the Curst prison, chief," Morte shook his head, "The
city is on the edge of Carceri... once they put 'em in this hole they sure as
hell do everything they can to keep them here."
"How many guards, Annah?"
"Enough ta paint yeh red from eyes t' arse ten times o'er, I'd say," she
scoffed, "Unless yeh have somethin' new in yer bag o' tricks."
"You know, I might just have that."
Annah explained the layout. The entire complex was just a pair of long
tunnels flanked with small alcoves dug out by miners long ago. It was there
that the dozens of guards squirreled themselves. A barred-off branch lay off
to the far north, but the entrance to the prison proper arced to the west. If
we were going to start somewhere, we might as well storm the prison.
It was almost insulting how easy it was. Once you claw your way through the
black-barbed maze of an ancient night hag, flesh and steel are as much a
barrier as a screen of beads.
Just brush 'em aside.
Men fell to spell and blade. Limb flew apart in wet bursts and scraps of
armor scattered along the stone floor like fallen leaves. Mentally I screened
out the screams, the blood, the waste. Few were innocent in Curst, and I
was glad for that. It saved me the trouble of having to sift through the
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