In a dark, torch-light hallway, a gentle clink and clank of metal jingling rings out. Sure and heavy steps accompany the sound and dull thuds of wood on stone intermittently join the simple symphony.

Slowly and eventually the sounds grew closer and closer, until falling silent upon the last door, the last cell in the prison.

Within the room was only a small hole for air flow, and the inner-most half of it was covered in shadow. The cell was neither damp nor smelly as in one dark corner of it was a toilet, a simple thing luxury. It was just a hole in the floor with a lid which had smoothened stones which allowed excrement to pass smoothly outward with the help of a some water in a bucket beside it. It was regularly cleaned and always usable, so long as the occupant bothered asking for a fresh bucket of water.

On the right side of the room was a bed of raised stone with rushes and straw free from bugs, covered in a rough but serviceable cloth and a thick blanket on top. Opposite to the bed was a table with a few things on it, in the form of a candle on a stand, a quil and an ink well, and a few sheets of writing paper. The chair by the table had a thick leather belt with tools held firmly slung over.

All in all the prison was not a terrible place to be in and arguably was like one of the lesser quality inns town. Prisoners would even have clean water to drink and, though meager, two meals a day. Part of the intention it the seeming luxury given to petty law breakers was to treat them in a civil manner as dispel aggression and facilitate personal reflection. In cases of repeat offenders, a series drill session with the Vice Captain of the City Guard instills discipline back into them or more serious punishments are dealt accordingly.

The door to the cell was unlocked and then opened and a voice half grunted "Its time to go runt!"

Then a gentle shuffling came from the top of the rushes as a person sat up and slipped on a pair of heavy leather boots by the side of the bed.

"Come on I don't have all day!" the gaoler complained, though in truth he did have all the time in the world as this was the only prisoner that was in the jail that whole week. There were others that came and went but they were just drunks that needed some sobering up and paying fines for their damages.

The lawbreaker here was a familiar face and had not failed to be arrested every year for the past 5 years and had already become an almost quarterly occurance. The person had stayed at least a few days at a time for one charge or another every time they were arrested.

"Fine. Fine. Just let me fix up my my stuff." the person weekly said, pulling a boot to fit then patting himself off. The bending over and letting out a "Hup", the person picked up a misshapen lump of unrefined metal about the size of his head and put it under one arm and, in a smooth motion, gracefully slung the belt over the shoulder on the side where he held the lump.

The gaoler eyed the lawbreaker, snorted and said "Your other things are at the barracks, as usual, you know the drill."

"Yeah" the response came a bit too high pitched and then a bit of throat clearing another short reply was given, in a lower, steadier voice. "Okay. Lets go."

In the light of the hallway, it was made clear that the regular prisoner was wearing a leather appron over a plain coal-stained shirt that was formerly white and a brown, heavy pair of pants. Looking at the person, one could find a face with the soft features of youth slowly giving way to a mix of lean muscular features and a short orange stubble over a sharp chin. A head of autumn-orange hair in braids that reached the base of the shoulders. The youth had eyes that were in a green like that of spring grass. To add to all this, were small points on the end of the ears which rested on a lithe frame with a bit of muscle even under the heavy clothes could be seen.

The two of them made their way out of the prison building which was 2 stories tall and also had a basement for more special accommodations. Then entering a building across from it, they went of to the inside and took a left to a heavy metal door with a barred window with a smal counter.

The gaoler made a gesture to the armory attendant and then to the youth. The attendant just nodded, stepped away from the window and came back shortly with a cloth that he then layed on the counter. In the bunddle were a 2 pairs of tongs in different sizes, a large hammer, two medium ones with different shapped heads, a smaller hammer, a couple of chissels and a set of four rasps, all stringed together in pockets and straps of leather. There were also a pair of coal-stained, heavy leather gloves.

The youth gave everything a "once over" and recieved a scoff from the gaoler that was supposed to be growing impatient and a shrug from the attendant. This was just a habbit of the youth whenever slinging on tools and getting ready for work.

Again, the dou made their way together but this time it was towards the gates of the walled compound.

They both stopped at the guadhouse by the gate then the gaoler gave the youth a little push and grunted "I don't want to see you again here boy." A little bit hoping that it would be true.

"That isn't a certainty I can keep Goran. I needed the rest anyway and say 'Hi' to the missus and the little one for me, okay?" The youth said with a friendly and familliar tone.

"Hrmphh." was the only reply Goran gave, which sounded like it was between a grunt and a sigh and was accompanied by a 'shooing' gesture.

"Okay. Time to get back to the smithy then." the youth mused in thought.