Incline 6: Prisoner Vapooliar

"What in Waionr's name...?" I let out under my breath, baffled by just how many Valkinvar are currently occupying the Dungeons of the Broken Oaths. I blink repeatedly, only growing more confused as I see how unassuming everything is right now. The name, the stories of this place... It's nothing what one would expect from a prison.

It's clean, well-looked after and none of the prisoners are wanting. If anything, it's more like a holding pen than an actual dungeon like its name suggests. But, perhaps that is just more proof of how far the Valkinvar have fallen? Even the least looked after places are a mess in how they should be.

"Dungeonkeeper, a new body." one of the Valkinvar-Staguiffmani holding me calls out. An unknown woman rises, her armour not bearing the familiar markings of the four Ordoars. The flowing robes of the Staguiffmani, the sharp plate of the Imdvarce. The bulkiness of the Ammimpaurst or even the distant aetherealness of the Wiswipide, an uncanny fusion of my Ordoar and that of our esteemed casters.

This 'Dungeonkeeper,' is perhaps closest to our hammer-wielding brothers in that her armour is overly large. Yet that is all. Chains and shattered cuffs drench her armour. A grim reminder of what I can only presume to be what traitors have existed within the Valkinvar.

"Oooo, another one here for absolutely nothing," the Dungeonkeeper chirps, her personality catching me off-guard.

"You'd think these traitors would be sped along to their punishments." one of my captors remarks as she shoves me ahead. I stagger ahead into the Dungeonkeeper's arms and she sets me upright again. She meets my eyes with hers, their colour bright with warmth.

"Don't worry about a thing, Valkinvar-Imdvarce. Whatever is going on up top, it's nonsensical." she explains, her actions as gentle as a mother with her newborn child. She nudges me into the expansive dungeon, though she doesn't grant me the courtesy of free hands. Most people here don't.

"I thought this dungeon was meant only for...?" I start to ask, offering a quick glance at all the dull art etched into the walls. Even down here, an artisan is still needed.

"For those with broken oaths? You would think. But, for some reason, everyone is now down here. I can't say I'm all that bothered. It's nice to actually have visitors!" the Dungeonkeeper squeals, her pale face and its emotions reminding me of a little girl. I frown in thought and look back at my fellow prisoners.

"I am still reduced from my prior standing, however?" I ask, knowing somewhat of the procedures.

"Oh, yes, that's right. I am supposed to technically..." she explains, cheerfully going about her work like the impossible rarity it is. I can't help but smile at her passion and energy, and a giggle erupts as she comes close, tablet in hand and ignorance on mind.

"Vapooliar." I answer and her smile grows.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sister Vapooliar. I'm Valkinvar-Exalsonarden Styadesx, at your, hopefully, limited service. Most people default to 'Dungeonkeeper,' however, I'm needed so little they all forget about me! Imagine! Though, please, feel free to come down here again to chat!" she introduces herself as a few groans erupt behind me. She leans aside, waving at the sources, and I try to follow the gestures.

"I suppose I can make time." I say, not all too sure if I can promise anything to one of the five Valkinvar-Exalsonarden. A smile burns bright inside me, though, because of words. She's entirely correct! It's been so long since anything of note really happened with the Valkinvar and traitors... The last incident is practically ancient and I'm pretty sure I can catch rust on her ornate armour.

"Wonderful! Hopefully, you'll be in and out with no issue." she tells me and I can't help but cock a brow.

"Surely someone of your status would prefer prisoners to be secure in their torment?" I ask her, not all that accustomed to the traditions of the Valkinvar's prisons and means of capital punishment. The last incident of note was so many grand-cycles ago and my time away has scrubbed my mind of so much. Shameful as it is to even try to admit in my head, let alone my thoughts.

"I know... We don't get much work down here these days. Not since I first got the job four-hundred years ago, even! Still, this is excessive and over such strange things. I tried to put on a scary act at first, but then so many started coming down here. I think out of everyone, only one actually did anything bad, and she's right over there, doing pull-ups," the Dungeonkeeper explains, her arm slipping in as much as it can past the bars.

I follow the finger, stretching to its limits and spot a fellow Valkinvar in half of her armour and a top. I nearly look away, yet, as I do so, I spot a distinct pale line around her left arm socket. My hands come up in thanks towards the Valkinvar-Exalsonarden and I approach my sister. Others step aside and I arrive before the familiar face.

"Oh, Sister Uala, you yet live." I let out, surprised to see the old bane of my life from the Long Battery Fort, still alive and well.

"Do I know you?" she asks, her voice gruff with more than just exertion. I look over her body, not catching sight of a single bead of sweat, no matter how hard she pushes herself. Or pulls, rather. 

"Sister Vapooliar, you gave me a rough time back at the Long Battery Fort some time ago." I answer, an awkward smile to my lips as she drops to the ground. The dungeon rings with smacked upon stone and I take a slight step back, now able to see her face. It's bruised and cut-up, stained with marks of violence that seem so very out of place.

"Right, you. The Valkinvar-No-Crotch." she scoffs, her slur catches a few nasty chuckles from our sisters and what few brothers are down here with us. I turn around both ways, catching signs of no Valkinvar of the Ordoar Staguiffmani. 

"So... How did you end up here?" I ask, and she snorts, her magic throwing her back up to her habit of exercise. I walk around her, looking up and down at her motions and the well-sculpted muscles that make up her body. She's certainly gained a fair few scars since I last met her. Though I remember her arm one the most. While I find her to be abrasive, that day did show me her spirit in the face of even execution.

"Fight." she answers, eventually.

I frown, "A fight?"

"Yep." Uala fires out without a moment to spare as I take in some of her features. She's not all that different from anyone else among the Valkinvar-Imdvarce. Short-cut hair much like my own. Sandy brown with lines of Breezing Star daring to give it colour, though she's certainly got more to it than me. Curiously, most of her magic-coloured hair is braided into a thin tail around where her occipital is. 

"That's not why she's here, specifically." some brother of the Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst answers and Uala burns red, throwing herself at him. The gods show their will and our unknown brother throws Uala to the ground despite the handicap of chains.

"No fighting, please! Or I will actually have to enforce discipline!" Valkinvar-Exalsonarden Styadesx calls out, her words chilling the entire dungeon to a complete silence. I gulp, blinking in surprise at the overwhelming power coming into the dungeon from her. She lets up, that sharp look making way for the chirpiness of before. 

"So... What actually happened, then?" I ask Sister Uala, helping her up as best as I can. The Valkinvar-Ammimpaurst heads away, his bald head not turning once as he finds another place to rest.

"I disobeyed one of those stupid orders. The same that likely got you stuck down here with me. I, however, was willing to call them out on the stupid enforcement of it!" she explains, building herself up into an almost throthing snap. 

"I see. Then everyone else is also here for those reasons?" I ask.

"Not occurring to you, Stupid?" Uala goes and I sit down on one of the stone benches around the dungeon's edge. An artistic piece for someone's garden in any other part of the world.

"Just trying to make conversation and pass the time." I mutter, rolling my eyes at Uala's petty childishness.

"More to it than asking questions alone." she goes, throwing herself onto the magic dense stone with the kind of force that would reduce castles in weaker regions. It's no wonder Thurn's Forge is able to last the way it is in the face of such an overwhelming enemy. So much magic flows to this city and everything benefits.

It's no wonder the Seven-Peaks Union of Jherikra is so arrogant in regards to us being apart of it. Our war or not, they see our absorption as inevitable and I suppose they're right. Whatever has destroyed us, though, will not be them. Our inability to fight will see us die in cells like these and worse.

"Try not to think too grimly about what will happen. The punishments are basically nothing." Uala shrugs and I look over at her, narrowing my eyes in some disbelief as those bruises of hers make it hard to believe. Well, at worst, only she will see anything extreme, or maybe not even that.

"People are just handed their punishments down here?" I ask, not entirely sure how the Valkinvar justice system will be able to handle such a quantity of its own prisoners. The entire thing is practically a ceremonial affair. We're indoctrinated to such extents that we barely even break our schedules, let alone our laws. I'm probably the only one with any reason to break any of this, given my unique circumstances...

I'm, with all respect to what the Valkinvar are... The only one who truly belongs here. In the Dungeon of Broken Oaths. My virgin promise to Waionr is gone, nearly a decade worthless and dead as any corpse I have made with my blade and spells.

"Believe it or not, somehow, they still feel fit to go through all the pomp and ceremony of a proper trial... Well, a sped up one, anyhow." Uala huffs and I join in with her feelings of resentment.

"Somehow, our time at the Long Battery Fort feels almost like a dream. There were plans, actions. We had our backs against the mountains, literally, and we still fought as Valkinvar should. Now we're barely even fighting..." I say, insulted by my current circumstances. I spent too long out of the war as I handled my trauma of losing my sacred virginity at the claws of the osibindah. And now, after going through all that I did to get back into the war...

Here I am, wasting time in a cell. 

Time I could spend flying across the country. Hopping from fortress to fortress. Battering down our invaders and freeing our people. Their machines will burn black with ash and their bodies will return to the god-bloodied clay that made us. But, no.

"Makes one wish they died alongside Wing-Head Allyoceer." Uala sighs and I look her way, recalling the woman who gave me the confidence to properly fight in this war again. She made me a Wing-Tip, and that experience then lead to me getting a further promotion to Wing-Head.

"There are many sisters and brothers I wish were still alive. But, I would not want them to be alive to see this," someone remarks and we look over at her as she hides behind her veil and long, flowing, black hair. A void broken apart by shimmering shades of Pride's Eye. Her skin, though, couldn't be any more colourful from exposure to the Orbital-Halo and its light.

I try my best to welcome the Valkinvar-Wiswipide over, but she declines my offer. Her grace and elegance of movement reminding me much of the mannerisms of her Ordoar's leading Valkinvar. The stairs echo with heavy steps, anchoring much of the dungeon's attention. Our sister looks that way, too, a shyness to her one might expect from a fair maiden.

No new prisoners come into view and the Valkinvar-Exalsonarden rises to meet them. Her cheery demeanour drops away, vanishing into the wind that comes with the individual. I rise up in an attempt to get a better look at who is here. My mouth opens in disbelief, the telltale signs of our new arrival's importance changing so much about our circumstances.

With her hair split in four tails, in four sections... One of our native emerald, flaming ruby, shocking gold and wet sapphire. The Zaphadren-Valkinvar. Why is she here...?

"Once again, she arrives at such strange moments." I remark under my breath, not quite able to hear what she is saying to our warden. Hopefully, we will be out of this dungeon soon.