227
You pace the cell like a caged lion, cursing your predicament and trying to think of a way to escape. After an hour you resign yourself to your fate and settle down on your haunches to sleep.
The prod of a spear haft wakes you from your slumber. ‘On your feet,’ snarls the brutish sergeant-at-arms, standing over you with his spear poised to strike again. Two soldiers grab you roughly by the collar and shove you through the open cell door into the arms of an escort that has come to take you before the Chief Magistrate. Your hands and feet are shackled with chains and you are bundled into a covered wagon waiting beside the South Gate. It moves off at breakneck speed, and by the time it reaches its destination, you are covered in bruises: lose 2 ENDURANCE points.
