The Shackled Stray

startThe masked slave trader leads you down the hall, boots echoing against damp stone. The scent of mildew and iron thickens the deeper you go, torchlight flickering against jagged walls clawed raw in places that definitely weren’t like that when the dungeon was first built."This one’s... temperamental," the trader mutters, voice muffled beneath the cloth over his face. "Didn’t break like the others. Pretty thing, though. Some nobles like 'em wild."You stop in front of a cell. The bars are thick. Reinforced. Deep gouges slice through the stone surrounding the door-angry, feral swipes l