In the two-hundredth-forty-seventh year of his imprisonment, Krieth Glimmerblade, chosen Avatar of the sun god Shar, contrived an escape from the prison of Bleakblood – better known as the House of Pain – the first to do so in ten millennia. The word "contrived", however, can only be loosely applied since his freedom was more the result of serendipity than actual planning. Still, he had had centuries in which to prepare for the moment, which he knew would come – if only he lived long enough.
The day began like most others: Krieth awoke with the rising sun and made obeisance. Not that he was actually able to see Shar rise; his cell being in the center of Bleakblood and well below ground, Krieth had seen precious little of anything during his time there. Being who and what he was, his jailers had always kept him in permanent darkness, sometimes by natural means but more often by methods unnatural. During the early part of his imprisonment, he had frequently been taken from his cell for purposes of torture and execution, the former of which his captors found difficult to inflict – the latter, impossible. For no matter how grievous the wound inflicted, Krieth began to recover almost immediately.
Their efforts at taking his life being unfruitful, they simply sealed him away in his cell; no longer was there a door, but four steel walls and a slot for food (which, in the later years, the guards seldom seemed to utilize). And, as always, the deep magics of the Dark Ones encircled him, binding his strength and – most importantly – keeping him hidden from Shar. For, although the sun god could feel Krieth's presence, he was unable to find him. For his part, Krieth was able to feel Shar (as any Avatar should feel his god) but was unable to connect with him.
Thus it was on the day that he went free, Krieth knew precisely when the sun would rise and when it would set, as well as how much time had passed during his imprisonment. On that fateful morn, Krieth sat in total darkness focusing all his energy on the ka-Shar – the bonding with his god. As usual, he could sense Shar, but could not interact with him. He sat in the dark totally nude, his clothes having long ago worn away. His cell was spartan by any standard, having never been furnished with so much as a blanket, let alone a bed. The dish that occasionally provided his food also served to take away his bodily wastes. (He had ceased to notice the smell years earlier.) After ending the ka-Shar, he mentally went over the list of those who had betrayed him and put him here, vowing as he did each day to visit vengeance upon them all.
It was late afternoon when, suddenly and without preamble, the ground shook with unprecedented force. There was a noise like a thunderclap, accompanied by the sounds of dense metal being torn apart and great stones tumbling down. As his cell lurched suddenly to one side, Krieth was taken aback. Bleakblood was more than just a prison or a house of torture; it was a holy temple to the Dark Ones and their servants, a place where unspeakable evils were committed. As such, it was protected by deep and powerful magics, to such an extent that it could not be affected by the forces of nature, man or – some said – the gods. Inside its walls metal did not rust, stone did not crumble. Moreover, otherworldly creatures of malevolent demeanor wandered the halls, doing the bidding of whatever evil they called master. All in all, the House of Pain was protected on natural, unnatural and preternatural levels. To have been affected at all, let alone to the degree Krieth observed, took power reserved only to the highest of the gods.
The quake only lasted a few minutes, and Krieth – although bandied about – was grateful to find himself uninjured when it ceased. Unknown to his captors, the strength he had shown in the early years, strength which had made it impossible to kill him, had (as he knew it would) largely evaporated over the course of his imprisonment. Being removed from Shar's benevolent gaze for so long, his powers had greatly diminished over the years until little of his former vitality remained. Had his captors continued their torment of him they would have discovered this, but he had not left his cell in nigh two hundred years.
Coming to his feet, Krieth suddenly found himself surprised for the second time that morning. As an Avatar, he was highly attuned to the forces on several planes: both the lesser and greater magics, the light and dark arts, and power of all types, whether natural, unnatural, preternatural or supernatural. Thus he knew without question that the magics binding his cell, while not shattered, had weakened considerably. In fact, the power of the Dark Ones in effect at Bleakblood had been disrupted on numerous levels. Overjoyed at this long-awaited opportunity, Krieth moved toward the walls of his cell, determined to find a way out.
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