JD's bazaar

[LLL]

A pity. Still, sooner or later Emhyr (and you) will decide to question them, I guess

Very likely. Just don't do divinations by the filenames.

OK... didn't think it was a big issue

[doe.1971]

OK... didn't think it was a big issue

It's not. It's meaningless, heh.

[doe.1971]

As the heavy iron doors of the Imperial prison creaked open, a faint sliver of dim light pierced the darkness. The three women prisoners, their faces pale and gaunt from weeks of confinement, were dragged out by burly guards. Their wrists bound with thick demeritium chains, designed to counter the innate magic of the sorceresses, they stumbled down the circular flight of stairs, their eyes adjusting slowly to the eerie gloom.

The air was heavy with the stench of damp stone and mold, making it hard for them to breathe. The only sound was the soft scraping of their feet on the cold, rough steps as they were pulled downward by the guards' unyielding grip.

As they descended, the darkness seemed to grow thicker, like a physical presence that wrapped around them. The women's hearts raced with fear and uncertainty, their minds reeling from the unknown terrors that lay ahead.

The first prisoner, a gorgeous woman named Margarita Laux-Antille, stumbled on the step, her eyes wide with terror as she struggled against the chains. Her guards yanked her back up by the arms, their faces expressionless behind masks of leather and steel.

Next was Fringilla Vigo, a tall, athletic woman with short dark hair, who had been accused of treason for practicing dark magics against the Nielfgaard order. She glared defiantly at the guards as they pulled her down, but even she couldn't hide the fear that crept into her eyes as the darkness closed in around them.

The third prisoner was their unofficial 'leader', Philippa Eilhart, a harsh-spoken woman with long black hair tied in two childish braids and a quiet determination. Her gaze remained fixed on some distant point ahead, her mind focused on survival rather than surrender.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the women were pushed through a narrow doorway into an even darker chamber. The air here was heavy with the stench of sweat, smoke, and despair. Torches flickered on the walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to writhe like living things.

The guards released their grip, allowing the prisoners to stumble forward, their eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light. Ahead lay a cold, stone table, surrounded by cruel-looking instruments of torture. The women's hearts sank as they realized where they were being taken: the infamous interrogation chamber deep within the dungeon walls.

Their fate was sealed; only time would tell if any of them would survive the brutal questioning that awaited them in this dark and foreboding place.

[wulf]

As the heavy iron doors of the Imperial prison creaked open, a faint sliver of dim light pierced the darkness. The three women prisoners, their faces pale and gaunt from weeks of confinement, were dragged out by burly guards. Their wrists bound with thick demeritium chains, designed to counter the innate magic of the sorceresses, they stumbled down the circular flight of stairs, their eyes adjusting slowly to the eerie gloom.

The air was heavy with the stench of damp stone and mold, making it hard for them to breathe. The only sound was the soft scraping of their feet on the cold, rough steps as they were pulled downward by the guards' unyielding grip.

As they descended, the darkness seemed to grow thicker, like a physical presence that wrapped around them. The women's hearts raced with fear and uncertainty, their minds reeling from the unknown terrors that lay ahead.

The first prisoner, a gorgeous woman named Margarita Laux-Antille, stumbled on the step, her eyes wide with terror as she struggled against the chains. Her guards yanked her back up by the arms, their faces expressionless behind masks of leather and steel.

Next was Fringilla Vigo, a tall, athletic woman with short dark hair, who had been accused of treason for practicing dark magics against the Nielfgaard order. She glared defiantly at the guards as they pulled her down, but even she couldn't hide the fear that crept into her eyes as the darkness closed in around them.

The third prisoner was their unofficial 'leader', Philippa Eilhart, a harsh-spoken woman with long black hair tied in two childish braids and a quiet determination. Her gaze remained fixed on some distant point ahead, her mind focused on survival rather than surrender.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the women were pushed through a narrow doorway into an even darker chamber. The air here was heavy with the stench of sweat, smoke, and despair. Torches flickered on the walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to writhe like living things.

The guards released their grip, allowing the prisoners to stumble forward, their eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light. Ahead lay a cold, stone table, surrounded by cruel-looking instruments of torture. The women's hearts sank as they realized where they were being taken: the infamous interrogation chamber deep within the dungeon walls.

Their fate was sealed; only time would tell if any of them would survive the brutal questioning that awaited them in this dark and foreboding place.

I love it. I needed a good story to cheer me up. Thanks JD.

[doe.1971]

I love it. I needed a good story to cheer me up. Thanks JD.

LL's idea.


Further down the line.

Aside from Philippa, Margaret and Fringilla, miss Merigold was captured too by the Imperial agents. A freightened Ciri is brought to witness their predictment.

"There's an available spot next to them if you prefer to side with the Lodge and refuse your rightfully place at the court" said Emhyr, menacingly.

[doe.1971]

Getting in position.

Emperor Emhyr stood before the sorceress Yennefer, holding her made-up confession that needed to be signed. She was naked on the rack, her body trembling with fear as she looked up at him.

The henchmen grabbed the prisoner and quickly tied her to the rack. She struggled and fought back, but their strength was too much for her.

As she lay there, bound and helpless, the prisoner could feel the rough wood of the rack pressing against her skin. It was a cruel and inhumane way to be punished, but it was what they had chosen for her.

The henchmen stood over her, their faces twisted with malice as they taunted her. "You should have known better than to defy your Emperor," one of them said. "Now you will pay the price."

The prisoner tried to ignore their words and focus on getting free, but it was no use. She was too weak and too bound to escape. All she could do now was wait for her fate.

"Sign this," Emhyr commanded, his voice cold and commanding. "It is your duty."

Yennefer hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up. "I refuse," she said bravely. "I will not sign that paper."

Emhyr's eyes narrowed in anger as he looked down at her. "You dare to defy me?" he asked, his voice low and threatening.

Yennefer nodded, still refusing to sign the paper. She knew what it represented - a life sentence in Emhyr's dungeon, a man she despised.

"Very well, let's go on then!"

As the pain racked her body, Yennefer refused to give up. She knew that if she signed the confession, it would be the end of her as she knew it. And so, even as Emhyr tortured her, she held on to her bravery and refused to sign.

In the end, it was her determination and bravery that saved her. For when the henchmen finally released her from the rack, they found that she had not been broken as easily as they thought. She was still strong and defiant, even after being tortured for hours on end.

[wulf]

Lovely images, and thank you for sharing.

[doe.1971]

Lovely images, and thank you for sharing.

No prob. For those more hard-core, same image after hot irons were used on her boobs. Trials to see what works.

[wulf]

Lovely images, and thank you for sharing.

No prob. For those more hard-core, same image after hot irons were used on her boobs. Trials to see what works.


yen image (13)6.jpg

I like the additions. Very nice.

[doe.1971]

Really, wulfie? A hardcore? What will the cats say when they find out? And they always find out.