The Dungeons of Byrch Hall

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

The Dungeons of Byrch Hall, like the rest of the Lord Byrch's holding, suffer from a deep lack of funding. 

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

3rd Moon, 27th Day 200 AD

Willem had been in his spartan cell for what he would wager to have been a day, although it was difficult to tell given the lack of natural light in the small room. Having paced angrily about for a good several bells (or what seemed like it), he had eventually fallen asleep. Now he was awake though, and in desperate need of something to do to avoid the deep boredom that he suspected he would become well acquainted with. He scanned the cell for something, anything, to occupy himself with.

[The Gambler]

He finds a flute...in the cell's shitbucket.

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

Willem stared at the flute for some time. He had always wanted to try his hand at an instrument. Yet even ignorant as he was of the findings of modern medicine, he had a suspicion that putting something covered with other peoples shit in his mouth might not be good for his health.

He sighed and returned to lie on what he assumed was supposed to be the cell's bed, deciding to content himself instead with counting the precise number of planks in the ceiling.

[The Gambler]

There were not many in the cramped cell, but as the Blackforts in general seemed to have trouble counting when numbers got higher than 20 (or 15 in Hoster's case, due to the missing hand), it kept him entertained until a guard came by and tossed in a wooden bowl of gruel.

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

While Willem was far from the dumbest of his kin, few would have mistaken him for a genius. He managed to keep himself entertained for longer than one would have expected staring at the ceiling, first counting and double counting the boards, then trying to guess what wood they were, then how long the boards were, and if they were all of the same length. Had he not been in a dungeon awaiting his potential execution it might have been relaxing.

When the gruel was deposited, Willem ate it without thought. He had become hungry, and he wanted to remain in as good health as he could, should he be given the opportunity to request a trial by combat, in place of a direct march to the gallows for crimes he had not committed.

[The Gambler]

3rd moon, 28th day

A guard came to escort Willem wordlessly up the the Great Hall.

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

Willem followed grimly wondering if the time had come for his execution. He resolved to not die a coward and followed the guard wordlessly, but with a proud bearing.