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[Thrax]

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The adamantite door swung open and Thrax entered the dungeon. Behind him followed Ivan Blackhands, Marcus Tyrannus and Durthagg. Two of them grabbed Duke Kotare's forearms and picked him up from the floor none too gently. The Duke, half-asleep, awoke with a start and began to struggle, uselessly. Realizing his assailants were too many and too strong, he relaxed as best he could. Thrax stood out of spitting distance and handed Ivan a key. "Unlock them," he commanded. Ivan nodded and complied, freeing the Duke's hands of the manacles.

"It is time you went to your new quarters," Thrax stated. "I have built a place especially for you. I think you will find it much more comfortable, befitting someone of your high social standing."

Kotare let his head drop forward as he uttered a few incoherent words.

Thrax, pretending to hear them, answered as if the Duke had asked him a question. "I call it the Oubliette... the place of forgetting. There you will be forgotten until your true love changes her tone." He then turned to his henchmen. "Take him."

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The second floor room was the largest in the cramped three-story building. Shaped like an "L" it had four slit windows which allowed minimal light to filter in from outside. Three-foot thick granite walls and ceiling enclosed a tileless floor made from a single slab of black polished stone. A single iron door was the only entrance. Otherwise the room was furnished like a modest suite, having a bookshelf, tables and a candelabra to give additional light to read and eat by.

"This is your new home," Thrax remarked as the Duke was led into the room and dropped unceremoniously into a Maginica-styled throne upholstered in soft grey velvet. "All the amenities any prisoner could want." He turned to his men, "You may go now. Continue the hunt for the Oubliette's next two residents." Each of the men nodded once and left, leaving the door open.

Duke Kotare tried to rise, but Thrax, with one hand, thrust him back down into the chair. Surprised by the man's immense strength, and too weak to fight at any rate, he decided not to resist further. Thrax removed his hand from Kotare's shoulder and stepped back. The Duke ignored him, refusing even to acknowledge his presence.

If this bothered his captor, it was unnoticeable, as he began another of his monologues. "I received word from the Duchess yesterday," he said, waiting to see the Duke's reaction. It was as if he were speaking to stone. He continued, unfazed. "She refuses to sign the treaty and threatened me, but gave me no word to speak to you... no comfort, assurance... nothing. Strange, don't you think? Are you absolutely certain she loves you?" The Duke remained quiet. Thrax rambled on, "I had a woman like her once... strong, determined... I like that in them. But she abandoned me... our love... when her moral convictions were offended. Just like your Duchess has you. Ironic isn't it?" He chuckled. "To be upstaged by virtue... nothing more than a flutter of the heart, ephemeral as a sunset! What a sad, sad, fate for us, eh?"

He turned to leave but kept his eyes on his prisoner. "I have changed my mind. You will die here.. a tired, old man bereft of companionship, all over a parcel of ground that is mine already. The Duchess will outlive you and take another consort. Ten years from now no one will remember why you did what you did, least of all the ungrateful peasants you are wasting your life for."

"She will," Kotare muttered, entirely convinced.

Thrax laughed. "May that thought make all this worthwhile," he sneered. He left the room and shut the door, locking it.

Kotare struggled to quell the accusing voice that mocked his pain. A consolation remained: deep in his heart, he remained proud of his Duchess.