Barbarian's Hideout

Arianna's feet felt numb with each step on the frigid metallic ground, as if she were walking across ice. Every inch of her body ached, from the rough shackles clamped around her wrists that bit deep enough to peel the skin, to the searing wounds on her thighs, reminders of her captor's sadistic cruelty. The shackles pulsed with a dark energy that smothered her magic, nullifying any hope of escape.

She glanced up at the towering figure leading her, the Butcher Man. He was a hulking brute, gripping the end of her chains in one hand and a bloodstained knife in the other. The knife dripped her own blood, fresh and vibrant against the rusted floor. Her legs buckled with every agonizing step, and she limped, struggling to keep up as he dragged her along. He pulled with heartless efficiency, his focus fixed on their destination, indifferent to her suffering.