Nansham Prison was an ancient place.
Its walls of black oily stone overlooked the marshes below from the top of a mesa that sank its roots into the muddy water.
The building had been erected by the ancient sith, mysterious repositories of arcane and frightening arts.
Nansham, like everything created by the lords of the dark side, was devoid of any frills: just brutal pragmatism, translated into a banal square plan built around an internal courtyard.
The courtyard itself was overlooked on all sides by slits that acted as windows for the cells, and prevented the already feeble light of Dromund Kaas from penetrating the world of darkness of the inmates.
What made detention at Nansham unbearable was not so much the beatings of the guards (which were frequent) or the strict security measures.
What was unbearable at Nansham was the air: a widespread sense of despair and discomfort that broke the spirit and any desire for revenge.
Old, wrinkled, veterans went on to say it was an effect of the dark side, slowly sucking the life out of its tenants.
Others, less superstitious, believed the effect was due to the constant driving rain, the perpetually leaden sky and the miasma of the swamps.
No one, however, had a satisfactory answer: what was certain was that in the evening a sinister glow seemed to envelop the walls of Nansham, making them blacker than night.
@Charles
@Where
@Tenia
Its walls of black oily stone overlooked the marshes below from the top of a mesa that sank its roots into the muddy water.
The building had been erected by the ancient sith, mysterious repositories of arcane and frightening arts.
Nansham, like everything created by the lords of the dark side, was devoid of any frills: just brutal pragmatism, translated into a banal square plan built around an internal courtyard.
The courtyard itself was overlooked on all sides by slits that acted as windows for the cells, and prevented the already feeble light of Dromund Kaas from penetrating the world of darkness of the inmates.
What made detention at Nansham unbearable was not so much the beatings of the guards (which were frequent) or the strict security measures.
What was unbearable at Nansham was the air: a widespread sense of despair and discomfort that broke the spirit and any desire for revenge.
Old, wrinkled, veterans went on to say it was an effect of the dark side, slowly sucking the life out of its tenants.
Others, less superstitious, believed the effect was due to the constant driving rain, the perpetually leaden sky and the miasma of the swamps.
No one, however, had a satisfactory answer: what was certain was that in the evening a sinister glow seemed to envelop the walls of Nansham, making them blacker than night.
@Charles
@Where
@Tenia