The first people who came out of the room were two undead armoured to the teeth. They had swords strapped to their hips on one side, and a leather whip on the other.
'A whip?' Eliron mused. It was as unpractical and fantasy weapons could get, especially the type of whip the guards bore.
But Eliron realised just now practical the weapons were a few seconds later.
The two undead stood at both sides of the door, ushering some people into the room.
The first was a girl who seemed to be the oldest among them. Her blonde hair had been sullied with blood, and her gown reduced to tatters. Yet she walked with a certain dignity about her—a noble.
Two other girls entered the room more cautiously, their eyes wide and searching. All of them were shivering, which made sense considering how the castle was made of ice, and that they were not given proper clothes…
