Jaegar was now in a dungeon, kneeling on the ground, his wrists shackled by heavy chains, the dampness of the room clinging to the air. The flickering torches on the stone walls cast eerie shadows, illuminating the rusted bars of the cell. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, intensifying the feeling of isolation and despair.
The slight darkness enveloped him, and the chill seemed to seep into his very bones. Alone in the confines of the underground cell, he awaited his fate.
He looked at the bracelets that were on his wrists and cursed, being damned in these shackles and not being able to break free. The weight of the chains reminded him of his powerlessness, amplifying his frustration and anger. Jaegar had searched for ways and asked around the arena among the slaves, but he couldn't get any answers, not that he hoped he would get any. He just tried his luck to see if he could get anyone who would have heard about such bracelets.
