As Faith looked on the Warden, she would feel a slight resistance, at first, to her ability. Just long enough for the Warden to lock eyes with her, before arching a single eyebrow and smirking at the Zuuda. Then the resistance faded completely, and Faith's ability went to work. And for a moment, Faith's vision faded to black, as her ability gave a stronger response than it normally would. This was not an alteration to her ability, nor was it an outside force fighting it, her ability was working as perfectly as it should be. This was simply a much stronger revelation of that which the Warden serves. The blackness that held Faith's vision began to swirl and twist, smoke made of shadows, until it open up, and revealed the answer she sought.
There was something in the center of a massive cavern. It looked to be a massive tower of sorts, wrapped up in chains, with seven massive gems nestled in the front of it, six of which were glowing bright. Her vision pulled her point of view forward, into the depths of the tower. She was thrust through magical locks, wards, physical barriers that exceeded any mortal's imagination, until her vision was thrust into a final cage. In the center of it, a person, a girl, no older than ten, arms, face and legs covered in black, runic tattoos. Her head was slumped, her inky black hair hanging down messily. She wore a simple burlap dress, worn with age and filth. There were chains attached to her wrists and ankles, another around her waist and one around her neck. These chains were secured to the cage she was in, and held her suspended over the floor, unable to even reach anything.
The girl looked up, her eyes brimming with a glowing purple light, looking directly at Faith's point of vision. "I see you too, Champion of the Usurpers." Then the darkness began to swirl back into place, obscuring the entire scene. But just before it did, Faith's ability punched through, seeking the true master he served. And for the briefest of moments, the cage was gone, and the same black haired little girl was there, playing with a doll upon the ground. She looked human, and yet... not. The details of the difference were hard to understand, but it was an inherent feeling. Not a human, yet was. And as the darkness encroached on the vision, a voice from the little girl rang out, "Daddy, will you always be watching over me?"
And then everything went black, and Faith's ability ended.
And with her vision returned, she could see that the Warden was still staring at her, and there was pain behind his eyes, clear as day to the woman. He severed the look between them, and once more stood up, to face the Council, unbuttoning his jacket, just as he'd done before, and slicked his hair over his crown, also as he'd done before. He looked directly at Counciler Mareth this time, "I am amenable to this proposal, with a few suggestions of my own, for the operations to run more smoothly. If you wish to have prisoners working in various camps, be it for their own good, for profit, for whatever purpose, it matters not to me, I will allow it. I think it will do some good for them, and for Scalvoris as whole."
Her turned to Faith, taking a moment to study her demeanor following what she'd seen through him, "I wish to quell the rumor you have gained your information from. Your information is, for the most part, correct. Guards get bored, so they chat about their job at the watering holes in Egilrun. But yes, the lower levels are where the more dangerous are kept. Level Seven is typically reserved for those cursed with magic or blessed by the immortals. There are a few more mundane individuals down there, after having proven themselves to be dangerous enough to warrant that particular cage. The pecking order is quite a... soft way to describe Level Seven."
He smirked once more, "As someone who did his time in Level Seven, I can speak to the effectiveness of the brutality that exists down there. It isn't merely the strong or smart taking charge. It is far simpler than that.The strong and smart survive. The rest die. You might worry that they could organize and somehow stage an escape or coup, and that would be fair, for any other prison on Idalos. In Level Seven, exposing oneself to any other person there, is how you die. The prisoners put themselves into isolation down there, out of necessity."
"And even if they could organize, even if they could rally behind a once in a millennia leader of impeccable skill, they still wouldn't be able to overwhelm the defenses in place. I do not wish to boast, but Slags Deep puts the defenses of the Elements to shame, no offense intended. We've simply been able to perfect them over many arcs. You will not find a safer place in Idalos than the lobby of my prison. Councilor Augustin, the prisoners in Level Seven are locked away in a manner that while inhumane, is beyond effective."
Turning back to Kura, "I am willing to let any of the prisoners from Levels One through Six be put into these working camps you desire, with my own men serving as the guards. But I will not, cannot budge on ever allowing any of those in Level Seven such a privilege. Quite frankly, they are better trained, and better equipped to handle the prisoners than the Elements. Plus, our soldiers have a far more important duty, wouldn't you say? Our prisoners will work whatever job it is the government would like, I am not particular, whatever the endeavor, I'm sure all parties can benefit."
"I do make one request, one that I firmly stand behind. With my guards having to operate within Scalvoris' own territory, I ask that you create an additional seat upon this Council. This seat would serve as both overseer of all paperwork and operations for the work program, as well as serve as an ambassador from Scalvoris to Slags Deep. You may provide a list of nominees or interested parties to me, and I will interview them, and select the one I wish to see on the Council from your choices, if I wish to have any of them. "
"The minutia can be dealt with by this Council. Draft up an agreement, and I will be readily review it at your pleasure."
And with that, the man once again sat down.
There was a moment of silence, before Albarech Brandel cleared his throat. "Okay, the vote on the table is this. Do we proceed with Councilor Mareth's proposal to strike an agreement with Slags Deep in order to establish a prisoner rehabilitation program through a labor force." He paused as he rubbed at his temple, "If you have more to say, please do so now. When conversation is exhausted, we will cast votes. As per usual, one vote per councilor, with myself as tiebreaker if needed. Open palm for an aye vote, accepting this program be established, and allowing Councilor Mareth to work on crafting the agreement with Slags Deep. Closed fist for a nay vote, declining the prisoner rehabilitation program as a whole. A knock upon the table signals the tabling of the motion until the next meeting. No motion is an abstention of the vote. Following the vote, I will hand out assignments should the proposal pass. Following this, Councilor Augustin will present her proposal on the policing and legislation concerning Mages."