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"Was it just a dream...?"
Eyes opening slowly, blinking away the weariness to take in the new surroundings readily. She mouths the words "hello" but her voice seems to be of its own, overpowered by a source far beyond her influence. The footsteps of guards patrolling can barely be heard, echoing in her ears as though through a dream---submerged in a shallow water---they sounded continuously. Walls spinning, rippling as still water disturbed by stone. Lights flicker and play, throwing mad faces against the new, distorted reality. Her mind wandered...
"... oh." Her mind toned, "It still persists."
A pair of footsteps booms closer, closer---the sound reverberating like a thousand loud drums against her broken senses. The presence looms near, its shadow cast against the torchlight beyond her and throwing itself over, peering wildly at her as she sit in the coolness.
"Oi... ye's eatin' or not? Food's been sittin' 'ter for 'alf a day." A man's voice echos distantly, although very near. "She ain't eatin' 'ten."
She felt her gaze rise to focus on the new, shifty being. The shadowy, wavy form could barely be made out against the volatile sight her eyes now possessed. Thick metal bars separated them, a cell. She was in an anti-magic cell, she remembered now...
"A man with a red pendant. Three giants. A six-legged hound." Her voice repeated compulsively as her body seemed to function near on it's own without her influence. "One black, one red. Black blood."
Her mind calls out, "What am... I saying? This again?"
"Yeah, yeah... you been sayin' that for 'a past two days!" The figure leans in, mocking, "Lemme' guess, 'eh? Under the skin? One coin, two sides, eh?" It seems to move away, a dismissive gesture hardly recognizable against the inanity as it disappears from vision.
"Under the skin. One coin, two sides." Her lips repeat.
"Little ghoul in 'der, I's swear. Lookit' 'er face, eh?" The voices ring like bells. "Never seen anything like it. Don't suppose she's ah... dead, do you?" They continue to project wearily, "Unless ye's talkin' 'bout undead, no. Seen 'tem veins on 'er? Less 'er blood is made 'o lead, that ain't natural."
Her gaze looks down, upon herself. Coughing suddenly, violently, her body seems to be in a fit of external turmoil. As if merely waiting inside of her own body, now an animate object to her, she watches as blood and gore hit the floor at her feet.
"I am dying."
(( For some reason my sig isn't showing, but I am Sol for those of you unbelievers! ))
Eyes opening slowly, blinking away the weariness to take in the new surroundings readily. She mouths the words "hello" but her voice seems to be of its own, overpowered by a source far beyond her influence. The footsteps of guards patrolling can barely be heard, echoing in her ears as though through a dream---submerged in a shallow water---they sounded continuously. Walls spinning, rippling as still water disturbed by stone. Lights flicker and play, throwing mad faces against the new, distorted reality. Her mind wandered...
"... oh." Her mind toned, "It still persists."
A pair of footsteps booms closer, closer---the sound reverberating like a thousand loud drums against her broken senses. The presence looms near, its shadow cast against the torchlight beyond her and throwing itself over, peering wildly at her as she sit in the coolness.
"Oi... ye's eatin' or not? Food's been sittin' 'ter for 'alf a day." A man's voice echos distantly, although very near. "She ain't eatin' 'ten."
She felt her gaze rise to focus on the new, shifty being. The shadowy, wavy form could barely be made out against the volatile sight her eyes now possessed. Thick metal bars separated them, a cell. She was in an anti-magic cell, she remembered now...
"A man with a red pendant. Three giants. A six-legged hound." Her voice repeated compulsively as her body seemed to function near on it's own without her influence. "One black, one red. Black blood."
Her mind calls out, "What am... I saying? This again?"
"Yeah, yeah... you been sayin' that for 'a past two days!" The figure leans in, mocking, "Lemme' guess, 'eh? Under the skin? One coin, two sides, eh?" It seems to move away, a dismissive gesture hardly recognizable against the inanity as it disappears from vision.
"Under the skin. One coin, two sides." Her lips repeat.
"Little ghoul in 'der, I's swear. Lookit' 'er face, eh?" The voices ring like bells. "Never seen anything like it. Don't suppose she's ah... dead, do you?" They continue to project wearily, "Unless ye's talkin' 'bout undead, no. Seen 'tem veins on 'er? Less 'er blood is made 'o lead, that ain't natural."
Her gaze looks down, upon herself. Coughing suddenly, violently, her body seems to be in a fit of external turmoil. As if merely waiting inside of her own body, now an animate object to her, she watches as blood and gore hit the floor at her feet.
"I am dying."
(( For some reason my sig isn't showing, but I am Sol for those of you unbelievers! ))