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concordance_logs2015-03-18 03:36 pm
dispirits) wrote in concordance_logs2015-03-18 03:36 pm
Entry tags:
[Pawn and Prince]
Characters: Reks, Rasler
Where: Sochen Cave Palace, Archadia
When: Evening, 17 Skyfrost*, 710 Old Valendian
What: Dead men walking.
Warnings: Dead guys?
*Skyfrost = March
[Reks' encounter with that strange being was brief. However, he suspects that it will be quite some time before he fully absorbs what transpired. He knows and must necessarily accept that he is alive, a fact especially prevalent when the local fauna attack him. Where he may have thought perhaps this were not real, a cut here and a bruise there would suggest otherwise. It's only fortunate that he was returned - if that's the word to use - to the realm of the living with his armor. This is not what he drew his final breaths in, and the detail does not escape him.
But better this than the clothing he wore in the hospital. Even now he'd much rather avoid recalling that time, his thoughts far too clouded by present events to need yet more. With his equipment, Reks is able to defend himself. The calluses his hands bore from so many hours of training are gone, as are the marks of wounds that eventually saw the end of his days. It's a strange thing, and somehow, he does not feel entirely in place within his own body. And he supposes there may be good reason for that - even if he finds himself uncertain just what it is.
His surroundings are unfamiliar, a great structure woven into the earth, winding and twisting upon itself. For all its decrepit appearance, Reks would assume the place long abandoned. And yet at instances when he reaches double doors he finds he cannot pass. It takes him no small degree of backtracking through halls which all begin to look very much the same for him to work his way out. He supposes that, perhaps, these were protective methods of a bygone age. But who could assuredly say, one way or the other?
When at last he passes through a pair of stone doors and into fresh air, he puffs out a quiet sigh of relief. For a time, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he'd been brought back only to wander through dusty paths in stagnant air, trapped in his own tomb. Though wan light filters into the chamber, a cursory glance tells him he's not quite out yet. But he's surely close - at the top of a winding path he can see dirt give way to crumbling pavement, which hopefully promises some sort of civilization. Whatever is up there, it may be friendly or hostile, and there's no way of knowing which is the case until he ventures on ahead.
Before that, Reks takes a seat where he is. After so many hours of trying to escape that place, he's more than a little weary. And considering the uncertainty of what lies ahead, he thinks it best that he recover what strength he can. Somewhere along the way, his awareness fades to heavy black nothingness, leaving him seated near the doors asleep]
Where: Sochen Cave Palace, Archadia
When: Evening, 17 Skyfrost*, 710 Old Valendian
What: Dead men walking.
Warnings: Dead guys?
*Skyfrost = March
[Reks' encounter with that strange being was brief. However, he suspects that it will be quite some time before he fully absorbs what transpired. He knows and must necessarily accept that he is alive, a fact especially prevalent when the local fauna attack him. Where he may have thought perhaps this were not real, a cut here and a bruise there would suggest otherwise. It's only fortunate that he was returned - if that's the word to use - to the realm of the living with his armor. This is not what he drew his final breaths in, and the detail does not escape him.
But better this than the clothing he wore in the hospital. Even now he'd much rather avoid recalling that time, his thoughts far too clouded by present events to need yet more. With his equipment, Reks is able to defend himself. The calluses his hands bore from so many hours of training are gone, as are the marks of wounds that eventually saw the end of his days. It's a strange thing, and somehow, he does not feel entirely in place within his own body. And he supposes there may be good reason for that - even if he finds himself uncertain just what it is.
His surroundings are unfamiliar, a great structure woven into the earth, winding and twisting upon itself. For all its decrepit appearance, Reks would assume the place long abandoned. And yet at instances when he reaches double doors he finds he cannot pass. It takes him no small degree of backtracking through halls which all begin to look very much the same for him to work his way out. He supposes that, perhaps, these were protective methods of a bygone age. But who could assuredly say, one way or the other?
When at last he passes through a pair of stone doors and into fresh air, he puffs out a quiet sigh of relief. For a time, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he'd been brought back only to wander through dusty paths in stagnant air, trapped in his own tomb. Though wan light filters into the chamber, a cursory glance tells him he's not quite out yet. But he's surely close - at the top of a winding path he can see dirt give way to crumbling pavement, which hopefully promises some sort of civilization. Whatever is up there, it may be friendly or hostile, and there's no way of knowing which is the case until he ventures on ahead.
Before that, Reks takes a seat where he is. After so many hours of trying to escape that place, he's more than a little weary. And considering the uncertainty of what lies ahead, he thinks it best that he recover what strength he can. Somewhere along the way, his awareness fades to heavy black nothingness, leaving him seated near the doors asleep]