I should get out of them, before I get sick.Ĭarefully peeling off the many layers of cloth that used to make up her robes, Suzette is surprised at how light they are, especially since they're soaked. Is it water, or blood? Whatever it is, the smell makes me want to retch. Suzette looks all around her, taking in as much as she can of the ceiling, the walls, the door, the floor, and lastly, herself. Where has all the colour gone? Where is the light coming from? Suddenly, there were two yellow eyes, round and glowing in the darkness.Ī crackle of straw like laughter, and the eyes fade away. In the corner.he could almost imagine there was a shape to the darkness there. With a crackle and rustling of bandages, Noj jumps to his feet, turning his head frantically from side to side as he looks for the source of the voice. Before he can scream, he feels his fingers pushed aside by something, and two new lips now cover his teeth once more. Reaching with trembling fingers in the clammy silence, he feels the smooth enamel of his teeth, drying in the damp air. Peering closer in the strange otherworldly light, he peers at the two objects in his hand. Moving his other hand quickly, Noj catches the small objects that fall from beneath the bandage as it he tears it away with a crackling noise. Lifting his hand once more slowly to his face, Noj grasps the edge of the bandages across his mouth and tugs gingerly on them. Had he been injured? Captured? Why couldn't he remember? Moving along, the tall man feels with leaden fingers around the side of his face and the top of his head. "Marpha~!" He cuts off and hunches over, his fingers seeking the dirty bandage muffling his mouth. First order of buisness would be to find where you are and find a way out.
![who created dead realm who created dead realm](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/BxlOan8nKe4/maxresdefault.jpg)
You have a headache the size of Chauntea's backside you're surprised you're still standing. Your memories are all jumbled, faded, names and faces barely recognisable. You try to remember what town, what tavern and you fail. Most important of all, you have no recollection of how you got here-the last thing you remember is hearing talk of an impending disaster in the town tavern. You're in a prison or dungeon of sorts, in torn and bloodied clothing that looks nothing like your own and you're alone in a 10-foot square room with nothing else inside. But you have bigger problems than a faraway battle to worry about. You cannot be certain but they appear to be sounds of a furious but relatively small battle too far away to discern anything else-in fact, too far away for you to have heard it in the first place. So why do you feel as if you stand in your shift, drenched in water and in the wind's path?įaint sounds can be heard from above and almost imperceptible vibrations shake the walls. Such places are supposed to be warmer than the open plains this time of the year.
![who created dead realm who created dead realm](https://static.kinguin.net/cdn-cgi/image/w=1140,q=80,fit=scale-down,f=auto/media/category/2/-/2-1024_5368.jpg)
![who created dead realm who created dead realm](https://cdkeyprices.com/images/games/656593/cover.jpg)
Strange though-the air is stale and the stone walls slightly damp-you must be underground. So cold you feel as if you're freezing to death, numbness already having settled in every muscle and every joint. Apart from your sorry selves, dressed in the ragged remains of your old clothes no less, nothing is in the cold and empty room. You are in a tiny, windowless cell with rough stone walls and an old, rusty but thick iron door with a closed viewing hole. It is pitch black, no trace of light at all, but somehow you can see in the darkness as if in a candle-lit room. Suddenly, the chaotic flow of images tangled so you can't recognise what is what ceases.
![who created dead realm who created dead realm](https://ffxivcollect.com/assets/hairstyles/screenshots/302/ffxiv_01302021_232118_728-4d7da18f93e3f45008cefbe4ceda5660af857ecab698122083780a4035320f8d.png)
A woman dangling upside-down, blood draining away from a wound in her neck. A dungeon, painted in red, hordes of mice and flocks of bats scurrying around, people screaming. Bound hand and foot, carried away by four men in red cloaks. Moments of frantic fighting and chaos and death, swords cutting off heads and limbs left and right, claws tearing out throats and armored men falling dead at a single touch. Shadows and mists dancing among the lightning bolts as a tide of dark spirits overruns the gate. A commander of the militia frantically ordering retreat. A black cloud covering the sun while the dead walk against a city in the east. Thousands upon thousands of bodies piled in a valley where two armies met. A blackened ruin of a building that could have been home once but no longer. Images and recollections of the past flash through the darkness of the mind:įires devouring the sere grasslands of a blighted land.