Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20170112225309/@comment-28358106-20170119171419

"Oh, I already have. Two lives' worth of shitty living, if you can call them that, and now I'm a Queen of the Void who get everything she wants and more."

She looks at the gin. "And not yet, maybe later. I just remembered I have a promise to keep, and I'm...in a certain kind of mood." She disappears.

On the other side of town, in a very dark, damp place, a certain mercenary lies on his bed, his hand on his bandaged head, his eyes closed.

He doesn't see, but the oil lamps that line the dungeon dim, and almost extinguish. Their dark glow slowly turns blue.

Silently, iron tines lined with razor thorns and filigree rise from the shadows of the floor, snaking around the bars of the cage, choking them until hardly a hole exists between them. It is a wall of razor steel, through which the flicker of the lamps can barely be seen.

The man continues lying on his cot. A voice, soft, cold and distant, rings from the darkness of the dungeon, seemingly coming from everywhere.

"Time to get up, little man. You're not going to want to sleep through this.  Hehehehehehehehe..."