Mordria
01-23-2007, 04:09 PM
The walls are slick with blood, but I have no choice but to hold onto them. My knees feel weak and the stench wafting from the stairwell is making me sick. I can’t see it yet, but I know what it is…the smell of rot, of flesh, of decaying marrow sliding from bone. I look down and see my dress, my lovely dress, made by the finest craftsmen, its dragging on the ground, through the filth, I can’t stand it, I lift it up and continue walking. I don’t want to go downstairs, I can’t even begin to know why I feel the urge to go on, I only know that I must. I follow the stairwell deeper and deeper; it seems without end and devoid of light. Finally I come to an opening in the wall, the doorway is filthy, and bugs crawl in and out of cracks in the walls. I walk through.
The room is like a play room of nightmare; various unidentifiable instruments of torture line every wall and take up all available space. They are all full…I can’t look at them, I wont make eye contact with the creatures in this room. They are doomed, I refuse to give them hope…what could I do against HIM. Inside the room stands a hooded figure hunched over a table, an undeniably male figure. I reach my hands out, I can’t help it, power rolls off of him in waves, I can almost feel it. I want to grab the power with my hands and wrap it around myself, to roll in it on the floor, among the waste. I walk to him, he turns to look at me and smiles. He reaches out and grabs my face, smearing blood and rot on my cheek and into my hair. I don’t care. I close my eyes and incline my face to him..Mordria…..
“Mordria? Mistress? Are you awake?”
I open my eyes. The bright sunshine of an eternal spring morning shines through the window. I sit up. My servant is here with my breakfast. It was nothing but a dream….just a dream.
“I’m sorry if I woke you but you said you wanted to meet with the priests this morning for training, they are assembled downstairs...”
Yes.
The room is like a play room of nightmare; various unidentifiable instruments of torture line every wall and take up all available space. They are all full…I can’t look at them, I wont make eye contact with the creatures in this room. They are doomed, I refuse to give them hope…what could I do against HIM. Inside the room stands a hooded figure hunched over a table, an undeniably male figure. I reach my hands out, I can’t help it, power rolls off of him in waves, I can almost feel it. I want to grab the power with my hands and wrap it around myself, to roll in it on the floor, among the waste. I walk to him, he turns to look at me and smiles. He reaches out and grabs my face, smearing blood and rot on my cheek and into my hair. I don’t care. I close my eyes and incline my face to him..Mordria…..
“Mordria? Mistress? Are you awake?”
I open my eyes. The bright sunshine of an eternal spring morning shines through the window. I sit up. My servant is here with my breakfast. It was nothing but a dream….just a dream.
“I’m sorry if I woke you but you said you wanted to meet with the priests this morning for training, they are assembled downstairs...”
Yes.