Jezze
03-27-2006, 10:57 AM
A pulsating pain throbbed in her head and her eyes felt gritty and heavy. Groggily she opened them only to see a strange hazy green glow. The sharp odor of formaldehyde filled her nostrils and she sneezed. Someone mumbled, “She is awake.” She tried to raise her head and could not. She tried to move but her arms and legs were restrained. She tried to say something but there was something in her throat. Something or someone touched her arm, something cold and hard, and she could not turn her head to see what it was. She realized her head was strapped to the table, the band cut into her forehead as she tried to turn. The face of an undead female loomed over her, smiling. Jezze fainted.
Jezze awoke and for a second did not know where she was. She sat up in bed and looked around. Next to her lay Apollion sleeping quietly. That dream again. She had dreamt it several times since the meeting with Clys. She felt guilty. Guilty about not following up with the agreement she and Apollion had made that day, but events had kept them from keeping their word. For one they had moved on from the Greenlanterns and joined the Blades. Jezze had meant to approach Celethorn on possibly meeting with Clys, but the guild leader is magnanimous and just a little intimidating to her, and she was afraid that being new to the guild and asking something like meeting with an undead would put her in a really bad light. She knew she was going to have to approach him soon on the matter.
She turned over and snuggled up against Apollion. Thinking “I wonder how the others would feel about me knowing that I was feeling guilty about being untrue to my word. My word given to an undead.” She drifted back into an uneasy sleep.
This time she was not restrained, but laying on a pallet of furs. The air was cold and she shivered. She felt movement and yes looking around she could tell she was in some sort of wagon. Her arms and legs felt heavy and moving them took a lot of effort. She sat up and her surroundings went out of focus. With both hands she rubbed her eyes and looked around again. It was a small wagon, her pallet of furs taking up half of it. There were several weapons and shields around her, all of them new and shiny. Her dress felt scratchy and inspecting she discovered she was not in her usually attire but completely dressed in twill. Her ankles felt like they were on fire as she moved, brushing against the soft furs. Her feet were bare and above her ankles were blisters and a purplish red bruises, she reached down to touch one of the blisters and her wrist caught her eye. It too was blistered and had the same sort of bruising. She checked the other one and it was the same. Thirsty, she felt so dry. Her throat felt raw and scratchy. She licked her dry parched lips to try and moisten them. It was too painful to talk, so she began to beat on the side of the wagon. The wagon stopped.
“What you want?” She looked up and there peeking in from between the canvas flap, that covered the opening of the front of the wagon, was a little green female goblin staring at her. Jezze rubbed her throat and whispered water. “I got what you need.” The goblin jumped into the wagon with her and grabbed a flask and handed it to Jezze. “Drink up.”
It was not water but some sweet soothing liquid, a nectar of some sort. The goblin stood staring at her, smiling and rubbing her hands together. Jezze scooted back across the furs into the corner of the wagon, holding onto the flask. “Keep it” the goblin turned and jumped back up through the flap and the wagon started rolling again. Jezze sat there for a few minutes and then slowly crawled to the front of the wagon. She pulled herself up and let go with the most forceful Psychic Scream that she could with her sore throat. The goblin jumped and seem to fly off the seat of the wagon, rolling when she hit the ground, and then took off running. The scream caused the horse pulling the wagon to panic and it burst into a gallop throwing Jezze down backwards in the wagon.
“Wake up, hon, your dreaming.” Apollion was shaking her.
Jezze awoke and for a second did not know where she was. She sat up in bed and looked around. Next to her lay Apollion sleeping quietly. That dream again. She had dreamt it several times since the meeting with Clys. She felt guilty. Guilty about not following up with the agreement she and Apollion had made that day, but events had kept them from keeping their word. For one they had moved on from the Greenlanterns and joined the Blades. Jezze had meant to approach Celethorn on possibly meeting with Clys, but the guild leader is magnanimous and just a little intimidating to her, and she was afraid that being new to the guild and asking something like meeting with an undead would put her in a really bad light. She knew she was going to have to approach him soon on the matter.
She turned over and snuggled up against Apollion. Thinking “I wonder how the others would feel about me knowing that I was feeling guilty about being untrue to my word. My word given to an undead.” She drifted back into an uneasy sleep.
This time she was not restrained, but laying on a pallet of furs. The air was cold and she shivered. She felt movement and yes looking around she could tell she was in some sort of wagon. Her arms and legs felt heavy and moving them took a lot of effort. She sat up and her surroundings went out of focus. With both hands she rubbed her eyes and looked around again. It was a small wagon, her pallet of furs taking up half of it. There were several weapons and shields around her, all of them new and shiny. Her dress felt scratchy and inspecting she discovered she was not in her usually attire but completely dressed in twill. Her ankles felt like they were on fire as she moved, brushing against the soft furs. Her feet were bare and above her ankles were blisters and a purplish red bruises, she reached down to touch one of the blisters and her wrist caught her eye. It too was blistered and had the same sort of bruising. She checked the other one and it was the same. Thirsty, she felt so dry. Her throat felt raw and scratchy. She licked her dry parched lips to try and moisten them. It was too painful to talk, so she began to beat on the side of the wagon. The wagon stopped.
“What you want?” She looked up and there peeking in from between the canvas flap, that covered the opening of the front of the wagon, was a little green female goblin staring at her. Jezze rubbed her throat and whispered water. “I got what you need.” The goblin jumped into the wagon with her and grabbed a flask and handed it to Jezze. “Drink up.”
It was not water but some sweet soothing liquid, a nectar of some sort. The goblin stood staring at her, smiling and rubbing her hands together. Jezze scooted back across the furs into the corner of the wagon, holding onto the flask. “Keep it” the goblin turned and jumped back up through the flap and the wagon started rolling again. Jezze sat there for a few minutes and then slowly crawled to the front of the wagon. She pulled herself up and let go with the most forceful Psychic Scream that she could with her sore throat. The goblin jumped and seem to fly off the seat of the wagon, rolling when she hit the ground, and then took off running. The scream caused the horse pulling the wagon to panic and it burst into a gallop throwing Jezze down backwards in the wagon.
“Wake up, hon, your dreaming.” Apollion was shaking her.