Apr 30, 2019 1:00 am
The light has gone out from your surroundings, but not your soul, these last uncounted days of captivity. Devilry and witchcraft caught you unaware as you found yourself captured and beaten nearly to death by the same giants you had been sent to spy upon. The Margrave of Sterich himself saw fit to select you for the mission, one you had done countless times before. Giants, especially the brutish Hill, were fierce and strong, but dimwitted and easily evaded for one who knew what they were doing; and you did.
How they came upon you with such stealth and surprise, then, could only be explained by devilry and witchcraft. While you were taken daily and questioned by the hideous Hill Giant they called 'Keeper', you could hear faint whispers just out of earshot - for most. A lilting voice perhaps female, perhaps one of fair race, seemed to be the one guiding the questioning. Whoever he or she was, they held sway over the giant, who while viscous and unrelenting, seemed to snap back in fear when the shadowy demon spoke.
The blackness and silence (as well as the well-crafted hand guards) around you prevented your casting most spells, and you learned quickly that spells such as Viscous Mockery only resulted in a needle being shoved through your tongue and lower lip. Your frequent trips to the Keeper's rack allowed you to get a feel for the place below. Guards were stationed about the tunnels, mostly Bugbear though a few orcs padded softly around as well. You spied another race of giant once, a huge monster with flaming orange hair and bright red skin. Unsure if he was a guest or resident, you only saw him that one time.
Meals were few and far between, made up of meager portions of rotted meat and broth, but it sustained you. Eventually you would find your escape. And, when you did...
How they came upon you with such stealth and surprise, then, could only be explained by devilry and witchcraft. While you were taken daily and questioned by the hideous Hill Giant they called 'Keeper', you could hear faint whispers just out of earshot - for most. A lilting voice perhaps female, perhaps one of fair race, seemed to be the one guiding the questioning. Whoever he or she was, they held sway over the giant, who while viscous and unrelenting, seemed to snap back in fear when the shadowy demon spoke.
The blackness and silence (as well as the well-crafted hand guards) around you prevented your casting most spells, and you learned quickly that spells such as Viscous Mockery only resulted in a needle being shoved through your tongue and lower lip. Your frequent trips to the Keeper's rack allowed you to get a feel for the place below. Guards were stationed about the tunnels, mostly Bugbear though a few orcs padded softly around as well. You spied another race of giant once, a huge monster with flaming orange hair and bright red skin. Unsure if he was a guest or resident, you only saw him that one time.
Meals were few and far between, made up of meager portions of rotted meat and broth, but it sustained you. Eventually you would find your escape. And, when you did...
OOC:
This post is for Ambrosia. Others may read, but not post, please.