Tfft tfft tfft tfft
tfftfftfftftftftftftftftf
This was madness. No, it made madness seem pretty rational. This was pure chaotic insanity.
What were they thinking? “Let's just climb into this ancient machine hundreds of feet below the surface of the ocean in a tower infested with undead and denizens from nightmares!” Maybe the poison was still clouding their judgment. Maybe the powers of that demonic sea beast had affected their minds. Maybe after everything they had been through up to this point, the idea of loading themselves into a mechanisms of a giant crossbow and getting shot head first into an endless black abyss seemed like a nice vacation. One thing was for certain. It was too late to turn around.
Tftftftftftftftftftftftftftftftftf
Somehow the weight of the falling water against the slanted metal plates was pushing them faster than any horse could dream of running. Malcear didn't understand the science at work here, but he was not enjoying the resulting reactions in his digestive track. If you've never vomited hard tack and dry rations, avoid it at all cost. He couldn't even turn his head to see if his allies were in the same turmoil. The speed and fear and darkness were all too much. He wasn't afraid. He was never afraid of anything, but he was overpowered with sensations.
Tfttftffftftftftftftftftftftffftftftftftfftf
His knuckles gripped white against the walls of the contraption. Cold sea water splashed against his face and armor. He was being gently choked as the weight of his cloak flapped heavily behind him. The swim they had taken did a good job of cleaning most of the Dryder and Naga blood from his clothing, but the sea water made the dagger wounds he had received (in abundance) sting to the bone. This was the most uncomfortable he had been in his entire cloistered life. He longed for the beatings and bruises of his sword-brothers. He longed for the incendiary disciplinary practices of the fire priests of his Goddess. Even the dreams he often had of being chained up and tortured seems a small comfort in comparison. The one thing though, that made things unbearable was the fear of never again seeing the stars at night.
Tftftftftftftftftftftftftftftf
Malcear prayed.
This was madness. No, it made madness seem pretty rational. This was pure chaotic insanity.
What were they thinking? “Let's just climb into this ancient machine hundreds of feet below the surface of the ocean in a tower infested with undead and denizens from nightmares!” Maybe the poison was still clouding their judgment. Maybe the powers of that demonic sea beast had affected their minds. Maybe after everything they had been through up to this point, the idea of loading themselves into a mechanisms of a giant crossbow and getting shot head first into an endless black abyss seemed like a nice vacation. One thing was for certain. It was too late to turn around.
Tftftftftftftftftftftftftftftftftf
Somehow the weight of the falling water against the slanted metal plates was pushing them faster than any horse could dream of running. Malcear didn't understand the science at work here, but he was not enjoying the resulting reactions in his digestive track. If you've never vomited hard tack and dry rations, avoid it at all cost. He couldn't even turn his head to see if his allies were in the same turmoil. The speed and fear and darkness were all too much. He wasn't afraid. He was never afraid of anything, but he was overpowered with sensations.
Tfttftffftftftftftftftftftftffftftftftftfftf
His knuckles gripped white against the walls of the contraption. Cold sea water splashed against his face and armor. He was being gently choked as the weight of his cloak flapped heavily behind him. The swim they had taken did a good job of cleaning most of the Dryder and Naga blood from his clothing, but the sea water made the dagger wounds he had received (in abundance) sting to the bone. This was the most uncomfortable he had been in his entire cloistered life. He longed for the beatings and bruises of his sword-brothers. He longed for the incendiary disciplinary practices of the fire priests of his Goddess. Even the dreams he often had of being chained up and tortured seems a small comfort in comparison. The one thing though, that made things unbearable was the fear of never again seeing the stars at night.
Tftftftftftftftftftftftftftftf
Malcear prayed.
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