Role

Chapter 2

My head throbbed and my eyes ached from the vicious abundance of light in the room.
I closed my eyes, and I strained to hear who else might be in the room. A shuffling noise,
hard leather against a dirt floor, a rustle of fabric. There was this scent, too, a musky
odor, the pungent sweat of a male laden with the smell of old age. I slowly slipped my
hand down my side, feeling for my knife.

''A conjie, fargin 'ell, ain neh likely bein done that to 'im, as me wipin yer arse wi' me
beard, Drillmaster.''

''This is what Tahren reported,'' a silken voice responded. ''A mage's blood has sanctified
his soul.''

''Well it wer'n neh conjie that bit its beak inta 'im. An the size of tha 'ole in 'is shoulda an
the feva o tha poison in that holy blood o 'is speaks o the munsters o the Great Dark.''

''He is one of ours now, Master Rihald. Patch him up properly, and send him to me when
he is fit for duty.'' The sounds of the room swirled away into fever dreams of my
family chasing after me through the underdark.