Role

Chapter 2

Sekhnah had a strong sense of taste and it was with that her ability to relive
previous experiences was possible. The Saurian Witch was gifted and cursed
with magick that was triggered via altruism. By consuming one's weh, she was
able to heal them of mild ailments and injury. A priceless gem one would say,
a gift of rarity amongst Thar-Eris. It was for this reason she needed to be
caged, seen, used, and consumed. The wood-elves near the swamps and saurian
village believed so. As they fought their wars, to protect their home- they
kept her bound. Her daily encounters required just enough physical nourishment
to keep her alive but dulled; her body an emaciated mass of scales and flesh.
Her magical nourishment was over-satiated with the weh of her captors-
feeding upon their wicked deeds and healing them in return and granting vigor
to their wounded bodies.

So she consumed.

Was consumed.

Healed.

Plotted.

Lusted over the day she would find freedom.

Freedom did not come to her, but a primordial ancient did. His wisdom
nourishes Sekhnah's withering resolve. Upon the night of a blood moon, his
whispers filled her chamber. She dismissed it as hallucinations, perhaps
dehydration setting in. But it only grew in intensity, strength, and
dominance. A booming voice that left tendrils of a low growl in its absence.
For payment to the Ancients of the Hunt- she would be granted strength. She
was to become the hunger and the fury of the Dark Ancients paying blood tithe
to Thar-Eris.


She, of course obliged.

And

Upon that day, with newfound vigor, she found herself dancing in the pale
moonlight.