Feratil the High Sorceress of the Arcane, Breathless Droplet

Role

Chapter 6

Mystrillania stood at the spirit after she and her companions, Ihol and Feratil, had
once again successfully defended the Refuge from the forces of civilization. Leaning
upon her staff, she flashed her teeth and praised the good work they had done, but
asked if she could have help on one more thing. "Will you help me rediscover vivimancy?"

The ranger had been scouring the earth, and Ihol volunteered to explore the air. Feratil agreed
to aid as well. When asked where she would look, the saurian dragged a claw lightly over her palm.
"That is easy," she said. "In the source of all sra: the water."

Role

Chapter 5

"What does it mean to be free, Feratil?"
Pvask glared at the saurian, exuding the menace that had been in
earlier threats that it was dangerous to have gained his attention.
Despite his claim that there was no right or no wrong answer, every aspect of
his demeanor suggested otherwise.

"Freedom means a recognition that we have choices in all things we do.
Someone who is truly enslaved is unaware that every action they take
is a choice they have made."
The Nightreaver nodded approvingly. "A good answer for a warden.
I might not have to destroy you today. Do you have a faith?"

"I follow my Sra as it flows through Her, and I let it bless me and my
actions as she sees fit."

The Nightreaver frowned. "We are done. Go kill a defiler or something."
Then in a puff of air rushing to fill where he had stood in the ancient grove, he was gone.

Role

Chapter 4

Magic pulsing in the air, through the flesh, through her bones, limning her scales
with sra

Drip.

The essence, her essence, viable, pliable, shifting with each throb of her heart
into what it could be, should be in this moment, expanding beyond what is to what may be
and taking the flesh with it, dragging it through possibility until the manacle falls
to the floor

Drip.

until the floor falls away from her prone form, and she opens her eyes and sees
that life, her life, all life is just water, flowing and shifting and drifting
until the door to her cell seems imaginary and no one on this sphere can
detect the truth that exists just beyond their senses.

Freedom.


Life.

Role

Chapter 3

Drip. Drip.

Her head back on the cold stone, she cherished each drop of life that fell
into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she let go of her ego, her self, and melded
with the unfinished stone, with the darkness, and with her own pulse. Mentally, spiritually,
she reached out and could feel nothing special about the manacle, no essence
that she might persuade to let her slip free. She could feel however the rats, the fungi,
and of course her own flesh. She whispered to it, feeling her pulse quicken and slow
on command.

Soon, yes. Soon. She would escape from this tomb.

Role

Chapter 2

Drip

Drip.

No gaoler, no other prisoners, only the echo of her movements
and the cold dark stone. She found a collection of mushrooms which she harvested, tapping
their edges to let the spores drop onto the stone before she nibbled on them.
The bones of her predecessors she was able to gnaw upon and pull out the dark
treasure of marrow, and to her hunger it was tasty, sweet even.

Lying on her back, she could collect the water that dripped from some unseen spot on
the ceiling where the condensation was gathering, and she resolved to survive.

Why she was here did not matter, only that she would persevere. Yesterday could
not help her in this moment, and tomorrow was only a dream. She must focus on surviving
until escape was possible.

Role

Chapter 1

Drip.
Drip.

Her head was throbbing as she woke up, and her eyes had to adjust to the near
perfect darkness of this stone cell. Her fingers found the bulge on her skull where
she had been bludgeoned, and then she realized that she was as naked as a
hatchling. She feebly called out, and the echoes of her voice were lost
in the dark void.

She shifted her position, and she felt the cold chafe of a manacle on her ankle.
Crawling forward, she extended until she reached the end of her manacle. Flattening out,
she could reach the coarse stone of the wall. Feeling carefully, she found more chains, a few
skeletons, and more dank stone floor.

Darkness.

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