Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
For a few seconds you gawp in the doorway. This sure as hell doesn't look like the draughty, grotty old room you were last in, even though its in exactly the same place. Well, it does a little, but it seems to have grown by an order of magnitude. You're having trouble seeing the ceiling, which has become some high, impossible arch overhead. You notice vast rectangular tracts of heavy material hanging down, catching light from somewhere up above. The werewolf, apparently unfazed by this, gives you an ungentle shove. You totter forwards onto a strip of plush carpet which extends for about half a mile. You can't escape the unnerving feeling that there are things in the walls of the room, casting odd, slowly moving shadows.
At the other end of the circular chamber sits a large, impressive looking throne. There's a silent rank of creatures around it (the ones you saw before, you note dimly in passing) but they part around the carpet in one synchronised movement, and you get a clear look. It's not one of those fancy, frilly, twirly-bit festooned jokes that royalty seem to indulge in. This one seems to have been hewn out of black ice and bleached bone, or possibly the room was excavated around it. It's the kind of throne that inspires fear and an urgent desire to be loyal. Emporers sit on thrones like this. Often with their swords still unsheathed on their laps.
In this case, the vision sitting calmly on this edifice makes you stutter to a halt and gape. Whereas the witch was an old crone, this woman... your limited vocabulary fails you. Tall and slender, she sits on the throne like Judgement. Her skin is arctic pale, the faintest tones only shown up by her robe, so white as to be almost blue. Dazzlingly blonde hair is pulled back way from her elegant face, falling behind her in a coil, a two inch thick rope that hangs to her waist. Her eyes... you blink, and stare into vicious green, and at the same time notice the very faintest suggestion of crow's feet at the edges. She has the witch's eyes.
When you finally reach the edge of the throne, the witch gives a small smile, confidence and power blowing off her like an icy wind. You shiver slightly. The witch notices this, and her smile increases a notch.
"Good. I'm glad to see that my latest creation has learned respect." She stands; a slow, graceful unfolding that would put peacocks to shame. One hand gestures to the assembled creatures. You notice a glint of light from a heavy ring on her index finger. "Do you see these, your fellow menials?"
Your brow creases a little. "Yes." This intelligence thing is becoming a bit of a drag. She turns her head to you, and walks in a slow circle around you as she talks. All of the other creatures tremble and back away a little as she passes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the werewolf lurking at the back.
"Aptly put. They all have a task to perform at my bidding. And it is time for you to be set yours, my intellingent bull." Your brow wrinkles again as you try and work out just what she meant by that. Did you see a flash of mockery in her eyes? She returns to the throne and sits on it in just as controlled and regal movement as when she stood.
"I have decided to honour you, minotaur. You are to be my..."
Written by Lupine
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