Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
The balcony looks much smaller, the table with the spark more level with you. You raise your hands to your eyes. The first thing that greets your view is a long, dark nail, curved into a sharp and dangerous claw, glinting in the moonlight just as the ebony of the bed. Following it down, it meets green flesh, a rich hue of jade in this light. As you view your whole hand, you see that the fingers are fewer. Two fingers and a thumb, thick with muscles. Your wrists almost disappear into forearms roped in muscle, and biceps toned like steel cords. You run your hand along the smooth skin; the muscles are rock hard, like chiseled steel.
You press your fingers to your face, which feels elongated, to find smooth flesh; but then, two large, rock-hard teeth that extend from your lower lip and past your eyes, just outside your line of vision. Your nose extends further than usual, swept level with a strong chin that seems even with it. You feel upwards, and discover two long and pointed ears extending back from your head, passing through a great mane of flowing hair. You look into the floor of the balcony, the polished ebony surface reflecting your image like a darkened mirror.
A troll. You are a troll. But then... there are some differences. Not in appearance, and yet it is. You lack the 'look' of a troll; your eyes are not hard like theirs, lacking the animalistic qualities that flowed through their visage. Your hair appears well kept, almost silky in appearance instead of wild and unkempt, though it billows out, a rich and vibrant shade of red, like lambent flame. Without those fearsome qualities, you find your appearance is actually quite fair to look upon.
Suddenly, you feel the presence of eyes on you, and you freeze. "So another intruder joins my court," an all too familiar voice says. You do not need to look to know it is Morgana herself. "Stand", she commands you. Thoughts run through your head, fear uppermost. You hesitate, and Morgana seems to sense it. "Stand, I say", she declares, and you rise to your feet, your back to her. You block out your thoughts, focusing instead on a point on the horizon. You mustn't let her into your mind; if she has such power. "Turn around," the voice commands.
You slowly turn around, and your eyes fall upon the Queen of Darkness herself, but this time... there is something else that you haven't noticed before, in all the other times you've been here. You look into her eyes. They seem empty, or rather, hollow. As she looks upon you, you see something, just for a moment, like an ember struggling to ignite, but too weak. You stare into each other's eyes, and you feel something welling within you like a spring, a deep sadness, a longing unfamiliar to you. You drop to one knee almost uncontrollably, bowing to the Dark Queen. "My Lady," you say. Your voice, like your appearance, lacks the animalistic qualities that trolls posess, and is rich in timbre.
A long silence ensues. Finally, her voice is heard again, the same harsh tone... yet, somehow, it seems softened. "Leave my chamber", she commands, and walks past you. You rise and look back to her for a moment, then walk into the hallway. The doors close quickly as if by magic, and you start wandering back along the hallway, your heart and head confused by thoughts and feelings that make your brain ache.
Written by Dream Weaver (edited by wanderer)
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