Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
You wander down the hallway, trying to work out the strange feelings. There is something about Morgana that seems familiar, as if you've seen her before, before you came here. As your mind whirls with unanswered questions, you suddenly realize; you are approaching the revelers. You can hear the wild music just a little distance off. You quickly turn to walk away from it. It was most likely luck that saved you from being discovered by Morgana; she seems to dislike the company of her court, but the court itself would most likely be able to tell your difference in behavior.
Suddenly, two great hands clamp down on your shoulders, their skin tone matching your own. "Look who we 'ave 'ere", says an animalistic voice." You turn around quickly. A pair of trolls stand, glaring at you. "A new troll," says the other, smiling deviously. "Know what that mean, 'ey?" Before you can react, the two lunge forward and grab you by the arms. You struggle, but they hold fast, keeping you from escaping. "What are you doing!?" you yell, and an unfamiliar feeling starts to creep into you, like fire to a gas light. You feel the urge to tear the throat out of something. The trolls tighten their grip on you. "Can' have ye runnin' about without yer 'markings'", one says, and you detect a note of pleasure in the word 'markings'. They drag you into a back room. From the moment you lay eyes on the walls, you redouble your efforts to escape, for the walls are stained red, various bones hanging like decorations on the walls, as well as many bloodstained knives and pokers. Various torture devices are littered about, giving you the impression that this is not a place many people came back from.
The two trolls throw you onto an iron table, and quickly your arms and legs are strapped down before they rip off your shirt. An unfamiliar face walks into a view, one you wish had remained unfamiliar. It looks like one of the ogres, yet slightly smaller, more toned, but a hard and cruel face, the lips curled in a crude and devilish smile. "So, what shall I do with this one", it says, as you see in its hands are two darkly stained knives. "Do the spirals, they're always good to watch", says one of the trolls, and for the first time, you notice the scarified tatoos that cover their bodies; one carved like a dragon across his chest, the other with spirals. "Nah, too many spirals already", says the hulking figure. "I want to try something new. Saw a new design in the picture from the last tourist that was here, thought I'd give that a shot." The troll grins evilly. "As long as it's good and painful", he says. The figure approaches you, brandishing the knives.
Pain streaks across your body, and your head is filled with the sounds of your own screams, with a terrible longing to rip the flesh from your torturer, as he cuts away at yours. Even more painful is the black liquid he pours into the wounds, causing them to burn intensely. He then takes a poker from a tray of burning ashes, shining red hot, and streaks it across the wounds, the stench of burning flesh filling the air. At this point, the loss of blood and continual pain finally overwhelms you, and you fall into darkness...
Written by Dream Weaver (edited by wanderer)
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