Second Entry
[It's not dark, not really. There's an abundance of lights hanging from the grand ceilings, yet vision of much of the stone building is obscured and covered in heavy, unrealistically deep shadows. A woman stands in shiny black armor so bulky and oddly shaped she might not have been recognizably female, except the helmet has been dropped to the ground and is slowly spinning in place.
A ginger woman kneels not far from where she stands, curled around the form of a man. Their faces are obscured by her hair and the way she's curled around him, but her screams are sharp and clear. Although none of the words she speaks seem to be any recognizable dialect, the shouts are the only sounds in the building, and they reverberate from every angle of the room. Another figure, too far into shadows to make out details, kneels a short distance away, head hung and silent.
The woman still standing shows none of the confidence and swagger of before. She's young, perhaps half the age of before, and her expression is a curious shade of cold shock and disbelief. Rather than confidence, her wide eyes show only horror and...resignation.
The shadows at the edges of the room slowly take the form of faceless guards, and begin to approach in sluggish quickstep, silent as all else but those agonized cries. Despite one approaching clearly within her field of vision, the now-young woman makes no move to react or avoid them. For all that she reacts to the angry gestures of one, she might as well be a statue.]
A ginger woman kneels not far from where she stands, curled around the form of a man. Their faces are obscured by her hair and the way she's curled around him, but her screams are sharp and clear. Although none of the words she speaks seem to be any recognizable dialect, the shouts are the only sounds in the building, and they reverberate from every angle of the room. Another figure, too far into shadows to make out details, kneels a short distance away, head hung and silent.
The woman still standing shows none of the confidence and swagger of before. She's young, perhaps half the age of before, and her expression is a curious shade of cold shock and disbelief. Rather than confidence, her wide eyes show only horror and...resignation.
The shadows at the edges of the room slowly take the form of faceless guards, and begin to approach in sluggish quickstep, silent as all else but those agonized cries. Despite one approaching clearly within her field of vision, the now-young woman makes no move to react or avoid them. For all that she reacts to the angry gestures of one, she might as well be a statue.]