[Voice] In which a sour old elf is lost.

[asouroldelf]

[The device pops staticly, a few times, as she taps it, bounces it in her hand. There’s an odd distortion as she shakes it briskly, and finally a scraping of teeth against the mic and then a very loud and very close yelp as she bites it. The voice that speaks after a pause and a sharp intake of breath is a grumble.]'Kay, so...don't know where I am

Comments

[Voice]

[sorighteously]

My lady?

[Voice]

[asouroldelf]

[After a faint shift of leather and the sound of steel clicking against steel, there a pause. She says something, but the mutter is indistinguishable. At first distant, her voice is suddenly close, but not too loud. Even without the grumble it holds some gravel. And is more than a little curt.]

Who are you? And what is this thing?

[Voice]

[sorighteously]

My name is Zelda, my lady. I am a healer.

A device used for communication here. All of the residents have one.

[Voice]

[asouroldelf]

[She pauses, possibly thrown off by the title or the information, but the hesitation is brief. And her tone is still clipped.]

Where am I, then?

[suitcaseonails]

You'll find that there's no going back from this place, dear.

[Voice]

[asouroldelf]

Yeah, who says?

[Voice]

[suitcaseonails]

[a soft, throaty chuckle]

It's not like we haven't tried to leave, dear.

[Voice]

[asouroldelf]

Guess we'll have to see about that. Any idea why people are getting brought here in the first place?