SpiritOfWrath

“Conquerors. Killers. Almost worse than the Dwarves.”

“Yes, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the Gorin were the ones to deliver you.”

“Who knows? The Tyrant tried hard to crush the myths.” ”Maybe. Maybe not. The Tyrant himself wasn’t able to escape her manipulations.”

You can hear the conversations of the others.

“Oh, the Healer won’t kill you. You’ll just wish she did.”

Teshan follows, amused. “Are we ready? Now, if we get swarmed, I can perform a mass plague purge, but it will be tiring, and my bond with my patron is strained right now.” He looked down. “

“I mean I have no idea how that could happen.” “Myths. Legends. Of a time before the Render molded the world into planets.” “The deep folk? I would be offended, but it’s true.” He hesitated. “I’m also a prisoner, slotted for death. But… I hear things. I believe… all you newcomers with the brand on yer head, the Healer was here when you came in. And she personally wanted to interrogate you.” “That what you think? I’m a prisoner. Slotted for death, like I told the other guy.” “Well, yall all have that brand on your head.” The slot was not big enough for that, but he was able to see a blank hallway.

“Hmmm… that sounds more like the old gods.” There was a conversation going on outside the cell - a gruff voice. “Quite interesting…”

They had been burned from his body, now useless. “Huh. Then I have no idea where you’re from. Do you know how you got here?”

“A second stranger? Interesting.” @Spark of Hope The voice hesitated. “Really?”

The voice stopped for a secon. “It sounds, friend, like you aren’t from here. Have you heard of the Gorin?”

The voice gave a small laugh. “Another elf! And you haven’t heard of the dwarves?” It was just slightly suspicious. A laugh, rough and boisterous. “So you come from there, do you? Interesting. The Gorin are an intergalactic empire of twins-cursed humans that recently just fell. Left us to clean up their mess, they did.”

The voice grunted. “You’re lucky, then. I find them insufferable. From where do you come from?” @TwinStorm The voice, gruff and still exasperated, replied, slightly amused. “The home world of the Tyrant. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Gorin?”

@Kaladin Stormcursed heard him. Someone - extremely exasperated, replied. “Quiet, please. I just want some peace.” @Spark of Hope ”It’s the Dwarves high security prison. You know why you were taken?”

She grunted. “Probably some new policy made by those culture-less dwarves.”

“Hhhmm.. saw the brand on your face. Where does one get that sort of thing?” @TwinStorm Actually, his wounds seemed to be healing. However, there was no answer.

…Has Oragne not even posted here? ITS TWO PAGES?

Her cell was one in a long hall, each uniform. A voice came from one of the cells. “Are you new? We haven’t had a new person in… in so long. Usually they just… they execute them, the twins-cursed Dwarves.”

There was a slot at his door, two fingerwidths thick, which he could open - through it, Cep saw a hall of other cells. There was a slot at her door through which she could see.

A blinding flash of light, a feeling of flame creeping along your bodies. Reality pulls apart, and you are left falling through a void, nothing visible. As you fall, you feel a brand emblazoned upon your forehead, pain excruciating. Suddenly, the sensation of falling stops. You feel as if you are stuck within a terrible syrup, burning your flesh. A vision of a river of fire comes before you, and you find yourself swept up by it, tumbling amid the flame. A hand catches you, pulling you out as another flare of light leaves you unconscious. You wake, individually, in sterile, white cells, a simple bed to one side and a place to relieve yourself on the other. A door blocks your exit. You are wearing simple jumpsuits, possessions taken from you. There is not a mark on your body. Except the brand, on your forehead.

@Spark of Hope They soon found a room in which the darkness was near absolute. A small light emanated from Jakob, dispelling all their exhaustion. @Argenti You’re welcome. The Eternal King looked at him sideways. “You’re dead god giving us this light?”

It is the Slumber. This… this is the right place.