Paramours of Slaanesh: Incarna - Chp 1

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In darkness, the weight of something hard and cold cut against harm flesh. As Vara Cirna opened her elven eyes, there were as a drunkard's, blurred and unfocused. Time past, and with it, she realized her peril. The druchii lay atop hard stone and moldering hay; chains and manacles digging into her wrists and ankles. Through the metal bars of a nearby window, the stiped light of Mannslieb peered into the room, just across from the confines of Vara's cell.

[Alright, describe yourself, what does Vara remember?]

Shaking my long raven hair from my eyes, trying to clear them and figure out how I landed here. I look at the manacles, seeing if my slender limbs can escape their confines, failing that, testing the slack of the chain, finding my height cramped in these binds. I sit with my back to the wall, trying to meditate, trying to discover how this happened.

I remember being at sea, the boat rocking with the waves. Wulfgar had 'booked' us passage, forcing me to stow out in the cargo hold, unable to see the horizon. I remember talking with Qik and Morgot snored away in the corner, trying to weasel myself into her confidences. Then the boat hit something, causing me to stumble down onto the floor I was desperately trying to avoid. I try to listen, hearing the sounds of combat from above. I crouch down, pulling out the cold dagger, and I wait for the problem to arrive. And then it gets fuzzy.

[Take a beat]

Your mind began to clear as the last of your sleep began to fade away. With it came the telltale signs of movement from behind the mouldering wooden door that was the room's only exit. And perhaps the muffled sounds of conversation. You then felt the pull of your familiar, Semee, though it was dull and distant, like she was nowhere and everywhere all at once...

Not to be found in such a weak state, I shift to my knees, composing myself and trying to look as unperturbed as possible, despite this foul human clothing I must wear. Semee. What's going on?

Ph...vrffrf...mh...

That was the best you could make out as you heard what snatches of the muse's thoughts there were. Like ribbons of liquid color bubbling to the surface of a babbling brook.

You could hear the clinking of metal from behind the door, now; a key turning inside the lock soon after.

Just my luck. Why can't I just catch a break for once? Leaning back to shake my head, getting as much hair out of my face as I can, I make do with what I can. "Come in." I call out, teasingly.

The door swung open to a loud groaning of its iron hinges. Two figures entered, dressed in padded armor and chainmail helmets. Humans, armed with cudgels. Eyeing you, they began talking to each other in Tilean - you knew as much from your time with the Strigani.

Ugh, how many languages do humans need? I sigh, looking at them. "At least I know I made it to the right place." I keep myself composed and in charge, despite the situation. "Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?"

[Hmm... roll Wits + Empathy.]

[0S]

For the life of you, you just can't figure out what their intentions are. Much like a staring contest with a Cold One. Are they angry? No. Happy? Well...

Regardless, one of them opens the door to your cell. The other standing watch with a hand on his cudgel.

"Hi, yes, hello." I fumble around for the right human words. "Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?" I gives the men a once over, trying to give off a signature look of superiority. Its a challenge, since I'm unused to being the one in chains, caged.

[Roll Presence + Expression, with a -1 from previous failure, and a -1 from circumstance.]

[0S]

If you made an impression, neither human showed it. Instead, the one inside the cell with you began to unfasten his belt and leggings.