"Where there is the adequate execution of responsibility, there is hope even in the depths of the throes of death"
~
Factions of Darkness,
Under-ground Oubliettes of Slavery,
The Kingdom of Hyll-Decanta,
Warm After noon,
Second Wednesday of the Second month,
Fiftieth Year of the Reign of King Adon Vericus IV
Imogen struggled against her infirmities to gain a strong grasp of her situation. There was no time for rest. She needed to instantly dress her emotions and frights and take control of what was left within her span of competence.
She blinked several times and looked around. The damsel whose orange hair bore the hues of chest nuts in the lack of light could only solely recollect that her last conscious situation had consisted of a kidnap.
