<div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v245/digitalpirana/sithesis_zps337570f4.jpg)</div><br/>The whisper from her cracked lips was like an opiate. He opened his jaws and let the ecstasy of her vengeful heart escape him in a low hiss. Something uncoiled in the depths of his soul, awakened by the fate of Maeryn renouncing her Goddess, it was made of teeth and hatred and after a lifetime it opened an eye...<br/><br/><em>"She doesn't hear you. But I answer..."</em><br/><br/>He raises his hand slowly to her face, from elbow to finger tips its slick with thick, red blood, as if freshly dipped in an Orc corpse. She can smell the copper in it and feel the heat of it, the first warm thing she's felt here in weeks as he spreads the ichor across cheek and mouth.<br/><br/><em>"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."<br/></em><br/>He slowly drives his bone blade into the earth in front of her, letting go of it.<br/><br/><em>"Go back to sleep."<br/></em><br/><strong>The vision is over. When next she opens her eyes she's lying at the base of the beam, completely untethered. The warmth of blood on her face remains - she's lying in a pool of Orc blood that runs from rich veins of her dead jailor. <br/><br/>A glistening hand print of red stains one of the walls, a streaked trail dragged from the print towards a pathway leading somewhere into, or out of the mountain.</strong>