<div class="floatright">(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/566896805904777217/648070034824101888/d3da4e5fca42b72282785c719bc8ccff.png)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;">Hazeel sank to the floor and placed his hands against his temples. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he whimpered and tried to ignore the sounds of the sailors screaming, or Azalea's honeyed but ultimately crazy voice. Her voice was like the smoothest poison that buried into his ears. So easy to hear, but painful to process. He didn't even know how he could defend himself against her voice or these screams, a man of violence and action having it yanked away from him and being completely defenseless against her assault on his mind.<br/><br/>And unfortunately, the moment that he was able to fight, he couldn't. He roared as the seaweed wrapped around his ankles and wrists. Even as his muscles clenched to try and pull away from their grip, his movements felt like they had been slowed by the "water" inside of the hut. Just like his words being quieted by the "water", his arms and legs fought half as powerful as they could, and he ended up pinned on his knees as unknown but massive slimy grass climbed on top of him and pulled him into the floor. He roared in fear and pain, feeling something dislodging out of place as he fought, only to be pulled into the floor. Hazeel lost consciousness there, darkness obscuring his vision and his mind as his brain tried to pull him into a mental break to try and heal the damage that Azalea was doing to him.<br/><br/><em>Hazeel fails to break free: 1d6 + 1d10 = 8.<br/><br/>Hazeel is now Horrified and Injured.</em></span>