Gradually, the void of black warped into something vaguely familiar.

Shadows danced along the cracked plaster walls of a bedroom as candles burned in oil lanterns over the doorway. The pungent smell of cool, rising damp wafted into the Telgradian’s nose, stirring his senses in a way he would have preferred to not have experienced. As he slowly opened his eyes and adjusted his focus, Shinsou could see that the strange voice that had jarred the Telgradian from his slumber belonged to a strange face. Framed by dark hair the colour of tar, a woman peered at him from over the other side of the room. Her chair blocked his view of the door.

How many hours had passed since he had passed out, the Telgradian wondered? As Shinsou sat up, only the irises of the woman in his room stood out on first glance. Across her lap lay a blade that she gripped just a little tighter as his eyes steered towards it. The Telgradian briefly sat up before glancing towards the window and began to take in the reality of today; a freezing cold, snowy dawn. Sleet began pelting the glass, and suddenly the view of the looming expanse through the flawed transparency was distorted by thick streaks of white.

The Telgradian stared icily at it all, thinking upon the significance of these things. Where was he? Nowhere friendly, judging by the climate outside and the way his female guard kept her weapon close and her grip on it tense. He could feel the weight of his queries inside him, tearing at his hazy mind.

“Am I your prisoner?”

The question crumbled from his mind as his eyes fell upon a second bed. Upon it, well within his reach, were assorted pieces of his inventory. Included were his swords Stygian and The Goat. His buckler shield, Mephistopheles, lay atop his folded drakescale coat. They were the only things he recognised in this bizarre situation. It occurred to him quickly that if he were someone’s prisoner here, wherever here was, the guard wasn’t doing a very good job of securing him. This led Shinsou to believe something else entirely was happening to him. Surely, no-one was stupid enough to capture someone and leave their weapons out on the bed next to them.

"I don't take prisoners." The lady's retort was weighted with a cold, matter-of-fact undertone that left very little room for doubt.

Unhindered, and unchallenged by his keeper, Shinsou rose from the bed. He hobbled slightly to the window he had been looking out of before, rolling his tongue over his teeth and clicking it in bemusement as his golden eyes fell upon the nameless whitescape.

“Interesting. If I am not a prisoner here, and you are not my guard, then why do you cling to your sword as tightly as you do? Is there something about me that concerns you?" The Telgradian thought aloud, turning his head slightly so that the woman was just in the corner of his eyesight. "...and If I am not your captive, just what am I, and how did I get to this desolate place?"