Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160303163426/@comment-26446054-20160312173220

The rush of blood and a faint heartbeat rose in Brennus, darkness around his eyes. The stench of death filled his nose, but he was more concerned about what had happened. He felt dry blood that had gathered on his leg and back, yet he didn't remember surviving the attack by... Wolves.

What was once a river was mud beneath him, and so he began to crawl out of the pile, the man's hair filthy and unkempt on his scarred, bloody face.

After a short while of pushing against rough flesh and clothes, Brennus felt cool air pull at his skin, sunlight glaring at his eyes from where he lay. A small amount of water passed underneath his hands; remains of the river.

Straightening up, he wondered how he was alive. Staring at his hands, Brennus saw his skin was not torn or decomposed, somehow. It was awfully pale.

Finally, a more sensible question occurred to him.

"By Akatosh, where am I?"