[ Deuce can't quite remember how he got here, but he knows what drew him to this place. He'd found himself trapped in the Dwarf Mines again, when an echoing cry carried through to him. At first, he thought it was just the rage-filled howl of the creature they'd had to fend off once before, but he soon recognizes there's something different about it.
He's heard shouts of anger enough times in his life. He's heard guys yelling in pain when he talks with his fists. But this... This sound seems to echo throughout his surroundings, sending a shudder through them and resonating in his bones. And all too soon, Deuce realizes that he's never heard such terrible cries of agony in his life. It frightens him, the primal intensity of that sound, even as he begins to follow it, compelled by something he couldn't explain.
His surroundings seem to melt away around him, one darkness giving way to another, and all too soon he finds himself in an unfamiliar room. It looks like something happened here, he thinks, as he surveys his alien surroundings. And he almost questions whether someone or something has already put an end to those haunting screams of pain.
That is, until a voice draws his attention to a figure rather conspicuously strapped to a table. How could he possibly have missed that? He jolts with a startled yelp. Was it this guy? It doesn't look like he's got a mark on him... Yet the vicious implements arrayed near the table he's confined to suggest otherwise. Could he have been healed by magic? Healed, only to be hurt more? The thought sinks into his gut like a stone.
Whoever was using those, they'll be back, won't they? ]
We've gotta get going- [ It's a thought given voice, rather than a true proposal, as Deuce's concern propels him further into the room. He's quick, by human standards, this boy in a black uniform suit with a black spade situated around one eye. The worried, tense line of his brow is genuine as he looks the guy over, sizing up his restraints. But he's no great thinker, and he quickly gives up in favor of brute force, wrestling to loose the man's restraints with gloved hands. ] Just hold on, this stuff's stubborn.
9.3
He's heard shouts of anger enough times in his life. He's heard guys yelling in pain when he talks with his fists. But this... This sound seems to echo throughout his surroundings, sending a shudder through them and resonating in his bones. And all too soon, Deuce realizes that he's never heard such terrible cries of agony in his life. It frightens him, the primal intensity of that sound, even as he begins to follow it, compelled by something he couldn't explain.
His surroundings seem to melt away around him, one darkness giving way to another, and all too soon he finds himself in an unfamiliar room. It looks like something happened here, he thinks, as he surveys his alien surroundings. And he almost questions whether someone or something has already put an end to those haunting screams of pain.
That is, until a voice draws his attention to a figure rather conspicuously strapped to a table. How could he possibly have missed that? He jolts with a startled yelp. Was it this guy? It doesn't look like he's got a mark on him... Yet the vicious implements arrayed near the table he's confined to suggest otherwise. Could he have been healed by magic? Healed, only to be hurt more? The thought sinks into his gut like a stone.
Whoever was using those, they'll be back, won't they? ]
We've gotta get going- [ It's a thought given voice, rather than a true proposal, as Deuce's concern propels him further into the room. He's quick, by human standards, this boy in a black uniform suit with a black spade situated around one eye. The worried, tense line of his brow is genuine as he looks the guy over, sizing up his restraints. But he's no great thinker, and he quickly gives up in favor of brute force, wrestling to loose the man's restraints with gloved hands. ] Just hold on, this stuff's stubborn.