Pain, Panic and Pleasantries

I do not remember things as they are, or perhaps more accurately, as they occurred.

No, it is a jumble of distorted images, blinding pain, confusion, and unmeasured panic. That much, I do remember. The panic over the pain as I stumbled sightless through the black. How did I end up in here? I really can not recall. It only mildly dawns on me, that I have stumbled past a pile of pillows. Pillows? Really? I know that should mean something, but it simply can not for now. I must GET OUT! A corridor of doors...pain, aching, agonizing, mind flaying pain, and...a bedchamber? and then..another? I do not understand.

Get out...I must get out. Where am I? Storm Father...help me. Back past the luxury, the fabric, the musty smell of dank stone beneath...back...out...there is no way out down here, I must go back. Sightless again, wandering, Gods above please...show me the way! And then....I fall.

I am so weak, so utterly close to my last breath I can feel Morhaig's chill hand over my heart. I see the Oasis, that familiar warmth...it would be so easy to just drift into that calm place again. And so I lie there, in the rain, surrounded by...sodden, grey soot and burned out boards. Where am I now? I can not even put that much together as I sway back and forth between the worlds.

It dawns on me eventually, that I feel as bad as I should under these circumstances, and that I have something to help that close at hand. It takes me a good long time to struggle free of the backpack upon my shoulder to claim the tiny vial of relief from within and tip it to my lips. Ahhh, that rush of health, it only brings me to barely functional, but a damned sight closer to survival than just a few moments ago. I will take it.

It is only then that I can look around and realize, somehow, I am in the slums, behind the barricades, and the burned out shell of a once bustling neighbourhood, is utterly deserted. I try, I really do, but I simply can not make heads nor tails of the fact I am here. I can barely find my own feet let alone figure out how I got here. My feet...yes, that's it. One foot before the other, moving, that's a start! It seems like hours I wander, looking for a way out. It probably is, but I can not be sure, my head does not seem to be able to lock onto anything for long before it drifts away from my attention again, and only what is right before my nose registers.

A barrier, of hastily constructed logs bars my way. It is the same with every street. Where am I again? Oh...right...home is on the other side. So..find a way over. There is a wall, half collapsed, but, the debris is piled just so, that if I apply what little strength I have, I could scramble over. Still, it takes me entirely too long to figure out just how to do such a simple task, and when I finally manage it, I still fall to the cobblestones, flat on my back. No one sees.

I remember...arguing, so...angry. A blur of tirrish lies and skrel'eth barbarian logic being spewed at me, all blending into a poisonous soup of disjointed betrayal. The fields! The road! I am where I should be! That brings such a flood of relief to me it is impossible to describe. I stagger down the road, just so happy to have it beneath my boots again, that I barely even notice when a familiar form appears before me. I am certain he must have caught me when I collapsed, but to be honest, I can not say for sure.