Hsssssssโฆ
The airlocked pod released with a hissing groan, a groan mirrored by its once captive inhabitant as she came to with a start. Wyll Ravengard braced one hand against her forehead, brows furrowed with the beginning of a wicked headache. The other pushed against the side of the pod, propping herself up. Blinking the double vision out of her piercing eyes, the renowned monster hunter surveyed her surroundings warily. The grotesque chamber - an understatement, what with the walls akin to stomach lining and strange viscera ligaments connecting structures with jagged, ominous edges - was severely damaged on one side. Flame lapped away at the onyx-hued ground made of some indeterminate material; Wyll grimaced with disgust as she took a step forward, and said ground squished beneath her boots. In her years of pursuing deadly foes all along the Sword Coast, she certainly has had no shortage of experience braving the elements and encountering all sorts of unpleasant situations, but this was extra gross even by her standards.
Trapped as she was, she had little knowledge of what transpired in or around the nautiloid vessel, but regardless of the why, the what was imminently clear. She was free, or, will be, just as soon as she could find her way out of this godforsaken vessel. As much as I could ever be free without breaking that thrice-damned infernal pactโฆ Forcibly biting back the untimely streak of cynicism, she forced herself to focus on the here and now. She was still clad in her gear from before the abduction - good - and in the dim light, the ebony of her figure-hugging jerkin melded ever so well into the shadows. Her well-worn outfit hinted at her proclivities. A silken shirt peaked out from treated leather, stitched in gold and alluding to a taste for finer things, a notion further compounded by the sheer number of silvery jewelry she wore. A heavy belt sheathed around her waist, strapped with pouches for essential supplies and potions, practical. Bracers around her forearms, tightened with small buckles and straps, seemingly entirely ordinary. Except, to a discerning eye, they were clearly enchanted. Curiously enough however, she carried no weapons.
Wyll investigated the two cracked open pods in her immediate vicinity, but they were as empty as the one that once held her. Whatever or whoever these accursed cells once held prisoner were long gone, or worse. With no other survivors in sight, she made haste out of the chamber, crossing through an absolutely vile โdoorโ - if an opening that wrinkled and contracted like a donkeyโs sphincter could be called a door. Not the only vile thing, if her memories of the parasite and the mindflayer were in fact memories and not a particularly vivid nightmare, but she had no time to dwell on that.
The next room proved less empty as not one, but two pods held prisoners, side by side like lambs to the slaughter. She approached the closer one. It was hard to see clearly through the gunky lid, but whatever was within appeared humanoid. And, despite the urgency of the situation, the Blade of the Frontiers did not earn that name by leaving innocents behind. โHey! Can you hear me?โ Her knuckles rapped against the lid, hoping to wake its inhabitant.