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[Joanna Weaver]

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She stood on the teleporter pad of the second level of Abyssal Abbey. Swallowing, her tongue almost lodged in her throat as she gazed around the lord Dealthagar's "playroom". Several malicious and bloodied instruments of torture furnished this room, and she forced a hand tight against her stomach to keep from heaving its contents. She gagged from the stench of old blood (she didn't want to think about what else might be rotting in that room). If not for the absolute fear that had taken over her upon hearing the voice beyond the wall, she'd never have ventured up from the lower level of the keep. Now, on shaky footing, she very cautiously placed one foot in front of the other, daring not a glance directly at the torture devices she passed as she slowly advanced to the only door of the room.

Opening the door carefully, she peered through the coin-wide crack to the hallway beyond. Her breath caught as she saw the all-too-familiar form of Sularis exit the sitting room and turn toward the front door. As the door opened, she realized that she could still hear the man outside counting. Had it really only taken but a few seconds to cross the torture chamber behind her? It had felt like an eternity, like the rest of her captivity here.

Pressed against the doorjamb, she listened closely as she heard Sularis speaking to the strangers beyond the door. Joanna could barely make his words out over the pounding of her heart, but she caught most of what he said. Carefully closing the door, she leaned her forehead against its cool surface in thought.

For so long, she had dreamt of escaping this prison, but she'd feared the consequences were she to be caught again. Just how long had she been that beast's plaything? Months? Years? Keeping time had become so meaningless. There was only waiting. Waiting for the next meal, waiting for instruction, and waiting to be used.

She pulled back from the door quickly. Sularis was sure to be busy with extra tasks now that his master was confined to the abbey. He would be occupied.

She hurried back to the teleporter, escape so at the front of her mind that she payed little heed to the bloodied machines as she passed. She must move quickly if she wanted her freedom.

Desperation fueled her haste as she grabbed the strap of her backpack and hefted it onto the bed. Moving quickly to the dresser, she slid the wooden drawer open and gazed at the few articles of clothing that were truly hers. She ran a hand across the folds of a thick wool skirt, eliciting memories of another time and place, when she'd been free. Hurriedly, she changed into the clothing that she'd been wearing the day she was abducted. Giving one last look into the drawer, her eyes fell on the various negligees and corsets made of lace, velvets, and other rich materials that remained within. Revealing and provocative clothing that he'd forced her to wear for his pleasure. Her face screwed up in contempt as she slid the drawer shut. With any luck, she would never have to wear any of it ever again. She tugged the drawstring tight to close her pack.

There was only one thing left.

Turning, she slowly walked toward the incubator. Opening the lid, she peered down upon the occupant within. For a moment, her resolve weakened and she almost crumpled forward. Bracing her head against the cover, she stared at the egg nestled among the soft lining. Her egg.

The product of an experiment Sularis and his master were using her for. An abomination, half gargoyle and half human. It was everything that a humanist like her both feared and loathed. But more importantly right now, it was the only child that had managed to survive her womb. She had already lost too many children due to injury or illness. Her maternal instincts taking over, she could not bring herself to leave this little one behind. As hot tears began to dribble down her cheeks, she lifted the egg gently from its bed. She held it close, like an infant, and reached for the special lined pouch that Sularis had made. It was a snug fit, as the egg had become much larger since its birth, but she still managed to close the pouch completely around it. She drew her hand across her eyes, wiping the moisture from them. Hopefully, it would be over soon. She would save her tears for another time.

Taking a deep breath to bolster her nerves, she slipped her arms into the straps of the backpack and secured the strap of the pouch across her like a sash. The egg bulged in front of her, casting a pregnant profile on her shadow in the candlelight. Moving to the brick wall, she slid her fingertips under a brick she had secretly managed to work loose over the last few weeks. Tugging the brick free, she dipped her hand into the shadowy recess and plucked out a small bag. Carefully, she slid the brick back into place.

Opening the small bag, she poured its contents into the palm of her hand. It was the culmination of many weeks worth of collecting the minuscule amounts of magical residue that she'd found leftover on the floor in Sularis' workshop. From her pocket she took the only rune she had managed to find in the keep that didn't sound as if it lead to someplace dreadful. Etched onto the rune were words describing a circle of some sort. She looked at the small pile of red dust and prayed with every ounce of her being that it would be enough to power a simple spell of recall. Taking a deep breath, the rune held tight in her hand, she closed her eyes and spoke the words that she hoped would carry her to freedom.

"Kal ort por."

As she felt the air pressure change around her and the ground shift beneath her feet, she knew the immense deliverance and elation that success brings.

Joanna opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was standing in the center of a circle of marble pillars, tucked somewhere in the middle of a thick forest. It seemed to go on forever in all directions. She breathed in the fresh air greedily, as if she'd been suffocated all those months. Walking to one of the pillars, she wrapped her arms around it in a tight embrace, as if it to anchor herself. The egg was bulky in the space between but she paid no heed to it. She was free.

Free!

Now she would have to stay free and find her way out of these woods. She would have to find Lord Isk. There was also the matter of finding food...
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"Art and architecture must combine to create something larger than either." ~ Robert Campbell