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[Talia]

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In the prison of Maedas, The word of the Valkyrie is final.


The tiny human is worthless and insignificant.


Garbage she is deemed. Two are left in charge of disposal.


The garbage continues to rot; her value depreciates by the minute.


Without a spoken word, the two know what must be done.


As all good hosts should, a parting gift is prepared.


The implement that will create the gift is made molten and red.


The recipient is bound and stripped in preparation.


Her spirit broken and body bruised, her skin will bear the mark forever.


Taken to the Arena of Truth where all garbage gathers.


Trash breeds in Sosaria. A notice is given to the tiny human’s maker.

[Bree'Dorian Armunn]

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Everything had happened so fast. Her treatment had been increasingly better, sometimes as if she were a guest instead of a prisoner. But always that tell-tale sign of deception.
And then Xianna showed up at her cell, handing her over to Trillin and Talia. The talk of releasing her, yet beating her was confusing. She was torn between her instinct of rebelliousness and keeping up her own deception. In cases of confusion it was best to say nothing and observe. Observing through the pain of the beating. Quiet with her words, but not with her sounds of pain. All the talk of release. She was not convinced. Everything became a mishmash of images, sounds, and pain while she struggled to stay concious. The branding. She fought against that, what little good it did, but still she fought. The searing physical pain it brought did not compare to the infuriating sense of the helplessness she felt in preventing it from being done.
Her mind was caught up in a whirlwind that seemed to go on forever. Wanting nothing more than to give into the haze of darkness that threatened her mind with its promise of release, she still held onto conciousness with resolve. The whirlwind subsided momentarily when she was taken to what looked like a gladiator pit. Did they bring her to fight some terrible beast? Half aware of being tied to some gruesome standard, her last sight was of the two Atalan vanishing. Her last thought before she gave in to the dark cloud was wondering who or what she was to face in the pit.
_________________
= Bree Armunn =

Song for Bree


"Even though Imryrr took more after myself, I predict that Bree will be able to shape the land through whispers in diplomats' ears..."
- Lord Tarothin Armunn