Meanwhile, in the Upper Umbra, beneath the peacefully tranquil...and sound proof...temple. A small life has not forgotten herself and her purpose...

“Every bone, every muscle, ripped apart to tiny shreds,” a sing song voice comes from the dark little metal box sitting in the dark little chamber. “Dick on a stick, head on a pike…my fist through your foul fucking heart!!”

The box suddenly bursts to life with those last few words, violent bangs and smashes coming from inside. Tamrissa’s bare feet and fists bruising themselves to bloodied messes where scabs from past fits she’s had are rubbing off. She supplies the screams of rage that only a true temper/madness tantrum deserves, the drawing of blood only feeding the flames of anger. Her eyes squeeze shut and she lets out one final screech, fingernails cutting into her palms as she puts everything into it.

She is left panting for breath and whimpering with the weakness and the pain the tantrum costs her. Silence pounds into her eardrums accompanied by the sound of her own heart and the blood pumping through her veins.

“One way out…one chance…give me one DAMN CHANCE!” her voice crescendos and she smacks the walls of her pitch black prison.

The silence is suddenly filled as her natural sixth sense picks up on an energy field not far from her. She gets to her knees, head bowed beneath the low ceiling of the box. Her palms flatten against the wall, feeling for the warmth that often spills from power or energy to make sure she is not imagining it.

The metal has given way somewhere, a sudden rush of joy fills her as she thinks to herself. Not enough to escape…but enough to free my senses a tad bit more.

She presses her face against the cold, cellar dew that sticks in slimed droplets on the sides of the box. A small wave of warmth makes her gasp.

“Gods…who’s out there?” she lets a sob out before regaining her composure. “Answer me, damn you!”

Nothing. She curls her fingers and her nails scratch down over the metal.

“Please, please, please…” she whispers as she tries with her mind.

Who are you? Speak to me and I will make it worth your while, her mental voice is seductive with the promise, but it is only a way to get the other party to answer her and then, by their answer, find out if they are worth her trouble. Very worth your while.

She waits for the presence to answer, breath fogging the metal and forehead pressed firmly against the surface.


OOC: Your move, Mr. Secret-Presence-Not-Very-Far-Away-From-Where-Tamrissa's-Cell-Is. ;-)

Finally, my ass, Tamrissa begins to tremble, holding back tears as she shakes with the sudden realization that she may soon be able to dig her claws into the hide of Naraka and rip him apart. Why do they hold you here? Who are you?

She sits back on her heels and runs her palms over the wall of her cage, almost relishing in the tiny bit of warmth coming from the energy.

They only keep the dangerously powerful down this far…or those they plan to execute, she makes a small sound in her throat as she tries to have patience after so long a wait. What have you done to make him angry or make him fear you?

Her hands press harder against the wall, forehead rolling as she turns her face to lay her cheek against the coldness once more.

Tamrissa laughs suddenly.

I have already promised him his death, but I am generous…you may have a piece of the meat also, she grins, olive eyes darkening, though it would hardly be noticeable in the darkness of her cell.

She pulls her face away from the cold, her cheek tingling. Her eyes go to the door of her cage. Keys rattle at the cell door outside.

They come, she whispers out loud as she speaks it mentally. You underestimate me, Gulver. I will have only a few moments before Naraka touches me and cuts off my ability to use my power like the cage that I now sit in, but I can release you. I have gifts in the arcane

The key to the door makes a hollow metallic sound as it is shoved into the lock.

I will release you because you at least share my death wish for the bastard, she hisses. But…I am in need of a returned favor. Do not make an effort to rescue me! I cannot afford to leave yet. I need you to save yourself and keep your escape hidden for as long as possible.

She begins to panic as the door creaks open.

There is a band of warriors on their way into the Upper Umbra…my allies, my friends and enemies of Naraka, though they do not know it yet. They are unaware of my plight or their own, even the voice that is so strong and clear in Gulver’s mind is breathy with rushing. The lying son of a bitch will treat them as honored guests and spread them out throughout the palace…lavish them with luxury and make them feel at ease with his illusions. But he will watch and listen like a hawk. Only taking his eyes and ears from them when night falls, when he must perform the ritual and when he believes them unconscious in their beds and locked in their rooms...which he also is capable of making happen forcefully. This will be your chance, however. I need you to contact ONE of them in secret. Tell them of my whereabouts and that all must be kept quiet until I am released from here.

Her eyes flick to the footsteps outside of her cage.

I need to be released and I need a distraction to give me time to finish what I started! she jumps as the cage door opens, making her turn her head away from the sudden light and clench her eyes closed. They must be careful!

The hands of priests reach in and pull her out with a mighty struggle on her part.

Show them this and they will understand and believe you!

A rapid flash of images takes over Gulver’s mind. The picture of hands glowing over a bowl of blood, an amulet backing floating above the dark scarlet pool. A face, a pale pale face with long white-gray hair flowing around it appears like a reflection in the surface of the blood. It’s mouth opens in a silent scream, but the pain is evident and can be felt by those with sensitive minds, even though it is muffled. The glowing hands above the bowl begin to shake and drops of water fall into the warmth of the blood, creating ripples on the tortured face…sorrow mixes with the pain…and then the memory is gone.

She says nothing more, but lets out a rough cry and sends an explosion of energy into Gulver’s cell. The priests drop her as she wriggles out of their grasp, but they quickly take control again. A large hand sweeps down and knocks her back against the clutching hands of her captors and into a slight daze. The arms of Naraka pick her up as she has trouble standing again. He smirks as she blinks up at him to try and focus, then carries her from the room.

All she can think about is the sphere that her energy just destroyed and how she will soon have that same smirk on her face when he is looking up at her from beneath the point of the Kurusunami…