[center][b][i]~IN THE BEGINNING~[/i][/b]
[i]Time: Second Hour and Second Quarter of MiddleDay[/i][/center]

[i]The Old Boar's Inn; Bar[/i]
[b][Missile/Pullo/Kresnik/Locien][/b]

At Missile's answer, Locien's shoulders would visibly sad, his face slowly morphing into one of pure rejectment. However, at the mention of having a sip of her drink, the shoulder's immediately perked up. "A very generous offer, mate. Thankee." A gloved hand would quickly snatch up the small glass, taking a more-than-mouthful swig, greedily throwing the contents to the back of his throat. However, The Gargleblaster was a drink even the most seasoned drinkers would not be able to withstand. The elven bard's head flew backward, toppling his limp frame head over heels out of his barstool and crashing into the wooden floor. His instrument would make a strange sound, the mixture of an off key twang of strings mingled with the odd clunk of a half stung drum. However, his face would be plastered with a drunken grin, his lips mumbling something. If Missile care to know what he was saying, he would repeat it, his voice a whispering giggle, "You could have warned me it was a gargleblaster, yeh little witch."

++++

[i]???[/i]
[b][Alec][/b]

The creature would scream in agony as Alec's foot connected solidly against the creatures midsection, forcibly wrenching her from her death grasp and onto the ground with a solid thump. Incessant growling would come from it as the demi-god paced around it, his words fading into the surrounding darkness. Suddenly, his wife's head would turn a full 180 degrees, her fallen form twisting grotesquely towards him, back now front. "But I am like your wife, Alec." Another terrible shriek ripped from her deformed throat, claws on her hands growing to impossibly, nightmarishly long lengths. "I was never the same after you changed! Never! NEVER!" Claws were swiping left and right, becoming faster, faster, [i]faster[/i]. The demigod might be able to dodge the first, then second, and maybe even third strike, but his dead wife's strikes would become to fast. Maybe in the real world, where his godlike reflexes could have saved him, but in this state of mind, he was just a man and he would be gutted just like one. Blood would pour like a river as Alec's innards would rip from his abdomen as Eva would begin to flay her husband, screaming one word over and over, "NEVER! NEVER! NEVER!" Pain would be present and the darkness would swallow him whole, the last thing he would see were his wife's deformed eyes, glaring evilly down on him as her lips screamed the same word, over and over...

But the darkness would be banished as Alec's eyes jarred open, gazing skyward on his back in the middle of a tall, looming forest, the grey barked trees mingling with a ever present mist. hat were covered in ice and the melting remains of a never-ending winter. When (and if) Alec rose from his prone position, he would find himself in a place where winter was dying and the silent, wet comings of spring were creeping into its season. Dead leaves mingled with crusty snow, all mixed together in a frozen mud that could only be brought by the breaking of winter. The trees around him would be incrusted in a brittle ice - clearly continuing to show the ongoing struggle between winter and spring. Around him, there would be no other sound or sight of life. The air would be visibly with every breath, biting into his gouging wound left by his late wife (though even the skin under his clothes would feel icy) as no present path was presented - he would be painfully lost, with no true direction to direct his next move.