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[color=tomato][i]Who am I? Where am I?[/i][/color]

The pink-haired woman's brows narrowed as she kept the sword in a defensive position, unflinching in her resolve due to the fact her encounter in this pit could turn out badly. She knew not of this man or the others that were awakening nor their intentions, so there was no way to know who was friend or foe. She took a light breath as the man approached her as others continued to shuffle out of the pile of corpses across the stone floor; the man looked in her direction with a concerning look before calling out to her with questions that were issued like demands; a sentiment that she felt was familiar to her for reasons she could barely recall. As for his questions, from her perspective they seemed like good enough ones to be asked of— the knowledge of their newfound location and the identities of the other living beings. However, at the moment she didn’t quite have any answers for him as she was trying to rein in what she could recollect; a fact that was difficult considering that her senses kept getting barraged by what she was sensing all around her.  

The woman thought hard as she kept fishing through her thoughts. The last thing she remembered was the crunching pain of a maul hitting her chest… and the slamming of an enemy’s foot upon her neck as she suffocated on her own blood. She had… [i]died[/i] hadn’t she? An anxious dread filled her mind as she recollected it and where she ended up did look like some sort of pit of corpses. If her memories were true then it was likely she was possibly tossed into this pit? But why had she awoken? Why had she been [i]revived[/i]? The thought of revivals were nothing new as far as she could remember considering the existence of powerful divine artifacts; but the place that she found herself was not a temple of healing, but an accursed necromancer's laboratory. It was a presumption, of course; but what else could it be?

[color=tomato][i]That doesn’t matter right now.[/i][/color]

She took another light breath. As she dug deeper into her thoughts for more information. Her name was Syrenia, an old adjustment of the word “siren”. The name was… from Iliandur. No, [i]she[/i] was from Iliandur. The land of clerical knights, of which she was a member, and apostles of a trinity of gods— a mother and two sons. She remembered the mother god was named Lyriel, a fact that she jumped to upon reawakening; so that must’ve been her patron goddess. The other two were [i]important[/i] though. 

[color=tomato][i]Aegis, the Protector. Helstar, the Judge.[/i][/color]

Whilst it was good that she remembered this much, this man wasn’t asking for theological information. She looked back at him and cleared her voice of any nerves. She could tell him what she knew in accordance to his questions; she hoped it would be satisfactory. But before she could reply a loud shout from another individual interrupted them. Syrenia looked to the origin of the voice before looking back at the man in a quick moment.

[b][color=tomato]“I have no idea where we are… I don’t remember anything like this. I have never even [i]heard[/i] of anything like where we stand.. As for my name? My name is Syrenia— of Iliandur.”[/color][/b]

There was a pause.

[b][color=tomato]“Who are you?”[/color][/b]