[center][h1][color=AD7672]S ʏ ʀ ᴇ ɴ ɪ ᴀ[/color][/h1][/center]
[right][hr][color=gray][b]The Well of Valdis[/b]
12th Day of Autumn, 1088 AD[/color][hr][/right]
[indent]At the bottom of The Hollows was what the remnants of humanity called The Well of Valdis, a long since abandoned chamber that had drawn much darkness due to the nature of its existence as a desperate domain to revitalize the efforts of humanity’s survival and to refuse the fate of their now accursed existence. It was true, of course, that the apocalypse that they called the Inalienable Dreamless had damned humanity to a fate that was worse than death as harrowing monsters and vile demons now roamed the world before them with a hunger for destruction that could not be sated. But how far would humanity’s desperation take them? The answer lied in what remained in The Hollows’ darkest corners and deepest chambers. However, humanity’s darkest hour was not the only thing that existed in this well of sorrow, this pit of lost souls; for it was here on this day that the gods would look back upon humanity and in the mounds of corpses, pools of blood, and stench of decay that seven would reawaken as their lips once again gasped for air as the flinching pain of the death they had been absolved from would be their last clear memory.

The first to awaken had pink of hair and sapphire of eyes, her body face down in a pool of crimson. Only moments ago had she been lifeless as she laid in an everlasting purgatorial state, as she had for some amount of years. Her fists clenched in the shallow pool, grasping onto the debris of cracked stone that lied underneath, her body shaking painfully before she rose her head out of the pool in a painful gasp as the crimson water came flooding out of her lungs.

The girl continued to cough for some amount of minutes as her eyes widened, her body adjusting to its sudden revitalization considering the last thing that was felt was the battering of an enemy’s maul and the pressure of a metal-entrenched boot upon the neck as blood filled her lungs. The pink-haired girl remembered drowning, choking… and the blackness of death. But as her senses came back to her, painful as they were there was one thing she knew even in the haze of pain and confusion.

This place was nothing like the one she remembered losing her life upon. A death that to her felt like seconds ago.

[color=AD7672][i]…this isn’t right.[/i][/color]

Before she could compose herself any further the sound of other succeeding gasps and murmurs of pain could be heard from all across the bottom of the chamber-like pit she had awoken within. A frown forming on her lip as she clumsily made to her feet, instinctively grabbing for a now missing bow in nervous anxiety.

[i][color=AD7672]Where am I? What happened to my bow? The battlefield I was on? Who dragged me here? Why?[/color][/i]

She didn’t know what was going on. All she knew was that the chamber smelled like rot, looked abhorrent, and felt wrong. Her eyes shot down to that of a rusted sword that laid in the blood and filth-entrenched pool of water. She was little good with a sword, but she was trained in it as far as she could recall; if the shuffle of others in this abhorrent place was precedent of a battle to occur than she needed to at least be able to defend herself from harm. She may of have been an archer first and all things second, but she couldn’t be choosy considering what little she remembered and whereupon she had awakened.

She swiped the sword from the pool as she walked backward — back against the wall.

[i][color=AD7672]What in god's name?[/color][/i][/indent]