[center][h1][color=FFA500]A u d h i l d[/color][/h1][/center]
[right][hr][color=gray][b]The Well of Valdis[/b]
12th Day of Autumn, 1088 AD[/color][hr][/right]
[indent]Young fire, burning in a tenebrous pit. A flame which birthed from the lost and irrecoverable past to give life anew. It moved, searing and scorching through the black as it expelled waves of colour and light; for once lit, it would not be extinguished until death consumed it offering.

The fluttering of eyelids, still sealed shut, signalled the time to once again rise. They feared to open, feared to look upon the world with a sense of enthusiasm, for it was the scent of the dead which was recognised by young Audhild. The wet smell of rotting flesh and the sickly taste that swirled through the nostrils was inescapable, uncontrollable, and forcibly consumed by those who had awoken. A pulse of instinctive energy erupted from deep within the woman's gut, a contraction of vomiting reflexes that produced no more than gaseous air. Century old taste of maggots and bacteria.

An alien scream flowed from her lips as her body reared awake. Eyes torn open, the pants of hysteria, the adrenalin which slumbered for so long kicked Audhild with a medicinal high that could almost send her back to the depths of death. Her mind had forgotten everything that once was, but her body was not so complainant. Without thought, without hesitation, Audhild climbed through the seas of corpses that laid upon her unfortunate soul as she rose to the summit of flesh and bone. It had become a birth of life through the gift of death — a reaper's failed task, or a god's forsaken gift.

[color=FFA500]"Hvor er jeg?"[/color] Words muttered from a language unknownst to even her as she surveyed the hills of tarred blood.

[color=FFA500]"Where am I?"[/color] She repeated, finally clearing a section of intellect with much needed logic and curiosity. Expressing the confusion to demand an answer from whatever benevolent being that happened to be watching over them at this point in their life. As though it was the will of the universe Audhild heard the subtle sounds of voices from afar, resonating through the pitch void to her sensitive ears.

[color=FFA500]"Who goes there?"[/color] She bellowed, husky and full of might as she dropped to her knees in a scampering forage for any form of suitable protection. A blade, a bone, even flesh to throw would be better than nothing, but the more she searched the more she found which was not suitable to her needs. Her hands brushed over every surface in a panicked frenzy as two names snuck their way into her thoughts...

[color=FFA500][i]Oyen & Stohl...[/i][/color] 

Audhild froze. For the first time since awakening the Skogarian woman had recollected some form of memory. The most insignificant of drops in the ocean of the past, but enough to remind her what it once felt to be human.

[color=FFA500]"Where am I?"[/color] A third time for asking the same question, but this time she was awaiting an answer. Too many questions were formulating inside her head, and none had been truly answered... all except that she knew she had somehow been reborn.[/indent]