[center][h2]C O R R I N E[/h2][/center]
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[color=cccccc]On cue, the sixth awoke: violently gasping for air once again as a pale hand instinctively reached to her side. Not being able to find a blade at her side magnified the panic, and Corrine quickly scrambled back from the others as she coughed.[/color] "Wh-what--"[color=cccccc] she stammered, struggling with the weight on her left arm: a vaguely familiar shield, brandishing an emblem with a lion. Its sight triggered flickers of a memory of a war past, the piercing cries of metal clashing against metal, and the searing pain of blade against flesh.[/color] [i]I died,[/i][color=cccccc] she realized, suddenly growing still. Her breath stopped for just a moment, leaving her further dazed. 

She looked around at the others, and her breath returned slowly, allowing her senses to return to her. She realized no one seemed particularly hostile. If anything, they all looked just as confused as she, and twice as somber. Slowly, she stood, holding back more coughs and water from her reddened eyes against the stench of rot. It seemed that the small group was ready to leave the awful place. But how did they get there? What did they have in common? [/color]"What happened to us?" [color=cccccc]she asked quietly, though her crimson gaze was already wandering about for answers beside theirs. Her nerves were tense, and her pale fingers clenched and unclenched around her shield's grip, her other hand flexing and empty.

Panicking would not help, and she knew that. Calm down, she told herself again and again. And slowly, she did. The shaking in her hands grew still and her breathing was nearly normal. Corrine blinked away the sting in her red eyes, looking about her new company again.[/color]