[You probably both knew it was inevitable that running was pointless. In nightmares, whatever hunts you always finds you.
Or, in this case, you find it.
Which, as Felix knows, is to be expected. Malkar loves his traps.
What you stumble into is some gross mishmash of dungeon and parlour - the walls unchanged but marked by a few sets of manacles, a red mosaic pentagram glimmering under the light of braziers, circled about by a pair of velvet-covered couches.
A stocky man stands by the back wall, brown hair swept back and eyes bright, all over a smug smile.
"How nice of you to come visit me, darling. Do come in."
And then the door slams closed of it's own accord.]
MALKAR
Or, in this case, you find it.
Which, as Felix knows, is to be expected. Malkar loves his traps.
What you stumble into is some gross mishmash of dungeon and parlour - the walls unchanged but marked by a few sets of manacles, a red mosaic pentagram glimmering under the light of braziers, circled about by a pair of velvet-covered couches.
A stocky man stands by the back wall, brown hair swept back and eyes bright, all over a smug smile.
"How nice of you to come visit me, darling. Do come in."
And then the door slams closed of it's own accord.]