The first thing he noticed, besides the obvious status of being covered in something slimy and cold, and the gagging from something being removed from his throat, was the fact that he was most definitely not in the council chamber, and where the hell did his clothes go. The last thing he remembered was telling Rhia to wait outside his chambers while he changed into the appropriate garb for the council meeting after their morning sparring match. He remembered pulling the heavy brocade over his shoulders, remembered fastening the clasps to attach the vast and, in his opinion, overwrought setting for the Heart of the Realm around his neck, staring for a moment at his beleaguered reflection in the mirror before opening the door and then--
That was where it cut off, where things got fuzzy. In the first moments of disorientation, he'd assumed the heavy resistance to movement were his robes, but then he'd been unceremoniously dumped onto a very cold, very metallic floor. It reminded him somewhat of the airship, or when they'd traveled to Autochthon... Shivering, reaching up and wiping the goo from his face, pushing dark hair back from his face, golden yellow eyes go wide. There were others. Many others.
Shaking a hand covered in goo with a look of disgust, he grips the first protrusion on the wall that seems sturdy enough to support him, and tugs himself upright, wavering as feet slide in the goo. There, she seemed to know what she was about...
"Excuse me," he says, voice cracking from whatever it was that was in his throat, no doubt, and he coughs, trying again, taking a half-step forward, acutely aware that he is wearing nothing but smallclothes as he catches her attention. "I seem to have taken a very wrong turn in the Palace... Where is this?"
Re: 4 Kristin c:
That was where it cut off, where things got fuzzy. In the first moments of disorientation, he'd assumed the heavy resistance to movement were his robes, but then he'd been unceremoniously dumped onto a very cold, very metallic floor. It reminded him somewhat of the airship, or when they'd traveled to Autochthon... Shivering, reaching up and wiping the goo from his face, pushing dark hair back from his face, golden yellow eyes go wide. There were others. Many others.
Shaking a hand covered in goo with a look of disgust, he grips the first protrusion on the wall that seems sturdy enough to support him, and tugs himself upright, wavering as feet slide in the goo. There, she seemed to know what she was about...
"Excuse me," he says, voice cracking from whatever it was that was in his throat, no doubt, and he coughs, trying again, taking a half-step forward, acutely aware that he is wearing nothing but smallclothes as he catches her attention. "I seem to have taken a very wrong turn in the Palace... Where is this?"