06/28/2025 Snippet, BRAVING THE MALSTORM.

Wow, this universe really developed a bit from when I wrote the first draft.

I woke up, which is always a good sign. Better yet, I didn’t have a headache. If they’d tossed a sticky rune on me — I rubbed one wrist, and frowned at the tackiness — when they tossed a sticky rune on me, they had used the good stuff. I didn’t have handcuffs or a restraint charm on me, either, which wasn’t so much ‘good’ as it was ‘not horrible.’ I’d still been grabbed, and I seriously hadn’t done anything.

Well, fine, I was an Adventurer. I probably had done something. I just couldn’t think of anything I’d done lately.

The room was spare, but neat, with a full-length mirror, a military-issue cot with sheets and a pillow, and a table and chairs. The table had a basket of fruit on it. The door didn’t have a doorknob. Oh, and there was a bathroom attached, with a shower, soap, and faint glowing wards on all the pipes and drains. Like I could fit down one!

So, I could be comfortable, just as long as I didn’t think that I would get to just leave. Somebody just starting out in this life of mine would have called all of this mixed signals. Me? I knew it was worse. All of this smelled political.

Yay.

My grumbling was interrupted by a knock on the door, which confirmed that I’d been dry-gulched by Saints. Of course they’d knock first. I carefully squared myself up, took a deep breath, and said “Come in.”

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