The forest bleeds and blurs together like a muddy Monet painting as you regain consciousness. What do you remember last? Walking through the seemingly endless sea of trees, being wrapped in an almost unearthly serenity despite or perhaps because of your reasons for coming to this place.
And then you saw them. The robed figures in wooden masks. Such things never bode well, and despite your best attempts to leave you found yourself rushed. You didn't even have a chance to ask them what they wanted before you woke up here, on the border between the forest and the town.
...Your chest hurts. But that's not the least of your problems.
The feeling of eyes upon your back would be enough to make one wonder if those robed freaks are back, but turning around greets you to the sight of one lone man amidst the fog. He makes for a lovely sight...even with the horns on his head and the tail sprouting from his lower back. He gives you the kind of smile that hides a million secrets and a million more behind those cold blue eyes.
"Ah, splendid. You've awoken at last."
[](#'أنت has just been jumped by King's worshipers and implanted with a shard of his horn in their chest. If أنت inspects their chest, they will find a cauterized scar.')
CORRUPTION: 0 pts.