Dismounting from my dragon I cast a spell, and in the blink of an eye I'm standing before a group of battle-hardened soldiers of Death, in every way. I quietly eye a large Tauren as it excitedly jumps around a giant seafood feast on the floor.
My gear in comparison is substandard, and lacking in everything needed to perform adequately as a member of the raid. I awkwardly try to ignore the other people's gear and sneakily flick my eyes over each detail.
Studying the moiety of members in front of me I gently, silently weave a refreshment table, the portal manifesting in a cool, electric-blue egg.While I sit inside my head and consider how to introduce myself, guild members come over to activate the portal, syncing their spirits with mine, to summon a magic table capable of supplying cupcakes that revitalize ones intellect and fortitude.
The magic fades from my bony finger tips and I let my hands fall to the table. As I straighten I gingerly munch on a miniature mana cake. "Oh Thrall's balls I hope this goes ok . . ." I sigh inwardly. As the others chat away amongst themselves, I'm left alone with my own thoughts.
Turning my head to look at the twinkling lights glaring off this paladin's golden garb, I find myself face to face with the cold and tranquil face of an undead. She stares at me. I slowly back up, heart pounding, and hastily contemplate her intentions. She slowly blinks and hands me her leather flackett of Highland Spring water.
This is "Living Dead Girl," right?
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this. I think you could squeeze a little more out of this sketch if you had the character looking at a couple specific characters and describing the things about them that are intimidating. I would give us a better sense of not only the scene, but what her perceptions and anxieties are.