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Well this was different.
The throbbing pain in the front left side of his skull, the itching in the base of his brain, and the way his teeth were all growing hair: normal. Normal hangover, normal taint, and oh yes, more normal hangover. Even the pain in his jaw and the bruises on his knuckles, more or less normal, given the brawl in the alley he'd definitely not incited with a wild punch when someone had started in about... Maker's breath, what had he even been so angry about?
What was he ever angry about? The Wardens, or the Warden most likely.
But the cold damp seeping into his clothes from the bare dirt he was lying in, instead of a greasy puddle behind the tavern he'd been tossed out of, smelling of elfroot that he was definitely crushing beneath him? Not exactly what he'd come to expect.
He turned his head slowly scanning the dark courtyard, all silent and still. Above him either the foulest storm was brewing, or the sky had just... wandered off.
He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, grunting as he cast a look around at the colonnades and gazebo and statue of Andraste, only to find a strange book tumble off of his chest and onto his feet. His fingers itched for it (also not normal) so he picked it up and tucked it into the front of his jacket.
Before he did any light reading, however, he needed to figure out where in the void he was.
The throbbing pain in the front left side of his skull, the itching in the base of his brain, and the way his teeth were all growing hair: normal. Normal hangover, normal taint, and oh yes, more normal hangover. Even the pain in his jaw and the bruises on his knuckles, more or less normal, given the brawl in the alley he'd definitely not incited with a wild punch when someone had started in about... Maker's breath, what had he even been so angry about?
What was he ever angry about? The Wardens, or the Warden most likely.
But the cold damp seeping into his clothes from the bare dirt he was lying in, instead of a greasy puddle behind the tavern he'd been tossed out of, smelling of elfroot that he was definitely crushing beneath him? Not exactly what he'd come to expect.
He turned his head slowly scanning the dark courtyard, all silent and still. Above him either the foulest storm was brewing, or the sky had just... wandered off.
He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, grunting as he cast a look around at the colonnades and gazebo and statue of Andraste, only to find a strange book tumble off of his chest and onto his feet. His fingers itched for it (also not normal) so he picked it up and tucked it into the front of his jacket.
Before he did any light reading, however, he needed to figure out where in the void he was.
