Okay. Recent events cemented in my mind. I'm injured, badly, but I can recover. I just need to give my VIT some time to heal me. Before that, though, I had to get these wood shards out of my body. Would my skin heal around them? I don't know, but the image of me permanently stuck with shards of wood disturbed me a lot more than I cared to admit. Now that the chair was broken, the rope had come loose. I started to shrug my arms out of the knots but the searing pain coming from my left bicep stopped me. Right. Let's take this nice and slow. Carefully, I eased my right arm out of the binding. I made sure not to jostle my left side but freeing one limb still shook me a bit. Ignoring the pain, I pulled the rope off of my other wrist. Finally free, I pushed myself onto my knees. Nothing I can do to fix the arm but time. My back, however... This is going to hurt, Flake. It's going to hurt a lot and there's nothing you can do about it. So just hurry up and get it over with. ... Is it really that bad to just leave them in there? No, what am I saying? You've faced pain before, Flake! This isn't anything worse than getting stabbed in the chin or cut in half by an ax! I shuddered at the memories. Being reminded of that experience didn't help. But...maybe it would be alright? My VIT would heal me, right? All in due time. Actually, how long did it take for me to heal? I didn't exactly know how to count. I had a fuzzy but somewhat general idea of the concept. There was something going on behind the scenes. One moment I'm afflicted by one wound or another and the next, I'm right as rain. Quite honestly, I don't think my method of going by how many lives I've gone through has worked. It's been so long since I died...At least, I think it has. I knew, somehow instinctively, that all those times I'd gone from conscious in one place to conscious in another wasn't me dying. I'd just gone in a deep sleep. The concept of sleep wasn't new to me. I remembered feeling tired in my cell or just forcing my body to enter a state of 'not completely aware'. The deep sleep didn't feel like that, though. When I took those naps, I was still aware of what was happening around me. [Lesser Radar] kept up in the background and my finely tuned senses had made sure of that. Being forced into a deep sleep was far different. I lost contact with the world during those moments. It felt...weird, knowing how I could easily enter such a vulnerable state. First those {Guards}, then Inge, and now whatever Hale had done to me. The more I thought about it, the more that pissed me off. Why am I so weak? Was all the crap I've been through worth nothing? Had I not trained enough? Were all my efforts just wasted if someone like Inge could disarm me without me even seeing the blow? Gnashing my teeth, I reached back and grabbed one of the longer shards. I tore it out of my skin, groaning as it slid out sharp and fast. It hurt, badly, but the pain helped stabilize me. I needed that. To focus, to fight. I pulled out the rest of the shards, relishing the accompanying sting of stale air touching my torn flesh. Maybe I am a masochist. The thought, surprisingly, made me a little giddy. The throne of power can only be reached by donning a crown of pain. I think that's the blood loss talkin', mate. You should probably slow down a bit before you get any wonkier. Shut up, I grumbled right back. What do you know? Nothin', mate. I'm just the bloody voice in your cracked head. I ignored the voice, pulling out the last wood shard and flicking it away. That does it for my back but what am I gonna do about the acid blood? It'd been burning for a while, now, and while I could ignore the pain, dismissing the damage it was doing to my legs probably wouldn't end well. To get rid of it, I needed something to wipe it off with. All I had on me was my braies and I didn't fancy using that. Patting around my immediate surroundings, my hand touched one of the broken chair legs scattered around. It was largely intact so I could probably use it to wipe my legs. I grabbed it before carefully shifting on the floor, careful not to bang my injured arm on the ground. Once I was on my bum, I went to work with the chair leg. The burning hardly eased up as I wiped my legs down, but it was bearable now. When they were free of acid blood, I tossed the wood away. I braced my arm against my side and then pushed myself up. Hurting legs carried me through the room, bruised feet shuffling against the dirty floor. I didn't find any more bloated bodies, thankfully. As I explored my surroundings, I came to the conclusion that this was not just an unused room, but it had been used for storage. There were boxes, old furniture, and, for some reason, a suit of armor. Whoever had worn it left it lying against a moldy couch. The chewed up cushions had long since flattened under its weight. The metal had rusted; a shame, since it was a beautiful piece of work. My fist clanged against the breastplate, knocking up a cloud of dust. Coughing, I stumbled away from the suit. Goddess, that was awful. Why was this thing even here? "Urng..." I spun on my heel, bending my knees as I raised my fists. The owner of the mysterious voice didn't come out of the darkness. Was it trying to taunt me? "Come out," I called. "Come out before I make you!" A scraping noise from behind me. I twisted instantly, throwing a [Punch] charged fist. Nothing but air. Confused, I took a step back, scrutinizing the area I thought I'd heard the noise from. Was I hearing things? I could've sworn I heard something... I'm telling you, it's the blood loss. You should probably take a rest, mate. For once, the voice seemed to make sense. I was awfully tired. And bruised. Alright, well...a short nap would be fine, right? I'd just keep [Lesser Radar] on so I won't be caught unawares...Okay. Fine. I'll just take the suit off of the couch and- It moved. It moved, it moved, it moved. Yanking my arm away, I stumbled away from the couch. The suit of armor just moved.