A hole opened up beneath his feet, as wide and as large as a city block, crumbling into the dark. He remembered the impact, the fall breaking him so much like a twig. He didn't feel much of anything. The shock and the pain must have been overwhelming, but he did remember closing his eyes.

He must have died, then.

So why was it, when he woke up, he saw an old man, wizened and bearded and wearing blue robes of all things? The blurry vision didn't help, and he was completely out of it. Drugged, he assumed, and also apparently stapped to a wooden table. He could barely talk, so he just drooled every time he tried. Whatever questions he wanted to ask, was stuck in his throat. He couldn't even move his limbs. Might as well be a dead fish.

It also didn't help that there was a giant bird on fire, with a wingspan of thirty foot chained to the wall. The spikes stabbed into its flesh, binding it like some crucified martyr left a bad taste in his mouth. Its screams of agony were muted around a bubble of some clear crystal, though even Jor could hear its agony and rage.

The bird would have been beautiful, if not for the cruel act done to it. The wannabe Gandalf didn't seem to mind it, completely ignored it, even.

Jörmungandr Shesha

Level 1

Class - N/A Strength - 0 - 0% Endurance - 0 - 0% Intelligence - 0 - 0%

Willpower - 0 - 0% Vitality - 0 - 0% When he saw the light blue screen pop up, he was left baffled. It wasn't long before Jor soon lost consciousness. -- When he woke up again, it was to a massive cavern. The lab, or what must have been one, was now gone. He assumed he was left behind somewhere else, like so much as dirty laundry. When Jor felt his limbs move, he was surprised. The fall from such a high should have killed him. Well, if not that, then it should have damn near break every bone in his body. The fact that he not only survived, that he could move at all was surprising. A dream? The weird man and that burning bird... And just what was that screen? The blue screen popped up, startling him. This time, the stats were different, if only slightly.

Jörmungandr Shesha

Level 1

Class - N/A Strength - 0 - 0% Endurance - 0 - 0% Intelligence - 0 - 0%

Willpower - 0 - 0% Vitality - 0 - 0% Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix

That was new. The confusion assaulted him, leaving him more anxious then fearful. He waved his hands against the blue translucent screen, but it went right through. A hologram? That didn't make any sense. They didn't have the technology for it, and even still, it was still barely in the prototype stages. A roar shook the cavern. The blue screen was gone, now. And he was not of a mind to care where it went, but more of where that sound came from. The thing was, which left him slightly freaking out, that it literally shook the ground he was lying on. It felt like an earthquake, but that sound wasn't some natural phenomenon. That sounded like it came from something large, and predatorial. Jor stumbled to his feet, deeply unsettled. He knew he was screwed when he saw his first skeleton. It came out of the dark, bereft of flesh and the bleached white bone and rusted armour. It was a broken, boxy helmet. And the short sword it clung to, despite its broken and rusted edge, didn't make it any less dangerous. The eyes, though. That's what gave it a dangerous feel. The glowing crimson points of light were glaring at him. His mouth must have been gaped open in amazement. Also, the need to run was prevalent. "No. Nope," Jor muttered, taking a step back. "No. No. Nope. I'm out!" He turned on his heels, then ran. Only to stop. Another of its kind stepped out to block his path, only slightly different in its gruesome appearance. And another, then another, until hundreds of pairs of red-eyed undead appeared to surround him. Jor was stuck. "Oh, fuck you. Fuck you!" He didn't scream, but the words seemed to echo around the dark cavern. He was shaking, his body shivering with dread. He should be dead, only to vicariously survive a fall. Now, he's about to be murdered by a bunch of undead. The closest undead reached him, its longsword swinging. He barely dodged it, only to feel cold steel strike him on his back. Jor didn't scream, only because he didn't have the strength for it. He pulled away, weakly elbowing the thing in the face. It hurt him more than it did the undead, because the spiked helmet dug into his flesh like so much as a hot knife through butter. He whimpered, yanking his arm off and moving away. The adrenaline kept him sane, and the pain focused his mind. He dodged the next swing, and another, only to get stabbed by a spear through his stomach. Jor felt his knees buckle and fell to his knees. The pain felt like nothing he'd ever known. Was this how he was going to die? In here, in the dark, far away from home, away from the warmth of his bed and hot coffee. Sure, his condo was empty. It was even slightly dirty, with an empty pizza box littered somewhere on his coffee table. It was still his, though. It was home. He wondered how his girlfriend was doing? Alicia was a right firecracker, and he suddenly missed her so much. What would she do, if she found out he was gone? Would she look for him? Would she alert the police, and his family, about his missing person? Also, no one was there to delete his browser history. "Well, shit," Jor gurgled out, as blood came spilling out of his mouth. Those were his last words before a hammer caved his head in like so much as a ripe fruit.