Angfan stumbled around in the small room at the Swaggers. What the hell had happened? She was dizzy, exhausted, covered in tiny dagger wounds as though someone had taken a thousand needles and jabbed them into her, then bandaged over them - on top of that she was absolutely famished. What's more, she was wearing some total strangers jacket and half of her own clothes seemed to be in shabbily cut pieces on the floor along with a less than pleasing semi-circle of dried blood radiating out from the edge of the bed.

Last thing she really remembered was walking through stonekeep looking for someone and... it almost slapped her in the face. The Undead. Those ghouls had leapt out on her as soon as she stepped out of Stonekeep's Avatarian church. She was ill-prepared, off guard and outnumbered five to one, yes, it came back to her somewhat. Poisons, dark magic. All had closed in and brought her to to the floor. As she stood up she hummed a quiet, but steady tune. What the hell is that, she thought. It rang a bell, but she couldn't wrap her tongue around the tune. She couldn't wrap her mind around what the hell had happened to her after being taken down either. It was all blurry, and she could almost taste the scent of a magic other than her own still emanating from her clothes.

Biting her lip, she pulled the strangers jacket over herself and glanced through the windows. She could see the muddy tracks around the Ironwood had already succumbed to the afternoon rains, washing themselves slowly into a somewhat-less than glittering river. It obviously wasnt the same day, and from how she felt she wasnt even sure if it was the day after. She'd have to go find out, and either thank or kill the person who owned this jacket. That, and steer clear of Avatarian churches.