Silence. A silence so formidable that Ser Valden might question what it was once like to take in the symphony of the world. Sight.. Sound…  It all  feels so foreign now-  The dark and quiet of this massive coffin is almost a comfort. Almost.  How long Valden lay amongst the wax is unknown to him. His coffin companion, the withered giant, slumbers deeply in a perceivable undeath.

Images flash before Valden’s eyes, as if his mind is issuing a last ditch effort to grasp some sense of grounded reality.Valden sees his childhood home, a bright flash of the  smiling face of a child. Valden focuses on the ivory white of the child’s teeth, as a flash of a dripping yellow maw replaces it for an instant. Valden swears he can feel hot primal breath breathing on his face in the still dark.

The warrior spirit in Valden is reignited. He cannot continue to lay here complacently amongst withered flesh and bitter wax. This would be an affront to himself, as the witch who tortures him still spins her poison elsewhere.

Valden forces his eyes to open- to see. Before him lay thousands of lit candles- all feeding into the wax covered floor. Valden stands, and grabs his flail and shield as he does. The ambient flickering of the army of candles reveals what must be a nightmare. The feet of the slumbering giant rise up before him, each of them the height of a castle wall. The candlelight only reaches so far, and the ceiling is shrouded in an imperceivable dark.

Laughter...
“SILENCE, WITCH. I am coming for you yet. I will not be stifled.

Valden trudges forward through the wax, seeking an exit to this coffin… this…..prison.

Despite Valden’s strong desire to move forward, he stops suddenly. The wound where the spear slid between his ribs begins to burn as he recalls the events that transpired outside of the coffin.  How many days had passed since then? It is impossible to tell. With no Omens left, and without a safe place to properly rest,, Valden opts to drink from his waterskin and gather himself.

Clearly the poisoned sorcery of the witch is at play here-  how far have her teeth sunk into Valden’s Psyche?

Valden trudges forth through the wax once more. He approaches the withered feet of the slumbering giant. Dirty cloth wrappings merge with the decaying flesh. Valden manuevers right, deciding to traverse the coffin alongside the giant’s left leg.

Valden makes his way through the candles carefully, as if navigating headstones in a graveyard.  Progress is slow, but deliberate. Suddenly, all of the candles snuff out, leaving Ser Valden in complete darkness. He stands in silence listening, waiting…. A low thumping begins to echo throughout the coffin.

Valden Must Make test presence.

A circle of candlelight fades up quietly just up ahead. Something lay very still within the circle.

Valden cautiously approaches as a deep dread grows in his chest. He knows in his heart what lay in the circle before him. He drops his flail and shield as he runs into the circle of candles, falling to his knees as he stares hopelessly at a hound. HIS hound.

The hound lay on its side, seemingly dead. Valden exhales and stares at his long past friend. Regret fills him.

The hound’s eyes snap open as a strong whimper escapes its mouth. The hound began to twitch, and the whimpering grew stronger. The hound was in pain.

"No.. no… not this… please…"

The hound’s flank is torn open by an unseen primal force, sending blood to meet the wax.

"NO  .. No… NOOO… Noo…"

Valden, panicking, puts his hands on the Hound’s head as if attempting to ease the suffering through comfort..

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.. I’m sorry…”

Valden recoils as the Hound’s body erupts into flame, burning in a bright pillar that reaches ever upwards.

The circle of candles snuff out. Darkness once more. Silence.

The thumping, continues… the sound becomes a feeling as it invades Valden’s physical form. He could feel it as if it were his own… heartbeat.

The candles… fade up in a ghostly manner. There is no sign of the poor hound. Valden, still feeling palpable regret, finds himself stunned for the moment… for even the strongest and bravest warriors can crumble when faced with the loss of a loved one. Especially when they are forced to relive that loss for a second time. These magicks this witch employs to attempt to break Valden are a shade of deep and deranged cruelty.

The world may be facing its end soon enough, and even if Valden is to experience only a single hour of peace before he meets his end- it will all have been worth it.  He will slay the witch. He will find his solace. Verhu and his Miseries be damned.

Finding his resolve once more, Ser Valden makes his way along the withered flesh of the giant. The wax at his feet suffers under the weight of a man with a heavy conscience.

As Valden passes the kneecap of the giant, he can now see the left hand of the giant, laying palm down in a bed of multi colored wild flowers that sprout from the wax. The thumping becomes more palpable by the minute.

As Valden approaches the scene,, he takes notice  of extensive lettering that has been carved into what remains of the skin of the giant hand.

Valden reads the crudely carved words aloud to the audience of patient flowers.

"Ignite the mind with whispered flames of sorrow,

Burdened hearts, that  shadows deeply borrow,

Lie awake as dreams turn darkly tangible,

Toll of memories, echo from the mandible."

Upon completing the reading, the giant’s hand quietly lifts and rotates. Its palm now lay open, almost inviting Valden to step upon it. Valden accepts the invitation as the thumping grows ever louder. The hand closes around Valden, but not with the intention of crushing him. Instead, the hand carefully transports him to the exposed sternum of the giant. The hand, upon completing its task, returns to its resting place amongst the flowers.

Valden now stands at the upper reaches of the candlelights glow. It is much darker up here, atop the giant.  The thumping rattles through his boots and up his spine, as he now stands directly to the side of its source: a heart that beats in undeath- the heart of the slumbering giant.

A chorus of sickening cracking and ripping fills the air, as the head of the withered giant rises to meet Valden, until it reaches an unnatural perpendicular position…. Its mask of occult flesh and horror faces Valden stoically. Two massive obsidian gem stones rest in the eye sockets, reflecting the candlelight from below. Another crack as the giant’s Jaw opens and lowers itself below the horrible mask. As the giant speaks, Valden feels its frigid and rotten breath collide into him.

“Ser Valden- I have seen your dreams. I have witnessed your sins. You hold no honor within that meagre flesh of yours. You are not worthy of the life you still possess. I shall do the world a favor, and rid you of it- keeping you here, for all eternity.”

Valden Spits.

“I think I’ve heard enough from you. I reject your sentencing, and choose to issue you a permanent death”

Valden lifts his flail and strikes at the thin patch of old flesh to his right, and continues striking as if attempting to extract any and all blood that might remain in the mortal canvas until the wretched beating heart is revealed.

“VALDEN - YOU ARE AN UNHOLY BEAST AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE”

Valden, hearing the eternal words of the giant echo through him lets out a roar as his flail connects with the colossal creatures heart …over and over… and over again… until the incessant thumping ends…. And all is dark.