Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20140925102931/@comment-24696651-20141006172408

Dande lay there, struggling to think of a backstory. The flowers he'd chewed were no longer numbing the pain, but they were still affecting his thinking. He vaguely recalled saying he was a travelling a merchant in Cyrodiil who had gone to the Cheydinhal Fighters' Guild for work, but why he'd done so, or how that lead him here, he had no idea. He estimated it would be another hour before the flowers stopped affecting his mind, but the constant pain would still distract him. It was all he could do to avoid crying out and writhing in agony, although it was slightly better than when he'd been impaled. Oh well. He'd be able to keep up this facade of unconsciousness for another two hours if need be, well after the drugs had worn off.