Azoth's Calling

[The Almighty DM]

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Azoth rubs his face and massages his eyes as he flips his legs out of his bed. The visions of his dreams last night still pervade his thoughts and he is completely consumed in his thoughts as he shuffles over to his wardrobe. He begins to take off night shirt until he realizes that hes not in his night clothing.

"Who the hell are you?" Azoth turns to face a man in armor standing in the doorway. He begins to think his dreams were a little more than that.

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The new location also means a new set of rules for how I want you to interact with the environment. Feel free to roleplay anything you think is assumed to be granted, but in most cases, leave it to me to permit you to do things. For example, you can speak your dialogue with another person, but don't roleplay their reaction. You can tell me you are looking around, but don't assume you find certain things unless I've told you about them. Think of it as playing Dnd on the tabletop more than typing a story. I want you to feel a part of something rather than in control of something.

That being said, REACT.

[Azoth]

"Azoth. Where am I? And who are you?" Azoth checks himself and looks around the room.

[The Almighty DM]

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"Who am I?!" shouts the rugged man clad in padded armor. His fabric tussles as he juts a finger out at Azoth, "You're the one standing in my room!"

Looking around, Azoth realizes he is definitely not in his own room. Light shines through a small arrowslit in the stone wall. The room is sparsely furnished, but among the gear, dirt, and mess, Azoth can tell its the quarters for a soldier.

With a quick inspection of his person, Azoth finds everything he left the house with, although he notices that his boots are little more dirty, confirming further that last nights dream may have been reality.

"You better explain yourself, lest you earn yourself a taste of my sword!"

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[Azoth]

"There was a bright light then I woke up here. Where is here by the way?"

[The Almighty DM]

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"I've heard of some stupid ass excuses in my life, but god'damn! You must think I'm some kind of idiot!" said the man. "No one just winds up in a barracks and don't remember it. And I thought thieves were supposed to be cunning." Sliding out his blade he said, "Now don't put up a fight and make this easy on both of us. I won't hurt you none if you don't fight."

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[Azoth]

"Barracks, huh..." Azoth raises his hands and places them on his head. "What kind of thief sleeps in your bed and doesn't steal anything?"

[The Almighty DM]

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Pointing his sword towards Azoth's throat, the man says, "I ain't look to try an say what type of thief you are. Any type is better dead."
His blade moves closer and closer to Azoth's exposed throat, both men's eyes focused on its tip. The soldier's sweat drips down his chin, past the crooked smirk that begins to form.
Azoth begins to speak again but is interrupted. "Shut up! I've heard enough out of you." He fiddles with the blade, twisting it in his hands, bends his arm as he reluctantly shoves the sword down an imaginary neck. His eyes lock with Azoth's and stay there. Holding is blade steady, he continues to stare as a bead of sweat slide downs his arm, and down the blade. It rolls along its edge, until it lingers just a moment on the tip before dropping to the ground. Then the guard flings his sword above his head, twists his body in a slash, brings the metal full force towards Azoth's skull.
And Azoth watches as it flies past his head and the man crumple to his knees. Behind him stands the wizard from his dreams, arm outstretched towards the incapacitated soldier.
"Well... The fuck was that all about?"

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[Azoth]

"I bet him my skull would shatter his sword. Is he dead?"
Azoth nudges the soldier with his foot and takes a good look at the wizard.