Portals were uncertain things, especially when they were opened by another, and especially if that other was steeped in chaos magicks that were unbound by the same rules and laws that mages lived by. He had not been transported to a hellscape as he would have believed when diving headlong through the portal, but until now he had not been given the chance to take in his surroundings.
He was hopeful in part that a great warrior lived here, as he had already seen several well-crafted blades that adorned several of the walls, and had taken heart that maybe here he might find someone that could possibly help him, or at least set him upon the right path towards those who could. Adventurer, scholar, knight, perhaps even monarch, all these words ran through his mind as he looked upon the strange trappings of this place.
The books he looked upon, settled within a strange, box-like shelf, were expertly bound, but nowhere near as heavy as the tomes that he’d been forced to read during his time as an apprentice. The words within were strange, but a simple spell allowed him the chance to read several passages, and it was revealing indeed that the inhabitant of this place, be they a scholar or a bard of some sort, enjoyed the amusements of high adventure, and perhaps penned them as a writer in his own world might, with little true attention to detail and an eye for the most ungainly action possible.
So intent upon the tomes was he that the sound of a door opening didn’t register until it was too late. As two sharp, cracking reports issued he felt two separate impacts upon his body as he doubled over in pain, feeling the heat and the pain of his wounds as he tried to straighten up, his voice coming forth in a croak as he tried to mutter the words to a spell.
Unfortunately, another croaking call was all that emerged.
(to be continued)