Sojourn of Sahaluusalal

[Fendolf]

"Hhhhhhhh..." The air was clear, cold and smooth. It could'be been any night as it eased towards morning.nn"Sahhhhhh...." In a world unseen, gray and empty, spirits wanderred. Some guided, others lost, a man sits beneath a rotting pine. His head on his knees, he weeps and cries in angruish.nn"Hahhhhhhhhhhh...." He died years ago, he can't remember how. He can't remember who he was, but he knows he feels no pull back to any life, he never did. Nobody missed him, some may have even glad of his demise, whatever it was. The spirits don't guide him, he is left to fade to woe in this dreary limbo.n "Come..." His head jerks upright.n "Who?"n "Come!" He plants his hands against teh pine behind him and feels the essence of rot and give on the trunk. Pushing down and away he stand wearily.n "What?" He no longer hears the voice from his ears, instead it's from within.n "Come."n "Where?"n "Enter!" He 'heard' enter, but it also held the meaning of the sense of a "You know were." and in truth he did. Of the few things he did know now in this world, one was the location of a crypt. He began in that direction...nn Upon coming to the crypt he knew an urge, not his own, to enter, and pleasure when he descended the old and broken stair. He quickly came to the corpses, rotten and broken things lying undignified.n "Enter."n The sense of pleasure ended, he was engulfed in sadness and agony, loss permeated the entirety of his ephemeral being. "Enter?"n No response, but he felt the sadness and regret of a thousand dying, unspoken loves. He wept and shambled to a corpse, reaching out he stroked the arm. His fingers felt the wrinkled and stretched skin, it was like badly cured leather, and he recoiled.n He was happy while he touched the arm, but the woe came flooding back as soon as he borke contact.n "Enter.n "A-alright." His 'voice' cracked with uncertainty and desperacry.