[color=lightcoral]Hector[/color]

As Hector made his way through the dense forest he began to slowly feel unease at the unnatural silence that surrounded him; it seemed like hours since he saw anything, but these god forsaken trees. A few times he picked up his pace as if pursued by an invisible attacker, but slowed down after realizing it was nothing. However, one time he swore he saw a unusually large crow hopping after him only to for it to disappear as he attempted to focus on it. At this point he was nothing more than skin and bones traversing this unending forest in the what once was luxurious clothing, but  was reduced to rags.

After an undeterminable amount of time the gigantic malnourished man made his way into clearing only to find it full of bloody crows; they were everywhere filling every nook and cranny of the field. Hector realized that upon his entrance the gathering of crows had all shifted their attention to him; their black pupils reflecting his  now gaunt figure. Something rustled in the brush behind him and before he could properly react he felt the cool edge of a knife brush against his throat. 

A feminine voice commanded, "Doth thee knoweth whither thee art Hector?  Nay! Surely thee jest. All knoweth of the realm between realms, the lodging whither the sun nev'r shines, the lodging whither the shadows runneth from themselves, mine dominion. Hastily turn thyself around and gaze upon mine visage or mine children wilt surely consume thee. Thus speaketh Morgana"

As the blade was abruptly released from pressing up against his neck Hector did as he was told and turned his massive frame around to face the woman. She was a rather petit female with long flowing red hair and the same dark piercing eyes of a crow, she was clothed in a gown crafted of crow feathers and Hector presumed she was the one that was following him before. He had so many questions to ask this intriguing woman, but some subconscious urge was telling him to ask a specific one; words that were burned into his brain came to the forefront of his mind.

[color=lightcoral]"How does one throw off the vestiges of death and return to life...my lady?"[/color]

Morgana seemed to ponder this question before placing her lips to the man's forehead and life returned to Hector; however, his forehead would be forever inscribed with the words "Homo, Fuge!" (Flee, Man!").  

Hector was startled awake by the noise of somebody addressing him and that is when he released he was still in the lodge trapped under that pile of rubble; he remembered loosing the will to chop off his arm and embracing death. How long was he out? Was that all a dream? He used his free trembling hand to trace the words etched on his forehead...What was going on? He observed the figure standing over him with a vague sense of  

[color=lightcoral]"I am...Alive...need help moving this fucking rubble...left here to die...by Piers...he betrayed the entire country...he is behind this whole disaster...it was a trap...a coup of the highest degree... he was working with the Chinese...major cities will be obliterated...nuclear fire...she spared me...told me things...mystical powers instilled via kiss...I know you will help me get free in order to stop him friend...Pierre Athene needs to die for this."[/color] Hector struggled to release this madness from his parched throat, but in his state of delirium he believed every word.