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[h1][color=royalblue]XEGA[/color][/h1]
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The silver-haired young man seemed to have recovered his wits, and now stood behind the woman with a sheathed sword at the ready. The way he held it, like a club, either spoke to a lack of training or the condition of the blade. There wasn’t any way to tell which, at the moment, but nonetheless Xega did not let the weapon intimidate him. He flexed his fingers, one at a time, curling them to his palms in a languid motion, then opening them in the reverse order. 

The woman introduced herself. Lyanna of Badarium. Another nation’s name that rang a bell, but no distinct memories would come forth. The woman seemed satisfied that no violence needed to be done here, and she sheathed her weapon and lowered her shield. She cleared her throat, slightly, and then addressed Xega.

“Wise magus, do you know what is happening here? Are we the only ones of…” she hesitated before continuing “…sane mind?” the word was weakly uttered.

“No.” Xega said simply, folding his arms into his sleeves. In a way, this was a movement of similar nature to the woman’s sheathing of her blade. It, as well as the finger flexing from before, seemed to be reflexes. Even if his memories weren’t entirely intact, it seemed his body’s muscles, slight as they were, remembered whatever movements they had been trained to perform in tandem with his spellcraft. “I do not know what has happened here beyond the obvious; we’ve risen from the dead, and I presume that the rest of you suffer the same condition I do in regards to our memory faculties. I hypothesize, thus far, that it is the work of a necromancer who intends to deliver unto us some fell task or use us in some abhorrent ritual.” He shrugged. “But one would think such a sorcerer would be present. And seems to me that such effort to raise the dead, in such a condition as we are--made wholesome once more despite our cause of death--would be more taxing than simply capturing some schmuck to bleed out on one’s altar.”

He took a few steps off to one side, looking around the chamber. As he did so he continued to speak to Lyanna and Edoric, though in the way a lecturer might to a student, and without looking directly at them.

“We are also not the only ones to have risen. I have already met a Miss Syrenia, of Iliandur, on the other side of this blood-soaked tower. And with her is another woman, who called out to us in hesitant confusion. I believe Miss Syrenia awoke before I did, perhaps by now she has learned more of our situation. I do not know how many more of these corpses will rise...nor what condition their minds will be in when they do.”

He heard a sound then, and turned towards it, his hands reappearing and falling to his sides. It sounded like a growl of some sort.

“Ah, of course. There is also the matter of animals. Of course I should have suspected we might encounter some blighted beast; there’s plenty of scraps for it, after all.” He looked back at Lyanna and Edoric, and simply nodded in the direction of the sound. Afterwards he began to approach it...Slowly, he rounded another pile of corpses lying some few feet from the tower, and came across a shallow pool of the murky red fluid. Standing in it, covered head to toe in it, was yet another woman, this one with pale alabaster skin and hair that should have been blonde, but had seemingly been washed in blood. Her appearance, like Lyanna’s, would have been quite pleasing to the eye were she not wearing the guise of some horrific ghoul. When she tried to speak again, only that strange growl came out. Xega stared at her for a long moment.

“...Has your tongue been cut out?” he finally asked, before he stroked his chin with one hand and muttered to himself. “How strange...I was under the impression that we had all risen with our wounds healed...but perhaps it is only whatever that caused our death that has been cured? Would Lyanna and Syrenia, being trained warriors, perhaps still bear scars that were gained before they died? Hmm…” He stood there, tapping his foot, for some time before he looked up, as if he had just remembered there were others there with him.

“I am Xega, of Xir.” he said plainly to the woman who apparently could not speak. “I mean you no harm, should you mean myself the same.”