Jocelyn stood inside the tavern and what little light had been coming from outside the door died down when the wooden door got shut closely. They were in pitch darkness now, not that the light from outside had given any insight anyway.
The blonde made another careful step - and felt like water was passing over her, though there was no temperature change. The substance felt quiet thick, but she moved through it easily. The feeling of stepping onto mud and then --
She had only a second to yelp, and then slided downward for what felt like an eternity. Jocelyn was almost sure that there was no end, when her breathing heavied and she had trouble gaining oxygen into her lungs.
When she woke up, her head felt slightly dizzy, but to her relief she felt no chains or restrains, no headache, no wounds and no broken bones. She was relatively fine, as it seemed. Jocelyn looked around. She was sat on a mahogany chair cushioned with white lace pillows. It seemed as thoughs she was set atop a stone pillar. Only that fact made her cringe, thoughts of bloody rituals roaming throug her uneasy mind. And there she thought the tavern was safe - but nevertheless, she was still 100% convinced that this was better than whatever had waited for them outside.
Her eyes kept moving. Around the pillar is darkness and nothing but darkness. Of course, she thought annoyed. A doorway seemed to be the one and only way to get in or out this creepy room; about twelve feet away. But there was no way to guess how deep this pillar went and if it was safe to climb down. The more Jocelyn tried to see any kind of ground, the more it seemed there was none. She shivered. The situation was not at all making her feel good.
She tried to guess why someone would put her into the chair, why someone would even put a slide-thing beneath a tavern... but no answer would come across her mind. Thinking about answers or rather the lack of it, she suddenly got the deep, heavy wish to be able to at least talk about this whole mess with someone. Even if they had no answers, being two was better than being lonely in this darkness. Carefully, and not convinced that it was a good idea, she called out. "Is someone there?"
She didn't expect an answer and - what is that? Something was lying on her lap and as she looked down she saw the note book from earlier. How....? She couldn't remember it being there when she woke up, she couldn't in fact remember it being on her after getting up from the meadow whatsoever. Jocelyn frowned. The quill lied on the closed note book, basically begging to be used.
So the took the quill and opened the book - and gasped! Her earlier little note had indeed received a reply, not a useful one to say the least, but nevertheless a reply. She frowned and quickly decided that whoever had put her here, had written the few words beneath her own to mess with her. She was angry. Someone was playing games.
The quill in her hand, she began to write an angry note for when whoever had taken the note book to answer was getting it into their hands again to know exactly how much she liked this little game!
