Meryn crashed into consciousness, drowning in the scent of iron and the sounds of chaos. She jolted awake to find she was sitting up against an overturned chair. Confusion gave way to panic as questions spun through her mind. Where was she? Who were all these people? What the hell was going on? Why did she feel like she got stuck at some renaissance fair? And there were bodies, actual bodies on the floor all around her, very clearly dead if the liters of blood soaking into the floor were any indication. Her heart pounding in her chest was almost loud enough to drown out the shouts and clanging of metal beyond the grand doors.
Swallowing back her terror, Meryn clamped a hand over her mouth and forced herself to her feet. A few others in the room were up and about. It was a wide variety of people, some looking much too at home, while others seemed just as disoriented as Meryn felt. One woman in particular, dressed like some sort of noble, switched rapidly between moods as she shed some light on the situation. Meryn half listened, desperate for any insight, but still feeling frantic and disorganized. She vaguely heard a few other people speak up as she crossed the room as carefully as she could to the shattered window.
If her choices were fight or flee, then there really wasn't any choice at all. Meryn had never been in a fight before, let alone one with medieval soldiers, and she sure as hell wasn't about to start now. Poking her head out the window, her eyes widened at what she saw. They were in some sort of castle, with a moat and everything. They were several stories above the ground, and while the castle walls were far from smooth, Meryn didn't trust that she'd be able to find reliable footholds all the way down. Plus who knew how long that would take before someone saw her – and possibly shot at her.
Pulling back from the window, her eyes darted around the room, searching for any solution. The door was a bust. No way was she throwing herself into a sword fight when she could barely even throw a punch. Plus, who knew what sort of weapons people here had. That left… Her eyes widened when they fell on the fireplace. She spun back around and poked her head out the window again, looking up. The roof wasn't too far away. And if the chimney was as old-fashioned as everything else in this weird place, she'd have no trouble fitting. But then what? She'd just be farther from the ground. But she supposed maybe there would be another route from there back into the castle, and she could avoid the chaos… It was a shit plan, but she didn't have many other options. What about the others? Meryn didn't know them, but she couldn't just leave them here to face these Claw people by themselves. Then again, she supposed her own plan wasn't much better.
She walked to the dead soldier closest to her and knelt down next to him. Pausing for a moment, she reached out and grabbed a knife from his gloved hand. Part of her felt disrespectful, dirty for stealing from the dead. But practicality won out, and she slipped it into her boot. Meryn had no idea what she was planning on doing with it. She only ever used knives when cooking, and wouldn't even begin to know how to use one as a weapon. But still, she stood and crossed the room to the fireplace, the weight of the dagger pressed against her foot.
When she reached the fireplace, she took a moment to steady herself, and focus her thoughts. This was something that was actually happening. She was about to scale a castle's chimney to escape medieval marauders known as the 'Claws of Anarchy.' This was her life. How the hell was this her life?
Gritting her teeth, she balled her hands into fists at her sides and spun to face the rest of the room. Meryn gave a short whistle, hoping to catch the others' attentions. Hesitating for only a moment, she placed a hand on the mantle and ducked under it. Meryn looked up. It was dark and filthy, but wide enough for her to be comfortable. Most importantly of all, she could see the blue of the sky at the top. Fully placing herself under the chimney, she pressed her back to one side and pressed a foot against the opposite. Eventually she'd maneuvered herself so her limbs pressed to the sides of the chimney, supporting her body in the middle. Then she started to climb.