"Well, a handful of years ago I had a rather nasty run in with this... cult. For a lack of better terms. Now, of course I wasn't the only one who ended up tangled with the group." Cyriana stared to the distance and shook her head. "They were a weird bunch - the cultists I mean. Two of our six man group were sacrificed on this huge altar that was hidden in a cave that had unnervingly many skeletons - not just any skeletons, mind you. They were the skeletons of dragons." The pale elf paused for a while to gather her thoughts. It was quite obvious that she did not enjoy telling this particular part of the story.
"To this day I'm not quite sure if the cultists actually had any kind of an idea of what they were doing." She flashed a humourless smile and sighed. "I was panicking - you see, I had lost my eye in the ambush that got us captured. I felt weak and scared. Still, I refused to die there, in the middle of nowhere." Cyriana sighed and touched the bandages covering the orb. "I heard this silent voice in my head - at first I thought I was going insane, but the voice kept assuring that everything would be just fine if I'd follow instructions to the letter." She paused, as if waiting for possible questions.