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Third Host: Amitiel

September 30, 2008

Amitiel sat in the cold water. He wasn’t quite sure what angle the ship had finally come to rest at, but nothing had broken the runes. He had slowly circled around, following the faint glow to search for gaps, but everyime he drew too close to a wall or possible door, the flow would flare and throw him back. Time was difficult to track in the darkness, but he had the feeling hours had past. Enough that it might be morning by now with no further signs of life since the ship settled.

Maybe that was it. Maybe they just wanted him out of the way. He carefully rubbed his hands together. At least there wasn’t any chance of fire down here. That was either a point against their intel or a point in favor of this just being meant to hold him. Keep him busy until something was finished.

Amitiel was trying to work out what that could be. He certainly didn’t feel like he had done anything in the mortal world that would have elicited this kind of response. So it was going to be something supernatural and nasty and possibly filled with lies. He tapped the bit of machinery in front of him. NOt enough details.

Suddenly, he was startled free from his circling thoughts, noticing that the room was starting to glow steadily brighter. A pressure built up against his ears along with a faint whining noise. Amitiel cursed and threw himself to the machine, struggling to cram himself into a small gab in the machinery that would give him the most protection from every direction.

The world glowed a piercing violet-red and pain shot through his side as he was smashed tighter into his hideing place. The world swirled and rumbled, loud noises echoing through the water. Amitiel braced himself and waited for quiet to return.

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