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anghraineApropos of this:
I know but...
She received no words in reply, no impression of Mystra’s face. Yet, as ever, she felt a flicker of peace—the peace that almost always accompanied Larissa’s prayers to her goddess, the sense of Mystra’s grace and crackling power. What did it mean? Was she going to be spared after all?
That hope died almost before it could form. The pod opened—the mind flayer looked down at her with its tiny orange eyes, tentacles writhing—the wriggling tadpole in its hand came nearer and nearer—
I am Larissa, priestess of Mystra, she thought desperately, as if her final memories might somehow remain to her after. I am forty-six years old, half-elven, a sage of the temple in Baldur’s Gate. I am—Mystra preserve me—
...anyway, going through the dialogue record now >_>
I know but...
She received no words in reply, no impression of Mystra’s face. Yet, as ever, she felt a flicker of peace—the peace that almost always accompanied Larissa’s prayers to her goddess, the sense of Mystra’s grace and crackling power. What did it mean? Was she going to be spared after all?
That hope died almost before it could form. The pod opened—the mind flayer looked down at her with its tiny orange eyes, tentacles writhing—the wriggling tadpole in its hand came nearer and nearer—
I am Larissa, priestess of Mystra, she thought desperately, as if her final memories might somehow remain to her after. I am forty-six years old, half-elven, a sage of the temple in Baldur’s Gate. I am—Mystra preserve me—
...anyway, going through the dialogue record now >_>