“Sometimes it still stung where the slave mark had been before. It was long gone, but the burn of humiliation lingered. Speaking of lingering, her nose twitched at the odor of decay permeating the oddly shaped room around her. The walls were all curves and flowing lines with no square corners anywhere. The claustrophobically low ceiling looked like a stone clamshell that pressed down on her uncomfortably as if she were trapped deep underwater and being crushed by the weight of it. The carvings a...round the oval windows were of fish, eels, urchins, and other more fanciful underwater creatures that she did not recognize. She’d heard someone mention that this place was once a lizardman holding. Given that the structure squatted like a toadstool in the middle of a putrid swamp, she had no trouble believing it. She looked around at the assembled mages who called themselves the Cabal. As best she could tell, this deeply secretive group was devoted to the idea of learning all it could about magic.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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