
With a loud, frustrated grunt, followed with a small cough, Astra Asgren pulled herself from the ground. The position wasn’t much improved. She had gone from sprawled on her belly to bent over the ground and on her knees. She breathed deeply with effort, a throbbing sensation pulsing through her body, radiating from her back where she’d been… something... stabbed? She rolled ungracefully into a seated position, feeling sore and strange all over. The very air vibrated and felt foreign. Suddenly importance of what her body was feeling faded as she became aware of where she wasn’t. Where she now found herself was unclear, but it was defiantly not where she should be. There were strange people in robes everywhere…and they were looking at her funny.
******** me…. ******** I must have died. She growled inwardly, bringing her hands up to rub her face in anxious frustration while also wiping off her cheeks from being on the dirty ground. Resting a hand on her knee as she drew her legs towards her she seemed fairly even headed now.
As she surveyed the landscape she grew confused. This didn’t seem like any kind of heaven she had heard or thought of. Weren’t you supposed to feel elevated and holy? It also didn’t seem like hell. She wasn’t in much pain, save the throb that was now slowly fading. Soon all she was feeling was the usual burn of the brand stamped into her skin. It had been seared into her flesh with a hot iron imbued with dark magic. It was something she hated, but couldn’t get healed. None of her scars could be healed, he’d seen to that.
Striking ice cold blue eyes scrutinized every person who was walking by, but it is hard to tell what she was thinking. Astra likes watching people. It was her favorite past time. They were so much more interesting and diverse than birds. And as a hobby fishing was plain boring. If nothing else she was glad to still be in her familiar clothing, armor intact and all. She could also feel the weight of her husband’s sword laid against her back. She had claimed it after first taking off his head with same said sword.
There was nothing for it, she had to get moving and hope to the gods, though there seemed to be none, that these 'people' spoke the same god damned language she did.