Ah, the castle you once called your very cherished and beloved home, now twisted and booby trap filled. What used to adorn the previously cream walls with shields and family paintings were now dark red and adorned with various portraits of a strange, large headed man. The halls still kept to their design for the most part, but there was certainly an increase of paths that had never existed before. Paths that lead to bottomless pits, bladed pendulums and dimly lit corridors. The sight of it all left your heart to sink into your stomach. The castle, once so warm and welcoming, now the very thing to drive many others away. And you, Belinda, you still can’t find it in yourself to be angry about it. Sad, yes. Bitter, possibly. But, angry? You didn’t really have much say in this place and how it looked now. All you can do is roam around and move on.
As you gently run your hands along the braid resting on your shoulder, the repetitive sounds of metal banging and rhythmic zapping can be heard, pulling you out of your thoughts and your attention towards a door near the end of a hall. A metal one with a flickering luminescent light peering out from the crack beneath it. That wasn’t there when you were among the living, but most of the sights here weren’t either. Growing close to the door, you call out. “Prithee, wouldst thou open the door?” No response, not like you expected one, however. So you engage in knocking on the door... Only to jump once your fist phased through the metal. “Ah-” Right... That’s something that will still take some getting used to... Against better judgement, you slip on through the metal, following through to the other side of the door.
“Good Den?” You call out once more, only for your expression to fall flat hearing your own voice reverberate off the walls. Pressing onward, you intend to get a look at this strange cold place. A dungeon? Maybe. You weren’t certain. If it was, it was the most impressive, well lit dungeon you’ve seen... Not that you’ve ever seen one. But within it’s wall, there was someone here. Someone was here! Chest filling with hope and excitement now, you make your way over towards them, always excited to meet someone new and always negligent on the effect it would have on someone seeing a ghost. Taking in the appearance of this person, you cant your head to the side. How curious. Was it a hat? A type of helm? It was quite large and heavy looking. They seem to be diligent in doing... something. The poor outdated soul you are, you can’t make heads or tails of what they’re doing, but you hover close to watch. To spectate. Perhaps too close. You have good manners, so you ought to know it’s rude to hover over someone’s shoulder to watch them. But you continue to do to, fascinated.
