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In a land most foreign, there lay the asylum for those that are undead, dead, or dying. Within the dimly lit hallways and corridors, only the mad sat about, their eyes dull and darkened, their skin an off pink, and their hair falling out, littering the dirtied floor that they sat or stood upon. Each room was empty, its wall facing the hallway barred with rusted, metal bars. Some of the mad mindlessly hit their fists such bars, but to no avail. Their anguished cries echo throughout the corridors, unintelligible to even them.

In one cell, a snake-like female was kept. A square hole in the roof showed the faint glimmer of sunlight, though it too lay barred. About the flooring, pieces of hay that were once a bed, lay scattered about along the dirtied floor. There was an old, wooden chair, in the corner of the room. Its wood was weak, and its seat was splintered, without a cushion. The gate to the cell held firm, its form remaining sturdy, even when rusted.

The girl sat upon the muck of the stone floor, hunched back against the cold stone of the cell, her long reptilian legs stretched out infront of her. She was watching the sun on the wall of opposite her, filtering in through the hole through the top, making its slow way across the stone as it had done every day prior. It was how she knew time was, indeed, still passing.

She slowly pushed herself up, muscles aching from the length they spent on the floor, shuffling about the room in a few tired laps, her clawed toes kicking up the dust, before she moved to put her head against the rusty iron bars of her prison, wondering how long the maniacs outside could hold her attention before she went a little mad herself.

As the girl presses her head against the iron bars, five sets of feet move across the floor. Four of them scuttle upon the dirtied cobblestones, while one’s boots scuff against the flooring. In a square formation, around the individual who stood a foot taller than its captives, walked four short, hooded figures, with toad-like facial features. Their robes were of a light brown, dirtied, and their feet were uncovered, and shaped as a toad’s. The figure in the middle had a fiery gaze, of a muted red. Her skin was a dusty shade of black, while her white hair was neatly trimmed, a short pony tail forming near the nape of her neck. Her ears are sharply pointed, and her posture was straightened.

The procedure pasted the girl’s cage, the four guards each holding a chain between their webbed fingers. One chain connected itself to the dark elf’s left, and right arm. One chain connected itself to her right, and left ankle. The fiery gaze drifts towards the girl, before turning her sharply featured face forward. The procedure passes the girl's cage, turning to the left of the hallway.

The nagaji woman startled as she was bothered from her ritualistic abuse of the rusted bars, before she tilted her head up and over towards the commotion. Her sharp, unblinking eyes watched them as they passed, looking over the elf with a very subtle hiss escaping her lips. As their eyes met, she pulled back her lips and flicked her fork tongue at the woman -- and then they were gone.

Stepping back from her bars a moment, the serpentine woman would reach and grab the splintered chair, her cabin fever reaching tipping points by then, tossing it with a harsh hiss of temper at the bars as she cried out wordlessly in her anger. ****ing toads!

The chair smashes against the iron bars, splintering to pieces. The sound of a heavy door opening and closing could be heard throughout the hallways, before the moaning and unintelligible words of the mad, locked within their cells.

During mid-day, a shadow appears upon the dirtied floor of the girl's cage, as a small white owl, with a black mask-mark around its face and beak, landed upon the cell bar's above. Within its beak, lay a rusted, iron key. Flapping its wings, its beak opens, as the key is dropped upon the floor of the cell. Then its wings spread, and flapped once, sending its form upwards and out of sight.

Sevgili was well into her afternoon brooding, when a shadow broke through the monotomy of the day. Her sharp eyes narrowed, head snapping up to gaze at the grate in the ceiling, her eyeridges lifting as she stood up slowly, gazing at it in wonder. It had been ages since she had seen anything other than the walls about her, so enraptured the female was with the form of the owl that she nearly didnt notice the key -- until it hit her squarely on her forehead.

Recovering from the moment she prayed silently no one witnessed, the serpantine female squatted upon her long legs, retrieving the key and holding it carefully between her fingers. Bright yellow eyes narrowed as she looked it over in her palm, then raised to glance at the rusted iron gate, barring her in her tiny cell. Two and two were put together quickly, and the female slowly shifted to push her back against the far wall of the stone cell, legs crossed beneath her as she held the key between her two enclosed palms, staring forward at the gate, silently waiting for nightfall.

Nightfall comes with passing time, and the asylum becomes quiet, except for the occasional ringing of a bell, and moans of the hairless, and lost. The cell of Sevgili becomes dark, and the moonlight above allows her low-light vision to activate, expanding the details upon the opposite wall of her cell.

A faint, green light slowly approaches from the right of her cell, as a hooded toad carrying a off-green lantern, stops to turn its head to the right and to the left, its right hand emitting a faint bell sound, as it moves. A small, round, and bronze bell hangs from a string around its right hand. After a few moments, it continues walking past Sevgili's cell, the off-green light and bell sound becoming dimmer once more.