A wave of warmth and calm swept over me as the symbols Zanza had painted across my skin began to glow, and I found myself unable to keep my eyes open. I shut them and everything just.... stopped.
I don't know how long I was out, but at some point I started to regain feeling again.. and it was like nothing I ever experienced before. It was as if I felt light as air, nor did I feel the cold scratching texture of the bricks I had been laying on. Slowly I forced my eyes into opening.
It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at .I was in mid-air somewhere, looking down at my own self... and finally it dawned on me. I was dead and looking down at my own body. Zanza was still chanting and waving his staff about. A quick glance in Vynirin's direction and I could see his body was just as still as my own and he had a more peaceful look on his face then I had ever seen him with.
I turned my gaze upwards and I could see a bright light above me, warm and inviting. I looked down once again towards my body as I began to move further away. I was not frightened, not even upset. I just felt.. as if I had been suddenly freed from years of physical and mental burden. But as I began to move closer to that warm light, I was suddenly jerked backwards in a very violent manner. Zanza had slammed his staff into the floor, ethereal looking chains extended from the bottom of his staff and had wrapped around me. I struggled, but they wouldn't give.
"Ol' Zanza can't be lettin ya go too fah... " I heard the troll chuckle darkly as he spoke in Orcish. "If ya spirits go too fah into da light den I can't be bringin ya back...." He muttered something in trollish again before I felt myself jerked backwards, everything darkening once again.
My eyes shot open and I gasped out for breath before beginning to cough violently. I felt a strong hand roll me over onto my side as I tried to fight to keep from throwing up. "Easy mon... you be takin deep beaths.. ya body an spirit is still weak from bein all split apart.." I did as the voice told me, breathing deeply and closing my eyes to keep the room from spinning. I heard a loud gasp and coughing from beside me, and the troll repeated the same thing to Vynirin as he began to regain consciousness.
What happened after that I have little memory.. my body felt so heavy I couldn't even lift a finger. Zanza had returned Vynirin and myself to our home and we were told it would be well over a week before we would be strong enough to be able to even walk. Kiyokko Sang'jour arrived soon after to take care of the two if us until we are able to get around by ourselves.
All of this to rid ourselves of the voodoo doll curse that the Cult of the Forgetten had placed upon us. And it wasn't even completely guaranteed to work.
"Duskreaper.... this had better damned work... or I'll kill you again." I remember Vynirin saying weakly from his spot on the bed beside me before he passed out.
If that really was death I had experienced... then I no longer fear it.
I laid nervously on the cold hard brick floor inside the Temple of Bethekk of Zul'Gurub, stripped down to only a pair of boxers. A few feet beside me in the same state of undress was Vynirin. But this was hardly a romantic getaway... the troll Shadow Hunter Zanza stood in between us in full ceremonial attire. He had finished his animal sacrifice and painting the runes on our bodies, and he had begun to chant in his native tongue.