The Grand Chamber
Misha sat upright, her head resting in her palms. She felt a little dizzy; the lingering effects of attempting to override the Orc King's curse had not completely subsided. She would probably need a couple more days. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of that.
Grimacing, she recalled the past couple of days. Eating had been particularly awful, but she had forced herself to consume as much as she could, aware that weakness could lead to succumbing to the curse's aftermath.
Swinging her legs out of bed, Misha stood to her feet. The Elders had summoned her, they must have heard about her impending departure from Darkcrypt.
She winced as she walked away from the bed; dealing with the Elders was something she despised, perhaps even more than she hated each one of them individually.