in the lowest of places

He was clothed at least when he woke up. That was a bonus. Usually, when he woke up in a weird place with a pounding headache there was half a chance he’d be without his clothing as well. Anders hadn’t really been one to drink much in his old age as a father of two teens. As a perpetually hated and wanted man getting black out drunk was not really a smart decision. Which was one of the reasons Anders was shocked when he woke up in a strange place with no memory of what happened in the days before. Then the realization hit him.

No, no, no.

Anders pushed himself up to his knees and buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying to draw any remnant of what had happened out from Justice or Elgar’nan or whoever had taken up residence in his head with him.

I swear to the maker if you have hurt anyone I will end it this time… he all but screamed to the voice within his head. I’ll make it my mission to destroy us both. To rip us both into shreds. You will not cause harm with my hands. You hear me?

Silence rang back at him. Whatever the ancient elven mage had been using him for must have tired the spirit out too much. Anders stomach turned and he used a nearby tree to pull him to his feet, still trying to find even a thread of memory of even how long he’d been out for.