When the Radion Psytower gets your scent in its glands

  1.  As you gaze down, you find that you are now wearing a worn tabard with heraldry of a lord you do not recognize. It is rent with many holes from sword or arrow or dagger.
  2. Your teeth are clattering, clicking against one another, rapidly and frenetically. You find it difficult to concentrate or focus. 
  3. Your boots are slipping and slipping on the ground, slick with a strange slimy bioluminescent mud. Try with all your might, scraping it against flagstones, it is stuck fast.
  4. You hear a clink of coins. Looking down, a trail of large ants is descending from your coin purse, each bearing a piece of currency on its back. 
  5. The harsh circuitous winds carry the sound of the Lost Seraphim’s laughter to your ears. It is all you can hear. Nothing but the laughter fills your ears.
  6. Behind your left shoulder you hear the panting of many mouths, hot breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. A single drop of boiling saliva drips slowly onto your skin. When you turn, there is nothing there.

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