There was a flash of color, of - something, what was that?
And then she was somewhere else. It was dark, although she could make out outlines, at least - the light was coming from her body?
Well. Body horror could come after she figured out where she was and what happened, probably.
She started to walk. Paused. Poked at the knowledge she somehow had, despite never learning it.
She pushed her will into a path, as easily as taking a step, and fire bloomed to life in her palm, illuminating her surroundings.
Cold stone surrounds her. Shelves of shining armor and jeweled swords, still worn by their skeletal owners, stirred. She quietly chanted the words for her shield this time, not wanting to make an error in the much longer pattern.
The skeletons start to move. A wave of ice slams against her shield, testing it.
But she knows, on a level as deep as her terror, what she must do. She knows it as she knows to breathe. It feels like freedom. Like power.
She gives a silent thank you to The Wild Empress, and pushes down her palm.
The area explodes with holy light. Most of the skeletons crumble, and the few remaining are easily taken down by fireballs.
She likes magic.
She picks out a couple of particularly nice-looking gemstones with her handaxe, and continues on. Being buried with them probably indicates value, but there might be no people around to sell them to, and wealth gets heavy fast.
She walks, and kills skeletons, and eats pickles, and forces herself to eat dried meat. It’s a long walk.