It was the sudden rustling of the ravens overhead that nearly urged the Matron out of her prayer, as she knelt before the statue of Drakkara. She had not even heard the small party of Sha'falas approaching her until they had each grabbed one of her arms, a third clasping from behind a hand over her mouth.

A scream rose to her throat, but her cries were muffled as she was quickly pulled to her feet. Gaining her balance, Ursah struggled in the warriors' grasp, planting her feet in the ground and pushing as hard as she could. Her heart sank as she felt her feet slipping, her struggle useless.

Slipping... Slipping... Everything was suddenly slipping...

Her teeth lashed out, as she bit the hand that covered her mouth. The foreign hand was yanked back, and she had the opportunity to scream out twice for help, before the hand once more found its way back.

They were tearing at cloth now, only one holding her. Franticly she flailed, the round edge of her knee plunging into her would-be captor's groin, and he reeled. The Third elf came forward, sweeping at the Matron's legs and knocking her flat onto her back, where she was stunned momentarily. Before she could make sense of things, a gag had been placed in her mouth, and the three stood over her looking down, much like the visions in her frequent nightmares. She made a helpless noise as one of the elves produced a blue powder, and the others held her head still, her eyes open.

Raising a hand in front of his face, he blew the powder into her eyes, and the Matron had only a few seconds left to struggle before her world enveloped in blackness.