RaNdOM
Nature is a funny old thing. Fickle and unbothered by the changing of the world, the birth and death of animals and men, nature cares only about moving forward. Completing the circle, renewing the cycle, however destructive it may be. Did Caiside think about this, as he was torn and ripped asunder, as he hammered desperately at the doors to his salvation? Probably not. Perhaps he would dream of it, though, in his endless and eternal sleep.
His would-be saviours are too late; dilly-dallying over their good deed has turned them into accidental murderers.Jigano opens the door and there is nothing but black, at first. Black to obscure the window they had so cleverly installed, black to hide the snow and the blood. But sprawled somewhere to the right of the doors is what’s left of Caiside.
Jigano will not see much - hunks of red hair, a hand whose fingernails are bloodied from clawing at doors and walls, and a great, dark thing hunched over the body. Feasting.
It screeches at the sudden pooling of light from within the guild, whipping away and into the night - but not before something long and barbed snaps out from its misshapen form, lashing at the bard and wounding him on the shoulder. He is lucky - this time.
His would-be saviours are too late; dilly-dallying over their good deed has turned them into accidental murderers.
Jigano will not see much - hunks of red hair, a hand whose fingernails are bloodied from clawing at doors and walls, and a great, dark thing hunched over the body. Feasting.
It screeches at the sudden pooling of light from within the guild, whipping away and into the night - but not before something long and barbed snaps out from its misshapen form, lashing at the bard and wounding him on the shoulder. He is lucky - this time.
EVENT
