[se] people die and parties fail

ISLA

"Gods, I hope not..." Following in Wessex's wake, Isla shakes out her hands and lets blades tip her fingers, ready and willing to slice and dice any who might play target with her general. Only when someone does just that, it's entirely unexpected, and Isla furrows her brows and darts back from the Wraith instinctively. "What on earth was..." Before her eyes Wessex's nose grows red, and even with her dull senses, on the inhale Isla can smell the fresh piney scent.

"That doesn't seem like a Longnight... monster..." Glaring into the darkness, she spies a pair of foreboding red eyes. "Come out here and face us!" she demands, all bared fangs and claws.

apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood