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Old March 8, 2013, 06:55 PM   #7 (permalink)
Master of Games
Join Date: Dec 2012
Posts: 387
Wealth Tier: Sterling
Gentleman is a glorious SuperheroGentleman is a glorious SuperheroGentleman is a glorious SuperheroGentleman is a glorious Superhero

The gates of destiny shuddered closed, no more souls enraptured themselves in this night of horrors.Thread closed to more players.

A few guardsmen attempted to keep order by pushing back the growing crowd of onlookers while others poked through clues among the ash-shattered ruin of the house. Beyond a fire, an inferno had swept through, taking to dust all that had once been a home.

Two guardsmen were comforting a crying child, a boy of perhaps nine, when the Power-Addled DwarfGloan approached, pomp and vanity following like twin hounds. One of the guardsmen directed Gloan to the Fire-Hunting Detective as a harsh spring rain started to fall.

The Detective was a sharp, squirrely man with a constant nervous tic: He was forever turning his head to look behind him. This seemed to be beyond his ability to control, and none of the other guardsmen took note of it. "I am in charge here, my L-l-lord. Just an accidental fire. The boy," He indicated the Tearful Arsonist, "Accidentally burned the house down. Parents dead, of c-c-course. Tragic, but nothing the Thane would need to concern herself over." He left no room for interpretation in those meek eyes.

The Uncloaked DragonPrimith found herself drawn far beyond her will through a side street adjacent to the tragic devastation, where an open grate revealed the sewers that ran, like choking black rivers, beneath the city, there a man was standing, staring up at her, pleading for help. The sewer water was running high, and he was bound and tied and could not move nor speak for a cloth was wrapped around his lips.

The Dreaming ElfZahkin found that the closer he pressed against the crowd the further away he seemed to get from the scene of the fire, and the more curiously and infuriatingly strong grew the scent of burnt wood and ash-stricken bones and the voiceless dead until the grim sight overwhelmed his fragile senses and he quite suddenly collapsed and found himself only coming to when smelling salts were passed under his nose. His vision had not yet been restored but he heard the murmur of a quiet voice and the distant sound of a sob-choked scream.

The Red WolfRedwulf followed the two men, but they lead him on a merry chase, through alley and under bridge, until he began to suspect their destination was not in the Jasmine District at all. He nevertheless found that he knew that no matter where they were going, it was imperative he follow, until at last he found himself deep in a vine-choked copse in the untamed central park of the city, with no sign of the men he had pursued and without great certainty how to find himself a way out again. In the murky half-dusk, he tripped over a wet sack of some kind.
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