ShadiousDragual

With the eldritch god imprisoned, trapped once more behind puissant seals in a language the small artisan could not understand. He now stood in a city filled with the corpses of the recently slain and the puppets of meat and bone used to attack the city. The smell of so much blood and rot fouled the air, his companions though battered and bruised celebrating their victory. But the small artisan felt he was lost in a fog. He walked with numb legs and feet. his chain blade falling from the limp fingers of his flesh and bone hand while his metal arm still crackled and sparked with the remnants of arcana. His heart beat like thunder, but his large bat ears that hung like the weeping branches of a willow tree heard only muffled noises. Through his trance, he saw and heard nothing but what had deeply shocked and wounded him. trudging with the last of his strength before his legs gave out. Falling to his knees as his trembling fingers and arms cradled what remained of his dear friend. the