Slow curses of mournful cries, seemed to swirl about in the wind, forever taunting him. The rage of bright, burning flames leapt up into the sea of navy sky. Each flame turned into a licking hand at the lonely sky as if it was calling for it to come down to cease this torment. The tingle of the burn sitting on his shoulders, made his sights narrow towards the doomed city. Trembling feet found the sweet steps backwards, aiming him-self towards the surrounding blood river, the once heavenly life that kept this town going. Timid swears called out to the good spirits above, crying out for their help to save the already faded race of half elf and humans. The smell of burning flesh and ash alike filled the ai caused a wave of nausea to overcome his senses. Whipping his self around to face the muddy riverbed, the fog of the unknown demonic forest called him forth. Calling him to run and not to stop. There was something here that demanded he flee. As if to say he was not welcome anymore… as if he was somehow responsible for this horror to fall.

Dashing quickly through the mud, splashing the small globs up to his clothes and body, he could reply the awful scene through his mind as if he was watching it through another eyes. He knew somewhere inside himself that, that once glorious city would leave no bodies, show no signs of war, but just leave the massive mess of smoking buildings and animal carcasses. Rollin’ Hills was to lay ruins and he was part of the responsible party… meaning that someone would find out and come looking for him.