Wraiths, the dark, coal eyed, life hating shadows, since their first appearance had dwindled in number, then risen again as the dagger began its evil work of turning other creatures into more of their own. Then with the dagger secured away, their numbers began to dwindle once again. Even though the wraiths seemed few in number now things only grew more chaotic as fear either subsided or set in. Both a good enough reason for men to grow foolish. Arrows, bolts and bullets would seemingly fly through the air at random. Some passing through a wraith like shadow, many not. The room flashed with the warring of light and darkness. Effects and side effects of spells. Tables crashed and people cried, war cries and cries of pain, some hard to tell apart. A small fire smouldered on one wall, threatening to take a curtain soon. A large wolf had appeared from somewhere, growling deeply and lashing out at multiple wraiths trying to close in on Vendril’s backpack. Trying to reclaim their knife. [@LiegeLord]