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[h2][color=00aeef][i][b]Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=00aeef]Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 03[/color][/b][/i]

[color=00aeef][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 9 / 24    [color=00aeef][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 15    [color=00aeef][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A

[color=00aeef][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Township Square

[color=00aeef][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A

[color=00aeef][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A

[color=00aeef][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A

[color=00aeef][i][b]Ki:[/b][/i][/color] 0/3

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[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/k1vHhU0.png[/img][/right]

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Fear and horror brought his mind to a crashing halt. Silence descended upon BlackBerry, his eyes frantically tracing across the ground at the meagre remains, the belongings, and last traces of Cavendish.

Then Voice, that awful, terrible voice, speaking from everywhere and nowhere at once then continued. He had tried to trace it but had been left spinning, wildly glancing without any success into the surrounding walls of darkness that had descended upon them all. The voice had spoken awful truths of the others, he didn’t have to guess hard as to who was who in the voices monologue.

BlackBerry felt his heart stopped when The Voice referred, quite obviously to him. The words held no real threat or information but only confirmed with terrifying clarity what he always feared. He stopped breathing.

“It hasn't forgotten about you.” The Voice explained.

His eyes locked into the far, far distance. His eyes locked onto the Thing pulling him away from the present and deep into the darkness of memory.

“It never will.” The Voice promised.

Its Still Here. It still hungers.

Kosara’s screams swiftly followed by almost horrifying optimism broke him from his horror induced trance. Fingers first began tap, tap, tapping against his thumb. He then gave a quiet but sudden gasp as if he had been held underwater for too long. Immediately he clamped his mouth shut to against the smells of soot and burning flesh, so acrid it almost stung the back of his throat.

[color=00aeef]“What in all the hells was that?” [/color] His voice shook.

Breathe in through the nose. Breathe out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. He managed to hold fast against the waves crashing inside memories.

Lady Kathryn appeared to have been the first of them all to get her bearings back and he  watched with some admiration as she promptly got to work trying to drag one of the grotesque bodies away from the flames. In his mind Lady Kathryn absolutely had the right idea to get something productive done now and worry about the horrifyng ramifications of what they had just seen and heard later.

[color=00aeef]“Yes.”[/color] His smile wavered at the edges. [color=00aeef] “I suppose we should but …ah aha well I think you might all forgive me if I bow out of any barbecues. Does anyone have someone to deal with the fire, by chance?” [/color]

Blackberry stepped forwards a little closer to the pile of cloth and bone despite the fear. A dead man was a dead man after all, and without further need of any worldly possessions. He allowed Victoria the first pick of spoils and noted with some surprise that she plucked a bone from the pile. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know what she had planned for it. There wasn’t too much else to the remains that BlackBerry could find as he gingerly sifted through them with the tips of his fingers, searching for anything that might be a clue. He kept the astral limbs up and ready for any more attacks that might arrive. 

The task gave his mind space to hunt through The Voice’s offer. It seemed to be the usual affair of offering for a service, but to what? The words ‘World Born Dead’ rattled in his skull but met no answer for the moment. Perhaps some peace and a bit of space would give him time to think better and discuss with the others. The idea was…tempting. He was already scraping the bottom of the barrel on leads and people who would or even could help. He found nothing of obvious note to him in the pile other than a dire warning.

BlackBerry turned away from the pile and instead focused on the short-sword that had drifted his way at the end of the fight, at the end of Cavendish. It gleamed, almost flickering itself in the firelight and reminding him that he was unarmed again. A quick check confirmed that the hostage he had given his own short-sword to was no longer in sight which he could only be slightly annoyed at. He let out a little ‘huff’ but resigned himself to picking up the short-sword deciding it better than to remain unarmed right now.

The short-sword was in much better condition than his own old, dented, and sometimes blunt one had bean. The crimson leather of the hilt was smooth and tight, the metal shone and when tilted on its side revealed a razor sharp edge. It was a viscous sword, and had likely been in service for quite sometime with the evil man before him, but with it in hand BlackBerry felt at least a little more sure of himself. He made a mental note to inspect it a bit more later when there was time for it.

[color=00aeef]“One would doubt that Cavendish has little to say on the matter. He shan’t be using it again at the very least, and there appears to not be much else left save dust, bones and possibly a trinket or two.”[/color] He shrugged as Victoria laid claim to the back she had found past the battle field. [color=00aeef]“Unless the ah…being, or what have you, has any ‘Earthly Tasks’ for the ruffian sooner than we should hope or even expect.”[/color]

[color=00aeef]“For now though, it would appear we are to be left to our own devices.”[/color] He paused a moment, eyes still resting upon the remains of Cavendish. He gave the short-sword a testing swing. [color=00aeef]“For now at least, unless anyone has eyes on those other guards? I for one haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since the battle began.” [/color]

Fire. Battle. Death. It would be a lot to explain to anyone else watching or even the rest of the town as to what had just happened.

[color=00aeef]“Would it perhaps be too much or even somewhat crass to hope they had been in the trees?”[/color] He sheathed the short-sword, pleasantly surprised to find it slotted into the sheathe almost perfectly. [color=00aeef] “Do you need a hand at all Lady Kathryn? Or anyone else at all? How are we all?”[/color]

There were many other question he wanted to ask.