Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20150311002226/@comment-5583506-20150312214938

(The Witcher series is golden, but the books are better.)

Sibern had black rings around his eyes as he stumbled down the staircase and slowly worked his way towards the counter of the bar. His voice was too hoarse to speak so he only made some gesture for Leah to bring him some ale.

His mind was still racing after the latest dose of moon sugar, but he really needed to minimize the doses. He was starting to run out and he hated to think about the consequences of what would happen when it did...

-

The room Velaryon observed wasn't very well furnitured. The windows were dirty and one of them had a large crack in it. There was a writing desk standing in the center of the room, implying that the man who had lived here had pulled it away from its original spot. A scrawny pin chair had been toppled, speaking of the fact that someone had forced their way through in order to reach the victim, yet there wasn't a single trace of a footstep to be found. There were several pieces of papers lying on the desk surface and a quill, still stained with fresh ink.

The body of the middle aged man was lying close to where the bed was. His mouth was open as if he had screamed out in his last moments. But it wasn't the expression on his face that was disturbing. It was the fact that someone had taken the liberty of plucking out his eyeballs from his skull... forcefully...