Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160303163426/@comment-25038310-20160317151846

The shack was the same as any other at the outskirts of the town. Judging by the folk that inhabited the village, it would have been expected not to be. It was a destitute, poorly-maintained, shabby ruin composed of simple oaken planks and some stones here and there in order to support it. The house had small windows at each side, but they were barred off with planks, preventing anyone from looking or entering inside through that way.

The front door, which was made out of simple rotten wood, had been kicked in and barely held on to its hinges. The lock was broken.

Jericho, Aelwin, Jawan and Glorfindel (I'll just include his character for now) saw two figures inside the house. A familiar fellow just sunk to his knees, as red blood poured through the various fine plates of his armor. The piece of cloth that lay on his shoulders was drenched with dry blood, and both of his hands were dislocated, rendering him unable to fight back. The lower half of his left leg was severed and lay a few metres away from him, and he was losing blood rapidly. The severed limb twitched from time to time.

Holding Abello's throat was Abelkain, still masked by his long and pointy grey hood. He was also drenched in blood, but one could assume that it wasn't his. His heavy iron longsword had been used to sever Abello's leg. He briefly looked over his shoulder, dropping Abello on the ground as he wheezed, trying to crawl away from his attacker.