Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20150912153321/@comment-6006054-20150915023902

Issalus slipped from the crypts, his pockets and pack laden with heirlooms of the dead. He walked through the streets, working himself along a roundabout way to the market. He saw a crowd gathering. Heard murmuring. Bite marks, guts torn out. A bit messy for his taste, but he still could not help but feel a slight thrum of joy in his heart. Perhaps another of Namira's fold, perhaps not a child like him, but kinship could be shared. If he could find whoever did this, he could finally spend some time with someone who understood the call of the dead flesh. A true companion.