Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20190213203410/@comment-24510587-20190216181544

"That it is," Vyrine nodded, as the roast rabbit was served.

It seemed that the ritual had already ended, and the mercenaries were carrying off the last remainders of the mess it had left behind. Upon the altar stood a scepter, which still glowed purple faintly. Morgus was not around; he was likely in his study.

Marr filed out of the caravan, as did everyone else, except Dar-Mitaal. The little Argonian remained seated, uncannily still.