“Lets go Jhag!” Saran whispered fiercely, flicking his head back to stare down the soot covered, shadowed hallway. The area around the fortress was almost ablaze with all of the massive fires exploding sparks, as if they were angry.

“Jhag, we have to go. He only heard the last few words of your sentence. There wasn’t anything giving him a key to the rune. He only heard, he didn’t speak. He doesn’t even know it has power.” Harken was looking out at the warriors as he said that, and he didn’t seem as if he wanted to leave. All of the roads down in the slums are broken and seared black, showing that a fierce battle had gone on.

“Duck!” Saran screamed out, as he launched himself at Jhag, pulling him to the ground. Harken had a sharp eye and was already huddled with us by the time we had hid. “The bird. It had those burning eyes. Like the people in the city.” Saran said. “I’d love to know whats going on with all of the people. They look like people, but they aren’t. They don’t talk, they don’t eat, they don’t sleep, they’re not of the god’s creations. They’re horrible. I’ve watched a particular group for the five weeks we’ve been here. Their only time being near each other is when they start that bizarre chanting, and after the six minutes of that the go back to their broken, seared homes.”