( The fog turns into a light mist, then that too lessens into a form of clarity. The feeling of being watched grows only stronger... )

( But the war's still going on dear, and there's no end that I know... )

Setting: There are torches at important intersections, but they only provide a pinprick of light, and within the warren of Silverspire it is impossible to see the sky - none of the feeble natural light that was gained so painfully yesterday shows through.
Small light sources are not dangerous, but anything strong enough to use a trump or a visually ( Read more... )

After the battle for the town, during the clean up, a bit of conversation goes on.

( Wherin Weir are struck speechless by a dog. )