From the journal of William De Baran

The town was overrun, cultists everywhere to be seen. They preyed upon the weak, the women, the children. They converted the persuadable and sacrificed the strong to their mistress.

Oh their mistress, Death, did you truly mean for all of this destruction or are they smearing your name? Do you remember your brothers and sister, sweet Death? There is only one solution that is logical, one that shall preserve life for the many.

And so I call forth the power of your brother, Death, the jackal of the storm, Exodius. May his ruin of this town satisfy your thirst and may these cultists be graced in thine bosom. For as you see, this bowl which holds the water of life, is now empty...

And the storm rages on.


This piece was done by the skilled and amazing

The fox, William, belongs to me.