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Goodnight // AU
Dec. 2nd, 2012 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oldrecordplayerHe's taking stock. Assessing. He heard the last of the wet, wireslick sounds of a body sliding off a blade a little over a minute ago. The main room is the worst; the "great hall", as it were, was a perfect place for an ambush. Probably meant to work the other way around. He counts bodies, he counts piles of ash by their distinguishing bones. After a moment of counting and listening to the heavy, all-too-soon silence, he signals for the others to spread out and check for stragglers.
The knights are more than happy to scatter to the four winds in search of something else to maim and rip apart. Surrounded by fresh corpses and broken glass, Zhas starts his more thorough investigation. He checks each human body to make sure they aren't in a transitional torpor (often checking by quietly firing a bolt into their chests), checks a few piles of ash to see if they left anything interesting behind. He looks at open books on the floor, notes the way the room's decorated, traces paths with his boots to imagine how it all happened. This was no coincidental skirmish, and these people weren't just a convenient meal in the middle of nowhere.
Something of interest: a group of them ran into a particular side room, followed by even more. Probably humans first, then vampires. Zhas raises his arm as he walks in that direction, not bothering to disguise the heavy sound of his boots trekking through the carnage. If something's in there, he wants it to know he's coming.
He pushes the door aside, weapon aimed and ready, eyes glowing bright in the dim of the room--but he freezes when he sees another eye glowing back.
The knights are more than happy to scatter to the four winds in search of something else to maim and rip apart. Surrounded by fresh corpses and broken glass, Zhas starts his more thorough investigation. He checks each human body to make sure they aren't in a transitional torpor (often checking by quietly firing a bolt into their chests), checks a few piles of ash to see if they left anything interesting behind. He looks at open books on the floor, notes the way the room's decorated, traces paths with his boots to imagine how it all happened. This was no coincidental skirmish, and these people weren't just a convenient meal in the middle of nowhere.
Something of interest: a group of them ran into a particular side room, followed by even more. Probably humans first, then vampires. Zhas raises his arm as he walks in that direction, not bothering to disguise the heavy sound of his boots trekking through the carnage. If something's in there, he wants it to know he's coming.
He pushes the door aside, weapon aimed and ready, eyes glowing bright in the dim of the room--but he freezes when he sees another eye glowing back.
