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Post by SILAS BLACKWELL on Mar 11, 2019 2:49:12 GMT
|"this is the next target."|
he says, towering over a large table that has a strategic map constructed on top of it. a single index finger looms over a city.
"are you sure? that's...not an easy target."
there's a pause that encapsulates the silence of the room. he takes a moment, glaring
"make preparations, one week."
he turns, leaving.
months have passed and still slateport remains a desolate, dark wasteland with no natural inhabitants, only invaders, conquerors. it serves as a reminder to the league, to the region, of what's to come. they can spend years preparing for it only to be caught off guard because that is what he does best: he strikes with unpredictable ferocity and aggression that is unrivaled.
on the outskirts of slateport stands a sole buildng thats empty, but it now serves another purpose. he's inside, standing on the third floor that was once a beautiful garden. all that remains is wrinkled plants and shriveled flowers. this is where he waits for a meeting that was unpredicted, and perhaps that is why it caught his interest.
the darkness of the night sky cascades over him as he waits.