Ralston Allcott

Turning to look Xaxil up and down, he gave a thin smile, and a nod to the man. His story was indeed one that Ralston could listen to again and again. It was a tale of sorrow and of a homeland plagued, but he himself had suffered through similar plight at the hands of the dead.

His mind was brought back to more pertinent things though when the gates of the town were passed. He kept to the back of their small procession, his eyes trying to pierce that thin veil of fog that covered the town. His spoke, his voice grim and kept silent, as if someone might be listening.

"I've got a bad feeling about this. Hard to see in this haze, and it doesn't smell very nice either...Anyone see signs of life?"