"I remember the lands before the gates were open.." The old sage mumbled. His thin bony hands tugged at the bloody rag that covered half his face. His hair strewn wildly about his thin, wrinkled forehead like lifeless kelp. His ragged tongue licked across his dry lips as he caught his thoughts up.<br/><br/>"Before we had to align with the darker forces to fight the plaguebite of the west..." He croaked. The street urchins gathered around him to listen to his stories. "We were free to make our own destinies..." He began. "Now we're not free...we know the stories old man." An older boy exclaimed.<br/><br/>The old sage smiled. "Who says we're no longer free?" He exclaims. His bones creaked as he lifted himself to stand. He flailed his arms out, his dance was queer (ooc: Queer - 4. mentally unbalanced or deranged.).  As he madly danced the other street urchins backed away, then broke to run. Before the old man could figure out why the kids ran a sword plunged deep in his back, running through his body and tearing it's way out of his chest.<br/><br/>He let out a weak gurgle before dying on the blade. the swords man kicked the old man off his blade, then vanished into the darkness. "Free to make your own destiny?..." He says quietly.<br/><br/>The strange disappeared into the dark city. The torn remains of a city half in and half out of this dimension.<br/>