<div class="floatleft">(http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h289/masta_loki/Thomas__Dresden_Files_by_dauntingfire-1.jpg)</div><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;">Cyrus Valerian</span></em><br/>HP 56 (Current HP 56)  AC 16</strong><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=9084)<br/><br/><sup><strong>Hurlin</strong></sup><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Just before the two of them reached the crest of the hill, the fine hairs on the back of Cyrus’ neck stood on end as if to alert him to what he was about to see.  A moment later, he felt as though the ground beneath his feet shifted just enough to make him feel a little off balance as he took in the sight of the annihilated populous.  He had seen death before, several times by his own hands.  But this…  To kill in the heat of battle was one thing, to wipe out an entire population without regard to innocents and non-combatants.  It was something only monsters were capable of doing.  Cyrus had not been aware that he had absent mindedly followed Pantea into the devastation until he was well within the city walls.  The surroundings reeked of burnt wood and charred flesh despite the fact that the fires had long since died out.  As he dared a slightly closer glance of the mound of bodies, expecting it to be a remnant of a kitty girl extermination squad attempting to destroy the plague from a location that had been overrun by the infected.<br/><br/>The truth sent a powerful shudder throughout his entire body that nearly sent him fleeing from the area.  Every one of the bodies had been male.  Cyrus became well aware that he was likely the only living man within the town, now entirely without defenses, and the location of those responsible for the gender genocide was entirely unknown.  As a result, the various sounds of the various burnt out buildings settling and gradually succumbing to gravity took on much more ominous connotations that made him wonder if the two of them were actually alone.  He was not safe there, and from the looks of things, was likely a target.  The sudden effeminate voice caused Cyrus to flinch before he remembered Pantea had been with him and that it had not in fact been an ambush.<br/><br/>The dhampir’s words had been heavy and bore very dire implications.  And yet, standing in the middle of the proof with what happened whenever the threat the kitty girls represented was taken for granted made her logic irrefutable.  Only monsters were capable of such a travesty.  While their minds may remain intact for a time, the piles of charred corpses served as a grim reminder as to what they could potentially become.  Then again, was there any direct proof that kitty girls had been the ones responsible for this attack?  It’s hardly unheard of that groups of bandits would plunder hamlets, killing all the men while corralling all the women for less pleasant purposes.  Could that be what happened here?  Possible, but not likely.  His time employed as a merc had taught him that those in his line of work who made it a habit of writing things off as coincidence seemed to share a comparatively short lifespan.<br/><br/>Cyrus’ voice was distant as if haunted everything that he had seen and that Pantea had said.  He did not relish the thought of committing the same atrocity that he was presently all around him, but it seemed that such things would happen regardless of his involvement.  It was just a matter of who will be on the receiving end.  “If it comes to that…  I will help do what needs to be done.”  Those words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but that made them no less true.