Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20170708203641/@comment-5543592-20181222220428

The shotgun was much more effective from that close a range. The Knight went rigid and teetered to the ground with a metallic bang, his brains spilling out of the remaining half of his head.

In the distance, they heard the sound of approaching Vertibirds.

"We need to get below." Tanner said, picking himself and his revolver up off the ground. He was still pale, and a violent twitch began to express itself in his right eye. "Now."

Kheiro stood, completely unaware to William's presence, still behind the stairs. The ex-Thongzi could put a gun to the prophet head's and pull the trigger. The whole thing would be over. Kheiro would die. The Royal Wasteland would be spared from whatever evil he could bring to it. WIlliam would be spared Kheiro's dreams. Even Kheiro, in a way, would be liberated. Freed from his sick, perverted psychology and mind that was not entirely his own, but instead belonged to whatever subterranean creature he claimed was god.

But then William would not have his cure. Kheiro would die, but so would he. And all the answers Kheiro held-- the answers to what Chahalheel was, what the dreams meant, what Hades was doing in the Royal Wasteland-- those answers would die with him.

The town hall was silent, saving for the occassion groaning of floorboards as the remaining Hundred-Hands made their patrols, but the tension in the room could not have cried louder.