Role

Chapter 3

Many people speak of a point in life where one reaches a fork in the
where a decision is made do you take the path on the left or the path
on the right. But sometimes the choice being made is not your own and
instead of going left your right you get slammed straight through the
boulder that the road sign has been errected on.

...

As the light starts to fade with the setting sun, Brynaen pushes
himself to his feet, moving through the doorway towards the City Garden
he nervously peers outside while filling a jug with water. One by
one streetlamps are lit, and the shuffling steps of Arkham's citizens
retreating to their homes can be heard. A low fog slowly starts to
move through the streets covering the city streets, a sudden chill runs
up Brynaens spine as a several loud agonizing screams echo from the
forests to the north, followed by an eerie quietness. Turning his back
to the streets Brynaen retreats from the garden mumbling under his breath.

...

Brynaen jerks suddenly in his sleep, the sounds of constant pounding
filling his ears, a sinking feeling balls in the bottom of his stomach,
something is very very wrong peering towards the south his gaze is met
by two dark red eyes that appear to be floating within the deep shadows
of its dark hood. Terror grips him as the eyes hover through the gardens
and into Sanatorium gaze focused on a heavily blood soaked bunk. As the
figure lifts a translucent claw-like hand two more sets of eyes silently
enter the room. Pointing a claw like finger at the giant on the bunk a
raspy voice scratches one word from shadows of its dark hood ... "Mansion"