Lirian found the mist to provide the perfect cover for his silent killings, as he moved through the alleys of the city, that were a slaughter ground for the refugees.
Bodies piled upon bodies and blood ran in thick streams to form deep pools of crimson, the red started to seep into the mists.
The mist no longer looked like a gentle blanket but rather a demonic fog of death.
Lirian used the blood fog as his cover, to decorate the alleys, in a similar but different way from before, it was no longer the blood of the refuges that spilt, now it was the nobles blood that formed torrents and rivers.
Yet as the blood mixed with the blood of the commoners, it ran all the same, with the same speed, with the same colour, 'In death all things are equal,' Lirian thought of an old saying, a saying as old as life itself.
