In this torrent, rain cracked on pavement, and cloaked figures wandered into a bar. The signpost was soaked as water coursed over its edges, the letters hanging and flailing about.
The lead figure gripped the doorknob and twisted. It snapped off – the structure was rotten.
"I expected this from Aradric… Amilia, don't you just love your home?"
Amilia's face revealed itself in this blurred scenery; her eyes shone as damped black hair dripped. "There are many situations involving abandoned workplaces. For example, Antonio normally entrusted me to raid and collect 'fees.'"
"An age-old trick of breaking legs and smashing vases. How original." Alistair sprinted forward and kicked the entrance. "Was it like this?"
"A warning normally came first."
"Of course it does."
