He was in Hearthglen, the bodies of the deceased lay about him in droves. He stood alone. All was still and silent, the only other noise besides his beating heart and breath was the wind blowing past him. The dead bore the faces of those he once knew. The militia he fought with there, the knights who saved them, the undead who attacked them, the other footmen from the party. Everyone. Dead. He wandered the streets, looking at the destruction that had been wrought. The buildings were aflame, the towers knocked down, everything was in ruin. Till he turned a corner...And saw the herald. "Milord." He called after him, making Saidivh quirk an eyebrow at him. "Milord?" he said again, drawing Saidivh from his queer dream. He rubbed the sand from his eyes as he looked up "Yes?" He responded groggi