Gharn charges past the huddled figures of Charlie and Aira in a flash of leather and a cacophony of rattling mettle as he shoulder checks the compromised slab of wood. With ease he blows right through it and into the space beyond, nearly falling over the railing not five feet from the door.
The door leads to an outdoor terrace, and what's outside is disheartening. There is absolutely nothing, save for darkness and void , looking down Gharn sees the the house is simply floating in a black void.
Before he can even begin to process this information however, a man clears his throat to Gharn's right.
Sitting against the railing in an ever growing pool of his own blood, is a hooded man, clutching his gut and pointing a very ornate looking crossbow at Gharn's head.
