Kraxix Solo Fights

You hear nothing at the next door. No breathing, no snoring. Nothing.

The door swings open, squeaking loudly as you push. As you glance about, it doesn't immediately seem like anyone heard you at all.

Inside the room, everything is once again cast in that grayish light you are so familiar seeing in the dark. Once again, you are faced with a totally empty room. This one has dust on some of the surfaces, so it's likely that it hasn't been inhabited in some time.

You don't hear much, but you do hear something in this room.

The door swings open, this one silently. Inside you see a lone figure sprawled on the bed and a large sack on the floor. There are a few cases about the size of a lunch-pail sitting on the small table.

Your rapier plunges into the soft flesh of her throat beneath her voicebox, punching up through her mouth and beyond. Her eyes open in shock, an attempted gasp soundless from your blade's positioning. Her hands fly to the encroaching blade as she stares into your eyes for only a moment before the light fades from them. Your blade slides out, her blood following, staining her sheets.

The sounds of the party below continue to echo through the building.

You find a simple healer's kit, a small journal, and a small chest with a large padlock.

You see that a good portion of the words in the journal are in elvish, the rest in tongue you are unfamiliar with. What you can make out seem to be routine entries describing a procession of patients, their ailments and their treatments. In the margins, a harsh script has a few appearances, and there are full pages in an angular script, but you don't know the importance of the words.