Some You Can Save
There were ashes everywhere. The young squire stood in the gutted manor, her duster flapping in the breeze from the shattered windows. Her name was Thea Dorran and the scales round her crocodilian eyes marked the tainted blood she had inherited from her great grandmother. Her Hexanhounds roamed back and forth sniffing everything. The baron was so upset he was coming close to treason in his ranting.