Noticing the people in shock, awe, confusion, and general aimlessness, X decides to give some direction.
"Gawk harder why don't you? What, you've never seen a troll covered in gore, holding a severed head? Where do you think you live, Toronto? If you don't have a reason to be here, scram! For those of you magic types, stop staring and analyze the situation, or get a move on."
X is tired. Sprayed with gore, blood, and other viscera, he just wants to get home, get a shower, and find a nice dry cleaner for his work clothes. Hopefully this will all blow over shortly. If the sea of guns pointed at us, gets hostile, X is likely to lose his temper. |
