I'm certain just a moment ago the light in my window was tranquil, the view affording simply moonlight, and yet what I see staring out my window is a city engulfed in flames.
I don't hesitate at all to rush out of my room, flying down the steps of the inn to reach the door. I don't even wait for anyone else to come and help. There's no time to plan, or to wait, or to ask any questions.
I run into the flames.
Screaming fills the streets. People are fleeing from burning houses and screaming for help. In the distance I see silhouettes of people on fire staggering about. Pandemonium is everywhere around me, and there's so little I can do to help anyone.
The air smells horrible; acrid and hot and burning. It hurts to breathe the smoke, but I run on regardless of the pain.
The slower I move, the fewer in this town will survive.
