#theywillsee

Tendrokos awakes not far from the crypt he stubbled out of last night. He is wearing nothing but his pants, his chest has a long cut across the top and the lower side is badly bruised. His chest and hands are smeared with his blood, dried by now. He attempts to sigh, but realized he couldn't. Fen decided to stitch his mouth shut, punishment for his loose tongue. By now the poison keeping him from casting spells had worn off. He slides up slowly, surveying the graveyard in which he slept in. With a snap of his fingers, his robes and such would appear with a wisp of smoke. Perhaps he deserved this, perhaps not. Either way. He accepted the consequences. The Row will get laugh out of this. He doesn't really care. Let them come, let them laugh. They will see.