The Dark Elf had been sleeping when the silence broke, resting in a sort of nest he'd made for himself in the Butcher Stall. Andrei had been moving more and more as the weeks and months dragged on in the God forsaken Lucerne, the “Doctors” spending less and less time trying to help the afflicted and more and more time with the incineration of the contaminated- anything and anyone they even remotely suspected were sick and a risk to the healthy. The key word in that sentence, was "Had". That particular danger, however, lessened in severity over the course of the last two weeks. For whatever, the “Doctors” that bustled and busied themselves with the infected had been seen increasingly seldomly as the dead mounted up with no end in sight, before only a small fraction of the original dozens remained. Considering that there was a distinct lack of burnings in the recent week, even these last “Doctors” soon ceased to appear in order perform to do their essential duty. For an uneasy few days, he hesitantly settled down in one of his many hideouts. Of course this was one of the far more repulsive sites, but it was almost guaranteed to buy him time to flee if the “Doctors” ever returned. Still having buckets of swine blood stewing and rotting in old buckets tend to do that. The scent of rot did little to bother Andrei, however, for he had since grown used to the stench of death.

However, coming back to the present, the Gypsy awoke with a start- the typical quiet of a grave and somber aura that encircled the city replaced with a certain feeling in the air. Swallowing in an effort to quench his suddenly parched throat, he rose from his bed as there was something… different now. Something that wasn't right. He cleared his throat, his hand going to the dagger on his side- his only companion in his lonely confinement in Lucerne- as he strained his pointed ears to try and find just what it was that changed.

Realization dawned upon him, as he peeked up from his alcove and out to the merchant quarter, what was different.
He can hear the sounds of a crowd. The noise of countless feet pounding on the worn cobbles that have long since forgotten what it was like to have so many storm down their paths at once, ever since all this started. For a moment he thought that perhaps they had found a cure, and that they had managed to bring life back to Lucerne. He found himself holding his breath, his body tensing as if it were preparing to flee, though his mind did not yet understand the danger. The sky, a fiery red as the sun disappeared behind the unfeeling and stark buildings of Lucerne- the last rays of sunlight shining through the barred window of the butchers. Perhaps, he thought to himself as the tension thick enough that he could almost see it before his very eyes, it was almost time to be free.

The city soon released the breath, though it was not as a sigh of relief as the people found themselves free of their infections and ailments- crowding into the streets, singing sweet praises for the gods above that spared them from their suffering.

No, when Lucerne’s breath was released, it was as a shriek of terror.

Andrei stumbled back in shock as the sounds of fear pierced the silence like an arrow through a heart, his face blanching in fear as the blood curdling howls of pain and last-breaths were carried upon the still air. From where he stood- as if he were nothing more than a mere cowardly field mouse as the owl prepared to begin it's deadly descent towards him- the silhouettes and shadows flicked past his place of hiding as the last rays of sunset illuminated the city, revealing their contorted humanoid forms upon all fours as they panted like beasts- galloping much alike to some strange wolf rather than striding upright. As these beasts raced past, paying no heed to the stunned Elf, what little hope he had kept close for escape slowly shrivel up in face of these monsters in humanoid form.

The any sane man would have sunk to his knees with a weak wail of despair as the monsters continued their dirty work- the sounds of horror and fear unrelenting against his sensitive ears-, growing weak in facing the nigh impossibility of having to escape this Hell spread upon the city.

But few men would ever dare to travel across the lands when monsters of all manner of shapes and sizes ravage the countryside, with young children and the elderly no less. Doing so for years and years would be nothing short of madness. And as a Romano- for that is what a Gypsy is, that was his specialty- Andrei was one such man, and has been for as long as he could remember. “If I have lasted this long when all the odds were stacked against me,” thought he to himself as the Unliving rampaged across the streets, “Then this will be no different. I will not accept death when I've come so far- not now, not ever."