GeorgeWiseman

I can't remember the explosion – my last memory was following the Grand Master up the stairs, chasing down this obnoxious American guy and his little French girlfriend. What happened afterwards? I have no idea. All I remember is lying in the smoking ruins of St. Ninians, semiconscious, bleeding, my leg crushed under a wooden beam. Dust, ash and the smell of burning gunpowder made it hard to breathe and my ears were filled with a high-pitched whistling sound. I tried to sit up, but unbearable pain made me fall back down at once. Coughing hard I tried to look around, searching for a sign of life, but all I saw was debris, fire and smoke. W