Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20131023233155/@comment-6006054-20131027024928

Kenyon stood there, trying to decide whether or not this was a trap of some sort. The Soul Cairn was of oblivion. As was Quaqmire. It could be a ruse. It could not be. He sheathed his blade and took out the shard of the miasma he had. He turned it over in his hands, gazing into the eyes of his reflection in the inky, dark surface.