Ferran Threll: Where to begin?

Verbal retelling of the Tonnorrono Massacre, first hand.

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"I know what to say, I'm just not sure where to begin. I suppose you expect me to start off with Tonorono, and, hell, I may as well.

Don't expect anything shocking, I've gone over the ordeal a hundred times, and even now it still doesn't make much sense. I was tasked up with a couple of other guys, Red Seven Eighty-Four, bunch of nobodies who got stuck on guard duty. Bunch of bigshots, important ladies and gents, had rented the whole hall out to use as their private reception room. And damned if they didn't get some reception.

Well it was me and the rest of 784 that had the privilage of watching them drink themselves to death on what was probably our tax dollars. Well at least I know now neither of those things actually happened. Small comforts, eh?

It was the biggest bigshot, something Gadwich or another, he got up and started giving his speech on some shit or another, I honestly can't remember. It was when he stopped talking, that was when I listened. Or, well, he didn't stop talking so much as no one could hear the fucker, since no one could hear fuck all. That was the worst part, utter silence. When youre robbed of the sound of your own heartbeat, thats not just quiet, thats death. Hell, it was only even a metaphor for me.

Just like that, there were fifteen of em, big bruisers in those ugly rags they always wear. I mean really there were only eight, but I swore by fifteen until I was flat out told otherwise. Eight just doesn't do the story justice. Anyway they're just there and before I can assume my heart beat once, Gadwich really had shut up. By the time my heart beat twice, the guys on either side of him were dead too, plus a dozen others; minus the decapitation. Mostly. After about half a second the place was already up in smoke and I was hopping down to help.

As soon as anyone knew what was going on, they were gone. There were maybe a dozen of us left after we actually had a chance to fight back. That was maybe the only time it didn't feel like fifteen of them, otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you now. About one of us was going down a second, along with what was left of the party. I heard about a word and a half from their ringleader over the sudden roar of the fires and creaking timbers. For about a heartbeat, and this time I can actually say it was a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, even for the big guys.

I didn't even drop my guard, really, but I took one hell of a bolt through the chest after that. Slammed me against a wall, which probably saved my ass. Broke a rib or two out of it, but I was grounded for all practical purposes. Got a nasty scar to show for it, but I'm alive. Well, technically I was dead for a while, but that didn't last too long. Everything immediately after that I don't really have a first hand opinion of, regarding the being dead part."