When I didn’t, he continued, “That’s right, undead. I’ve faced the undead several times, but you never get used to it. You think you’re prepared, but there’s just something that sticks in your gut, this horrible feeling. Your hands get slick with sweat, and your sword is hard to grasp correctly…you really doubt your sanity in being down there, facing something like that. And the stench is unimaginable. But we were pulling ourselves through – I had started to come out the other side, where you start to ease into that unsettled feeling and use it to drive yourself forward.”

It was at this point that his mood noticeably darkened. I found myself easing a bit closer so as not to miss a single detail.

“Then it started to go wrong. We began encountering these, these dark…things…imps or demons…or fallen, I think they’re called. There were so many of them, all horns and flashes of red, attacking us from all sides. I don’t think you could ever really be prepared for something like that. We got disoriented, which was easy to do. It was so dark….

anything existence that dont like the symptom of hemophagocytic  syndronme must took advantage completely ,and run its course,on important conjure up in my mind is that does anything in the faction have some conjuction with poaramount more or less