*
While he stood behind some thick troll, Lorcan watched the pasty-skinned warrior named Dahlia step forward to meet her own bloody end with courage. He'd bring this story as well as other information back to Aldritch as ordered, but he had his own agenda while he was there.
He scanned the crowd, but didn't see the elder Saraid in attendance. It was a small matter; she would be about soon enough. Lorcan planned to request an audience with her, and discuss how he might rid himself of the annoying and humiliating burden of his current servitude. Until then, there was entertainment to enjoy.
And my, oh my, what a show it was. Lorcan had heard that his fellow redcap Grigori could turn butchery into a performance, but the act of eviscerating the absurdly overmatched Dahlia was pure art. The slaughter was too quick for his liking, but he did enjoy watching the pale warrior laying there like a gutted fish staring up at her slayer while the Glut bit into his bloody meal.