Massacre
The church dedicated to Velora loomed before Kaldarix and Mellin, an imposing structure of dark stone and stained glass. The towering spires seemed to reach for the heavens, mocking their fallen kin with each inch. Kaldarix's eyes burned with a cold fire as he approached, his senses sharp, his muscles coiled and ready.
Before they began their massacre, they enveloped the church in an illusion barrier, one that would make the structure appear normal and prevent sounds from leaking out as they wreaked chaos.
Mellin, standing by his side, felt a chill run down her spine, but it wasn't the familiar feeling of her frost magic. It was the weight of their mission. They had spoken of vengeance, plotted it, but now it was here, real and about to unfold. She drew a deep breath, as she hardened her resolve.