As the rain unrelentingly pelted and saturated the cobblestones, the cracks in-between held the last remnants of a pale crimson which drained from the terraces of the Quartier Publique and the docks of the Quartier Marchand. Social circles are noisily abuzz, gossiping and speculating on the reports of somber news of a macabre assault upon the sailors and Gendarmes in the Widow's Walk and the savage destruction of the entryway of the Grand Theatre de la Cathedrale.
Rumors swirl of lumbering assailants trudging up from the depths of the sea itself and slaughtering everything in their path. The blathering of the gossiping would be easily dismissed, if it weren't for the remnants of viscera which clung between the cobblestones and the battered door and rubble at the base of the Theater, serving as volatile fuel to the burning speculations. Perhaps the adamant claims of an observed procession of carted off, lifeless bodies, some clad in the colors of House Jalabert's personal guard, in the wake of this possible tragedy hold merit?