"Who died?"

An adequate enough question when in the presence of such an unusual occurrence; for the Raven, quite suspiciously so, was smiling to herself. Stood tall upon a plinth, her resemblance to a rather ornate-looking statue was uncanny. A statue that depicted the likes of a faceless deity of fertility or something equally as feminine.

All through the night the small group poured over maps and sketches together, brought forth by Big Boss and his men, until the plan slowly took form. Both plans however would require a great deal of improvisation which Xanderian was less than happy about but there was no choice. They quite simply were running out of time.