This world is beyond strange. I am awed at the human’s technology which is inundated with their curious fascination with nudity and cats.
I have been conscripted by a human, Fritz Wissler, to work against the high Lords invading this world. He has named us Storm Knights.
The others I am currently aligned with are an eclectic group of humans.
Plain words have strange, dual meanings here. Burning does not always mean fire. It can also mean to be rid of a thing.
We attended a place called a dance club to gather information. Though the ritualistic dancing appeared to be more like a place of torture. The humans voluntarily tortured each other in some sort of bizarre mating ritual. Metal chains and whips made of leather were used but I saw no clubs, that is not to say that they weren’t employed by some in an area unseen.