Drop by drop, Sip by sip. The gold tinted crimson blood was gradually drained from the goblet with every new follower that it was passed to. Those who had had their drink looked at their new hands in amazement, flexing their fingers as they felt the newfound strength rushing through them while those who had not had their drink yet looked on with envy.
They licked their lips, as if it was the first drink they were being offered after a year wandering the desert, and eagerly waited their turns with parched throats.
But it was a thirst that would never be quenched, as with another sip taken, a peculiar sound echoed through the silent streets of the 'cockroach area' of the Lightbringers blessed city. A rhytmic tapping, bouncing off the ramshackle hovels that could barely be called houses and filling the air around them.
TAP...TAP...TAP...TAP
