This night is quiet for what feels like forever, before another scream breaks the silence.

Tristepin, this time. Found in a large room, alone. He's found under a catwalk. His blade is kicked to the side, far out of his reach. A slash wound in his shoulder, deep enough to have been the reason he didn't fight back. A deep stab would is in his chest, tearing out to the left side. He's curled up, hand extended. "R O"...?

He tried to defend himself. What happened...?