Jake has never really been a well-read kinda guy, but anyone calling themselves an Elder God and being all random-acts-of-violence doesn't sound good. Nor does that explosion and the thing that appears in the bonfire.

That the crowd immediately turns to riot is a hell of a nasty surprise. Jake drops his plate, hand going to the bone dagger sheathed across his chest, swiftly falling back on both Marine and warrior training as he visually sweeps his surroundings for imminent threats. What the hell has gotten into people? It ain't the food. Or the beer.

He hopes, anyway.

"What the fuck?"