We were crossing a ridge when Corgan was lifted off the ground by something. "Shoot it! Shoot the tyrannosaur!" he screamed as blood streamed from the puncture wounds that had opened up in belly. I fired into the empty space above him to no effect. Then Corgan's ragged corpse dropped to the forest floor, and I was alone. Utterly alone. There was no dinosaur. There was nothing.
There is an important pair of fraternal twins. Possibly minor dieties, sorcerers, or maybe just an important pair of nobles. One is evil and one is good. The thing is, the one who looks evil at first glance is the good one, and vice versa.