"I'f I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover is the Sunlight/To keep the Goddess on my side she demands a sacrifice" - Hozier, "Take Me To Church"
Perhaps an hour before the first shift change, the storm begins to develop in the sky over Thurmaster to the south. Dalvar and Thunk watch in quiet reflection as lighting streaks among the clouds high above what used to be home to nearly a hundred souls, occasionally cutting the air like a knife as it touches down here or there on the ground. This continues until it's time to wake Jugg and Feruq, and the wizard and his stupefied comrade are fast asleep before the ponderous funnel cloud is born. There are a handful of false starts, but eventually Argus' prediction comes true: the twister makes contact with the ground, and the near-constant bursts of lightning illuminate the awesome, horrifying display of Nature's fury.
The storm meanders slowly to the northeast, close to the Halfcut Hills where Parlfray Keep is nestled, then abruptly south before returning to hover over Thurmaster. It spirals and looms over the village for close to half an hour, and in the flashes of blue-white light from the heavens an unchecked stream of debris from the ground can be seen. Trees, homes, the earth itself are drawn up into the clouds to feed the elemental beast. The dwarf and monk are certain of it: if any of the townspeople yet linger there, tonight they breathed their last. It is surreal to have this picturesque, entirely safe panoramic view of the storm's unbridled destruction and think at the same time about what it must be like for those cowering in their hovels in the backwater thorp before death takes them.
Eventually the storm continues its inexorable slide to the southeast, over the tract of trees separated from the Thornwood by the Woldcote River known as the Blessed Wood. The stars are visible again over the land and the sounds of the birds and beasts of the Redwood resume once more. The remainder of the second watch passes without incident, and Argus and Raphael likewise stand sentinel over an unremarkable three hours. When it is time to wake the others, everyone perhaps wishes they could have had just an extra half hour or so of shuteye, but by the time everyone has finished their meal and completed their "morning" routines it is already noonday.