Sana

Sana nodded towards those that had agreed to come along with her; seeming the only ones willing to go where the women and the two that most of the world looked at as monsters. Perhaps they were but right then Sana didn’t care. With what happened to Hugh she wasn’t thinking or acting like her usual self, the fact that it had been slavers that had brought this on only made matters so much worse. Turning as she heard Hugh she ran over to him wondering what was going on. She had never seen him like this and had no idea what had caused the sudden change in his demeanor.

Resting down on her knees next to him, reaching up and trying to cup his face in her hands but his hands were covering his face and in his hair. The way he was acting was frightening her and as best as she could she couldn’t make any sense of the words he was uttering, the only thing that made any sense was him apologizing for not being good enough but even that didn’t sound right. He had done fine today, had gotten hurt and scared her but he lived and she lived. Was it something from his past? One of those horrors he had mentioned to her in passing but refused to speak about?

“Hugh,” she whispered as she tried to get his attention. “Look at me Hugh,” she said in a soft voice, “come on look at me.” As he seemed to calm down she sighed deeply, he seemed to look exhausted from whatever had just happened. She wanted to know what it was but she wasn’t going to push for answers, not now. She was afraid it would trigger something else. Instead she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close; resting her head against his. “It’s okay,” she said in a loving voice, “I’m here, everything is alright.” Running her fingers down his cheek she pulled back and tried to smile at him. “You stay here and rest. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Leaning in she kissed him softly. ‘You’re gear is right there,” she said pointing to the items she had brought down from there room earlier, they were only a few feet from them.

As Tobias went on his rant Sanas eyes narrowed as she looked towards him and rose from her place; fingers trailing off Hugh as she stood there. A look coming over her features, one that Hugh would know well and perhaps Drizzak would remember. It was the same look that came over her when a certain former associate of theirs snapped over keeping a Lich alive, a lich that had just tried to kill each of the party they had been with at the time.

“There are monsters in this world and most of them take the form of humans,” Sana growled as she stood there. “Have you ever dealt with these people before? Any of them? Do you know why they did what they did? No, anymore than we know why you have done what you have done to get by in this world. So fine, stay behind, tuck your fucking tail and run from it. Let them stay out there and turn a blind eye. That’s your choice but you tell me this. With more of these monsters in the area, you really think there will be any orphans left to save when we get back? Or what will happen to them once they are healed?” Sana snapped in a cruel tone that rarely ever left her lips.

“Yeah, he’s dead and you know what he won’t ever get to imprison another child, another son or daughter, another mother or father, another friend or loved one,” she added before rubbing her temples and began to throw as much stuff off Hughs horse Rodger as she could as quickly as she could. “Anyone coming with me, get your horse, we ride out now,” she said as she swung up into the saddle on draft horses back and held her hand out towards Vaeri. “You ride with me,” she said waiting to help Vaeri up and to settle down behind her. “Drizzak, you’re with her,” she said pointing over towards Fiona.

“Alright Lob,” she said turning her attention to the half orc. “Find the pack,” she said, waiting for Lob to lead the way.

Sister Agnes

Sister Agnes leaned against the post where she had last thrown up near and sighed as she took a deep breath. She watched the thief tear into almost everyone there, seeming to direct most of his attack towards Sana personally. She understood his anger and she couldn’t fault him for it but when Sana tore back into him she wasn’t surprised. Watching Sana mount up on the large horse she took a deep breath and stepped over to her.

“Be careful, these are cruel people. I have dealt with them before. They have kidnapped many in the area and…. We have found bodies in the forest and along the road of those they have taken that did not survive…” she added as she looked at the five that had decided to hunt down the rest of the slavers. She couldn’t condone what they had done or what perhaps they had planned to do but she wouldn’t try to stop them either. It was bad enough to lose children to an illness they couldn’t cure but to lose them to what Sana referred to as monsters was far worse.

Sana nodded towards the sister and looked over towards Lob, waiting for him to lead the way before she kicked her heels and pushed Rodger forward to keep up with Lob. She just hoped with all the yelling and fighting between the group and only being five of them it would be enough and that not too much time would have passed to let the slavers regroup.

It wasn't shaping up to be the easiest first day for a group, and Fiona felt a little uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Watching the separate exchanges from Tobias and Sana, she was quite certain that while both had strong points, neither really understood where the other was coming from. They were very different people from probably very different backgrounds. Tobias wasn't a warrior who dealt with problems like this, and Sana... well, Fiona was choosing to believe that she was not herself currently. Seeing a loved one in a great deal of pain could make a person do things they normally wouldn't, and judging by the way she and Hugh were together, they were definitely in love.

She was willing to forgive Sana the brutality, and she was willing to try and understand Tobias's viewpoint as well. That said, she was a very forgiving and understanding person, and there was no guarantee the rest of the group would take things as well. She'd make sure to try and speak with Tobias when she got back. For now, Sana was right. These slavers were a serious threat, even more than the sickness. It would be a great waste to find the ingredients only to return and see the village ransacked by thugs and kidnappers.

And apparently she would be riding with the goblin. Fiona's young adventuring career had led her to do a number of things she thought she never would, but very few of them had involved goblins. Considering that her horse wasn't the most trusting animal, she hoped nothing would go terribly wrong here. Swinging her leg up over the saddle and mounting up, she listened to Sister Agnes speak to Sana. It was starting to remind her of another situation, the one she'd found herself in when she met Tobias. That one hadn't ended well for her, largely due to a lack of planning on her part.

"We should try to scout out any traps or ambushes they may have set up, rather than just charging in. Make sure we know what we're up against." She knew Sana was currently acting a bit rash, but hopefully that would cool down quick enough, and hopefully Lob or Drizzak would be of use in getting them the upper hand. Looking down at the goblin from atop her horse, Fiona took a small breath, and held out a hand.

"Come on, up you get."

he wandered the village in looking for the bodies of the previous battle for even bandits deserve a proper burial It was one of the duties of being a cleric of Trew and it helped Mortosh went some frustrations for he was angry at Sana.

Angry at the idea that she would go out of her way to end more lives then needed. why couldn't they just and gather the ingredients they had found the first body it was the one that Sana had killed during her interrogation it only made him more angry but he realized that it was pointless to get angry but he couldn't help himself many would question why a cleric of a god of necromancers would be angered by death he should be overjoyed but many forget that Trew also a god of joy and death brings misery.

so he just hefted the body over his shoulder and carried him to the inn perhaps Hanzo or Tobias could help him in there burial Zam looked at him with concern ("Zam We Didn't Come Here To Cause Death Did We?) "no we didn't Mortosh" she answered as she pointed to a pile of ashes that wind hadn't blown away. Carefully placing the bandit down Mortosh quickly put all of the ashes into a jar then picked the bandit back up as well as the jar.

He shook his head ("We Came Prevent It But I Am More Sad Then Angry Zam For The Fact She Would Go Out Her Way To Cause More Misery Truly Saddens Me") he said to her as they approached the inn

So their little group would be all the women, Drizzak and the big, green brute whose name she didn't actually catch so far. Considering the shape of most of the party she had not expected much more, but the thing that really surprised Vaeri was Tobias' outburst. He did not seem the type to chastise others on the morality of their actions, let alone being able to express himself as well as he did considering the mental and physical state he was in. Perhaps it was because he had just gone through what he did that he could say what he did. Vaeri knew she hadn't actually killed anyone on this battlefield or really injured anyone more than necessary so she felt a bit distanced from his harsh words. Even if she had, Vaeri was a cleric of a War goddess. War is a messy, chaotic brutal place, and to ignore its uglier aspects or presume to be above them would mean that she was devoted to a fake, idealized version of war and therefore her goddess. However, upon thinking over Sana's actions, she decided she would try to have a word with Sana, despite her less than impeccable mental state.

Vaeri pulled her cloak back around her body and pulled up her hood up over her head. She carried all her belongings on herself, so there was not much preparing she needed to do. She grabbed Sana's hand and settled on the horse as best as she could. Horses weren't the animals most adept at climbing trees, and to gallop at full speed they needed to constantly weave through the dense foliage, so the art of horse riding was for the most part neglected in Lianyu. In her century and a half of living, Vaeri had never actually ridden on a horse. Well there was a first time for everything. But that wasn't her biggest concern.

Vaeri remained quiet for a few seconds, her stomach turning as she struggled with deciding whether to talk to the woman in front of her. Quietly, she leaned forward and whispered to the lady that could easily kick her off the horse if she so desired.

"Sana, I'm not here to pass judgement on you for your previous actions. I do not know you, nor you I; however, you did say that most monsters usually take human form. Just be careful that you do not become one yourself." This was about as tactfully as Vaeri could think of saying what she had. Now was probably not the time or place to say it, but waiting for the perfect time to speak was a fine way to never speak again. But Vaeri had a feeling that she had just ensured the rest of the horse ride would be awkward at the least.

Tobias snorted in amusement as Sana's retort bounced off his back. He flung the door open to the inn and allowed Hanzo to enter, bearing the wizard Melvus over his shoulder. Before he retreated inside, the thief stuck his head out once more. "Tell yourself whatever you have to, Sana. I don't give a shit," he said, and slammed the door.

He glanced around the inn to find a room full of people staring at him. Tobias looked down at his clothes and beheld them soaked in blood and slashed to ribbons. "... Oh." The crowd was silent, and Tobias waved their gazes away, exhausted. "Don't worry, the bad people are gone," he said, unsure of who he was talking about.

The monk had inquired as to his well-being, and Tobias sighed. "Oh, I don't know, I stubbed my toe something dreadful out there. I also got a little bit disemboweled, killed a man, and saw more horrible things than I'm going to be able to have nightmares about, so it's really not been the best day." He shook his head. "When I saw her... pull that shit with the arrow, I thought she was just crazy. Sounds like it's even worse, though: she thinks she's justified."

Without waiting for a reply, the thief marched up the stairs (gripping the bannister tightly as he did so - he was still pretty woozy from blood loss) of the inn. None of the doors to the rooms were locked, so it was quite simple to rifle through them until he found a set of clothes that could replace the blood-soaked ones he was wearing. The thief got dressed quickly, a skill learned from many early-morning escapes, and proceeded back down the stairs, hoping that the owner of his new clothes wouldn't notice.

He was in luck, as every eye in the building was fixed on a stranger sight - that zombie from earlier had brought a corpse inside. Tobias rubbed his temples and resolved not to deal with it.

"Something strong, please," he asked a nearby barmaid, and moved into the crowd to look for Hanzo. On first impression, Tobias wouldn't have trusted the monk, but he'd seemed to side with the thief in the conflict of 'sanity versus bloodthirstiness', so clearly he wasn't all bad. Worth getting drunk with, at least.

---

As his wounds faded from the touch of Sister Agnes, Drizzak found himself as fascinated as ever with the soft, soothing ministrations of the positive energies that healing magicks brought. He could feel as though his wounds were pulling themselves back together, a familiar but still strange feeling. He coughed, throat still burning as he was given a large bottle by the kindly holy woman Agnes. She spoke softly, and shared a rather unchaste wink in his direction. What was this... feeling, stirring his heart into an inferno at the sight of such a gesture? Was it because of her pure nature? Was it her kindly manner?

He pondered for a moment before realising that, no, it was in-fact his heart being stirred into what felt like a literal inferno. Quickly, he sparingly quaffed from the bottle of mint-ice before slipping it into a pouch in his small pack. He tied it with string, and patted it as if to ward off bad luck. Whatever had happened earlier, it had torn his throat up something fierce, but he could feel the cool effervescent flavors of the mint and the soothing textures of the ice almost massaging his throat like a caring lover. Had he just screamed too much? Was he too dizzy? Drizzak looked down at his hides to find only red. He stunk of blood, from his fingertips to his elbows and all over his face and chest. Regardless, he looked to Sister Agnes and pounded his fist against his chest. A sign of respect. He could not talk for fear that his throat would tear itself apart, but he could show his thanks. She was nice. He would have to bring her back the hands of the strongest warrior he found whilst on the hunt. Surely she would appreciate that.

Sana's stern order snapped him from his pondering, once again. If he could talk, he would have chattered laughter at the prospect of another battle not far away. But for now he simply wheezed in joy. Checking his whip and blade, Drizzak turned to Fiona upon her steed and took a moment to consider the enormity of the beast compared to himself. The fair, fire-haired woman was looking down at him expectantly. He was to get up on the horse? They expected him to climb all the way up there? Ludicrous. Outrageous. But Drizzak, to this day, has never turned down a challenge. Especially not from one who had nothing to expect from him. Drizzak walked around to the rear of the horse, patting its flank with a silent nod before crouching down and curling his toes to grip the earth. Then, with an explosion of muscular strength, he propelled himself into the air like a majestic bird of prey taking flight.

As he landed square on the horse's behind, he scrabbled his way to the saddle with various sounds of mute frustration and struggle. Yes, he was a strong goblin, but this was a live, moving animal he was dealing with. All kinds of difficulties were present, evident in the fact that he fell out of the saddle and off the horse twice before managing to grab onto Fiona's shoulders for support. He said nothing, for he could say nothing. He simply nodded that he was ready, dwarfed by the human in front of him and looking like a particularly bloody backpack in comparison.

@Luminosity
@Afina

Lob was confused, why did the That One Speak to her that way? THey were bad, they were dead, he wasent mad she took his kill, he was mad that they did kill. Those had weapons, they would kill, it was a good fight, it was good deaths. He was just dumb, dumber than Lob.

“Alright Lob, find the pack.”

All other wonders were gone as he was given an order, he moved from the eyeless to the headless to the limbless, each one had a scent and he was weaving them together, he found places where others had run off but circled the plaza once more before he bayed a fercious howl and took off on all fours, massive bone slung over his back as he began the tracking.

Now, aside from being a beast, he was still a barbarian. He survived by avoiding the obvious dangers. He kept his senses alert for hiding holes, snares and traps. he tracked by smell but watched and listened for danger, tracking a wounded animal often meant facing a cornered animal with nothing to loose. here were many scents to follow so there was more than one to watch out for.

He took them north, the smell is easy enough to follow with the woods on either side, he stuck to the brushes
and the lowest of tree branches. Soon he could smell the rotting flesh and meat, offal and gizzards traveled for miles untill the scent of smoke filled his nose, he stopped when he could smell dog and did not bring them any closer.

Looking around he gathered up a set of bear dung and began to slather his arms and chest with the droppings while looking for more for the others to hide their scent. Looking to the others he began to use tribal sign language of hunters to keep silent while talking in case others did not talk in sign.

"Many and dogs, one long away.

Group A

Sana rolled her eyes at Tobias and resisted the urge to smack him upside the back of the head, she had more important things to tend to than the ravings of someone that gutted someone and then had the lack of thought to chastise her for killing someone who had tried to either kill or enslave them. Following Lob she made sure to make the ride as easy as possible since she didn’t know how much the person behind her had actually ridden; those that tended not to have a mount tended not to know how to ride. Hearing Vaeri speak made Sana swallow hard and she let out a long sigh.

“I’m trying not to,” she said as they continued on their way. Taking a breath as the thought of Hugh injured coming to her mind. “I went overboard I know that,” she added in a remorseful voice, not for killing the man but for the brutality of it all. “Seeing Hugh like that… It made me snap. The man has been through more in his life than I would even wish on people like these slavers,” she added trying to explain why she had snapped the way she did. “He saved my life, has taken care of me, watched over me and it was my fault he nearly got himself killed. If I hadn’t called for him, that stab wound wouldn’t have happened, the thought of losing him…” Sana said as she tried to speak more but found herself choking back tears. She had more to say but she couldn’t continue and she rode the rest of the way in silence.

Lob led the way from the town and Sana kept pace a little bit behind him, weaving Rodger from the road and through the woods. He wasn’t as agile as Epona was but he was a good horse and was doing well. There was not a lot of underbrush to worry about thankfully. A smell started to emanate from the woods and Sana found herself having to struggle to keep from gagging. She had never smelt anything so horrific in her life; something on the wind smelt like rotting flesh, fire, death and other things too horrible to speak of. Just what was causing it she was afraid to find out but whatever it was Lob seemed to be following it.

Small streams of smoke came into view as they got closer to the camp and Sana could hear dogs barking. Oh joy, she thought to herself, just one more thing they didn’t need. Slavers were enough to deal with but dogs on top of it was not something she had counted on; granted she hadn’t counted on anything since she wasn’t thinking clearly from earlier and now because of the smell. Another thing she hadn’t counted on was the sight that came quickly into view and Sana pulled back on the reins of the draft horse and brought him to a sudden halt as the camp came fully into view and she gasped in horror. “Oh my god…” she whispered as she looked over to the others that were with her. It was worse than she had ever expected.

The camp seemed to be set up as a holding position for the slavers. There was a wagon that was full of men and women that looked like they had been locked up in it for weeks nearly starved to death and at least a couple from what she could see that were already dead and being stood on top of. There were several cages hanging from the trees with individuals in that looked to be in even worse shape. One man was tied to a post who had his back torn open by what it looked to be whip marks barely holding onto to life and a woman who had been hung from a tree; how long she had been dead was anyone’s’ guess.

There were several horses tied up around the camp that looked to be far better taken care of than the captives and more than a dozen dogs with teeth bared looking like they were ready to rip her and her companions throats out. There were only a little more than half a dozen of the slaves party there and the rest where nowhere to be seen but there were horse tracks that led out of the encampment and Sana worried that they were headed back to the village to finish the job off. She wanted to turn around and head straight back out of worry for Hugh and the rest but she knew she couldn’t turn back now.

The part of the slavers group that remained was armored up in chainmail and had their weapons drawn. Three carried twin blades, one with a bow, one with a whip and two with axes. The one with the whip looked at the group and smirked as he began to release the dogs and commanded them to kill. Sana jumped down and drew her bow quickly. “Make it fast, kill them quick,” she said to the group before she drew an arrow from her quiver and took aim. She wanted this over fast; one to get back to town as quickly as possible and two to get these poor people out of their confinement.

The monk let out a breathy sigh through his nose at Tobias's response. It quickly turned from sarcasm to reality, however, as he commented on his own near-death experiences, topping off his lamentation with Sana's strangely violent behaviors. The rogue seemed especially off-put at how justified Sana seemed in her actions, and Hanzo realized that. These were criminals, and they likely always had been, but the gypsy woman seemed nigh-insistent that these were practically monsters in human form. Then, perhaps, she was too justified...

It wasn't going to change Hanzo's own viewpoint upon it. As unseemly lives as they led, the monk believed they all deserved another chance. An opportunity to realize their wrongs and turn their lives around for the better. Loathe as Hanzo was to admit it, such happenstance probably wasn't going to happen - these bandits either believed they had no other choice left at this point, or some really were so beyond regard for humanity.

As Tobias went up the stairs, Hanzo followed, needing to put their unconscious wizard to bed. "It just seems so... dissonant," Hanzo explained absently. "This morning, she was different than this. I can understand the want to get rid of these criminals before we set out, but she is taking this matter to an extreme. Certainly, it doesn't help that most of the others are privy to such violent murders, but..."

Hanzo trailed off, and by then Tobias was already off on his own-rooting through one of the rooms. The monk exhaled strongly again, the burdens of being associated with so much death weighing heavy. He looked into one of the rooms that was obviously unoccupied, and gently laid down Melvus on the bed within. Hanzo took some of the loose items on the wizard's person and laid them on the bedside table for him to find. If there was anything the caster was missing, Hanzo was not aware of it.

While Tobias changed into a new set of clothes (that weren't his?), the martial artist went downstairs. While Sana had taken a group out to get rid of the remaining slavers, that left the men here who were either resting or cleaning up the mess. Those corpses wouldn't disappear on their own, after all. Realizing that he had allowed one of the bandits to escape, Hanzo suddenly hoped that the slaver camp hadn't been informed of the skirmish at the town, as it might prove disastrous for all of them - both Sana's group, if the bandits were ready for them, and the town, if they sent out a stronger party to raid them.

It certainly looked like Mortosh was covering the corpse plan, though, as when Hanzo came downstairs, he witnessed the undead about to walk through the door with a dead body over his shoulder and a jar of ashes tucked under his other arm.

Noting the surprise still coming from the inn's remaining patrons, the monk put a hand up to stop Mortosh from dragging blood into the inn. "Here, I can help you burn the deceased. We should do it outside the town, so we're not polluting the local air," Hanzo offered to the undead warrior, motioning outside.

To destroy monsters, one must be willing to abandon their morality. This is an ideal Melvus digested during his service to the Aesil faction, within Drisbane. Goetia had overreached their boundaries during one of their most recent 'Faction Outings', as they were officially called. Goetia incurred on Aesil territory, they hadn't been over excited with the outcome of their most recent engagement with the Aesil in the arena. Their solution to the issue was to take a segment of Aesil territory by force. This was a foreseen outcome by Princess Efrida, she had prepared her most capable champions in an effort to stave off the possible Geotian incursion.

The hour was late and it was long past midnight. Melvus was stationed atop of one of Aesil's many walls surrounding their expansive territories. His staff in hand, the folds of his cloak lined with vials of different potions provided by the Aesil. Several of which enhanced his spells in short bursts while many others healed minor wounds. There were other various effects, but Melvus was uncertain of his ability to effectively use all of them in the midst of a battle. Aesil's preparedness was not, by any means, a one-off occasion - Princess Efrida was often fearful of an opposing faction invading Aesil territory. She feared for her citizens and her champions alike.

It was a few hours before the sun would rise, raining down light upon the world, initiating a new day. During this period, the Aesil champions were preparing to return to their resting quarters - the possible attack hadn't occurred. Melvus turned away from the view of the outside territory of the city, unclaimed territory, territory which would, someday soon, be claimed in the name of Aesil, this was the dept Melvus owed to his faction, they had sheltered him, fed him and otherwise cared for him when he found himself in a time of dire need, he could repay it by fighting in their name.

As Melvus turned away, he caught a glimpse of something peculiar in the corner of his eye, he reared his head to see that nothing was out of place. From, seemingly, nowhere he received a spontaneous urge to run, to hide, to defend himself for his life. Shadow! he thought and not a second later an arrow pierced the space he occupied, passing through his incorporeal form.

"Champions of Aesil! Hold your ground! Goetia is attacking!" The shout originated from the deep vocals of who could only be described as the most fearsome champion of Aesil. He had never lost a battle and used only a blade - Swordmaster Cylus a man who wore a robe and carried a single straight sword at his side.

What was about thirty champions from Goetia were clambering over the walls, most of whom were spellcasters. Melvus was only provided with seconds to react to the apparent danger, he quickly lifted his staff and around him appeared an amount of ethereal swords which could not be tallied without ample time allocation, they revolved around Melvus. There are... give or take, twenty five of them... we only have fifteen guarding this wall... It is fortunate that regulated armies are strictly prohibited, otherwise this would not be a surmountable task... we are also fortunate to have Cylus with us, without him I would have doubts... Melvus extended his arm and from it erupted an appendage which shone with the radiance of the sun, it took hold of an enemy champion and tossed her off of the wall... Melvus awoke from his reminiscence.

The wizard found himself lying on a bed... The inn? How..? I must have been carried inside... after... I passed out? I certainly did, how else would I have been unconscious? Unless it was induced, I sincerely doubt it - I haven't had rest for over twenty-four hours and I had lost a good amount of blood... Having suddenly recalled his stab-wound, Melvus shot his gaze to his right arm, he then remembered the mending magic, the elven woman had employed in order to heal his wound.

Melvus rose from the bed, taking his sword and vials from the bedside, he made sure he still possessed all of his things, he didn't - his staff was missing from the room. The wizard made his way downstairs where he found it in the hands of what seemed like a citizen at the counter. "I found this outside leaning against the inn, any idea who it belongs to?"

"That would be mine." Melvus said to the stranger as he took his staff, the wood unscathed and the false gem remained atop. Melvus asked about the other members of the party, the townsfolk replied telling him that a few had left to dispose of the remaining slavers, Melvus nodded, and that the remaining few were disposing of the dead outside of town, judging by the smoke - they were burning the bodies. They also mentioned that they had left about an hour ago and were likely finished by now.

"Easy, Liam," Fiona whispered to her horse as they rode out, able to tell that he was getting quite nervous. The smells of death and decay were putting him on edge, as was the half-orc leading them along. Not to mention the creature on Fiona's back. Drizzak had apparently wanted to make his way onto the horse without any of her help, which she could respect, but after the second failed attempt, she was beginning to get a bit nervous herself. Finally, when the goblin had a hold of her shoulders, she offered no protest, considering that they'd delayed long enough. It wouldn't be a lengthy ride to put up with, at any rate.

Trying to ignore the fact that Lob had smeared himself with what she was quite certain was bear droppings, Fiona instead kept her eyes on her surroundings rather than her companions. It was unfortunate then, when the camp suddenly came into view, giving them no chance to sneak up on it or prepare an attack. It probably couldn't have happened with these dogs around, anyway.

From atop her horse, Fiona was momentarily stunned, even more speechless than Sana was, her mouth hanging open in shock at the scene. So many people... she didn't know what she'd been expecting. Maybe that the slavers hadn't been this successful? It horrified her to see, and filled her with an anger that she knew she would need. Looking at their opponents, it barely occurred to Fiona that they were outnumbered and facing more heavily armed enemies. She had no complaint to Sana's order. If she had to kill, quickly was how she preferred it.

Kicking her heels into her horse, Fiona drew her sword and charged forward, figuring that Drizzak needed no warning. She could carry him into the fight, and she was quite confident that he would find a way to make the most of the situation, and the height advantage of being on horseback. There were many foes to choose from, but it was the dogs that Fiona made contact with first. A downward stroke of her sword slashed into the neck of the first to come in range. Poor beast, she thought to herself.

Breaking off towards the right, Fiona urged her mount towards a pair of axe-wielding slavers, two men that looked so similar she thought they might be twins. Just as she was about to reach them, however, she saw a set of jaws out of the corner of her eye, and raised her left arm, her sword arm, to protect herself. The dog looked more like a wolf than anything, but Fiona didn't have time to think much about it. Teeth bit deep into her arm, and the force of the leap took her from the saddle. There was a brief moment of weightlessness before her back hit the forest floor, the fall knocking away all of her wind. She and the dog rolled over once, until the beast was on top again, thrashing her arm. Out of the corner of her eye Fiona saw her horse careen away and out of the fight.

Being more preoccupied with the dog tearing into her arm, Fiona quickly drew her knife from her thigh, awkwardly since she had to reach across her waist to do so. When she had it, she immediately plunged it into the canine's side, before shoving it off of her, and stabbing it again in the chest to kill it. Withdrawing her injured arm, she found that she could barely still hold her sword, and as she scrambled back to her feet, the axe-twins were already closing in.

"Got a cage all ready for you, lovely," the one on her left said, grinning. "Put the sword down now. Can't sell a corpse for much. Well, not to most people." Fiona glared back, her anger evident in her eyes, though they seemed hardly to care. She tried to hide how weak her arm felt.

"Your friends were torn to pieces in the village," she snapped back. "You'll get the same, for what you've done to these people."

Mortosh nodded in agreement of Hanzo Statement and followed him outside. Both Zam and Mortosh Found Hanzo to be of pleasant company he spoke very little he really spoke only when there was corpse to be carried they eventually had gathered up all of the corpses and toke them to an occupied plane.

Mortosh and Hanzo had set up all of the corpses in pile. they where ready to sent them all on a journey to the afterlife. Zam was playing her flute as Mortosh was preparing to light the fire when he finished he held his hands together and Began To Chant.

As You Retreat To Your Afterlife

I Hope You Left Your Sins Behind

And Forgive Those Who Caused You Wrong

For A Heavy Heart Shall Lead You To Nothing But Dust

I Ask You To Walk In Peace And Let My Words Be your Guide

To Your Chosen God

Amen

When He Finished he gestured Hanzo to light the fie

Vaeri let out a small breath of relief that her words did not cause Sana to become even more angry than she had been before. In fact it seemed like the anger she showed in the face of Tobias' accusations were partly a snap retaliation, and partly a facade to cover her emotional turmoil at nearly losing a man she clearly held dear. Guilt for actions that one didn't quite have control over was a common reaction Vaeri had seen during her travels. Although it was true that had Sana not called out for Hugh, he may not have been injured, it was a certainty. Had she not called for help, she might not have been able to avoid capture or injury herself. And it was not her fault that Hugh walked out into active combat unarmed and unarmored, but none of that was important when combat would soon be upon them.

Vaeri had seen and heard the anguish of those held prisoner in slave camp before Sana or Fiona did, and so had more time to steel herself. Silently, she gritted her teeth together. Brutality in combat was one thing. It was a life or death struggle, and limiting yourself with too many rules was a good way to be injured by less scrupulous opponents. And Sana's execution, while less justifiable, was a single decision and had been a surprisingly quick, clean kill. What these slavers had wrought upon their captives was not a single hastily made decision, but a routine. Cruelty made consistently over a long term due either to a lack of empathy or suppression of such. She was not quite sure which one was worse. Back in the village, Vaeri had resolved not to underestimate her next foe like in the previous fight. Now she resolved that she would not show them the mercy of a painless death.

The elf jumped off the back of Rodger as soon as they had entered the bandit camp. The dogs would almost assuredly attack the horse, and although it was a powerful beast, she doubted that it would be able to handle so many hounds at once. If they needed to retreat, an injured horse would only slow them down further.

"Lady Menhet, give me strength!" she shouted, casting off her cloak as she began to glow with white light. These slavers would know the full extent of Vaeri's Divine Power. The cleric gripped her axe two-handed with about a foot of distance in between them, a good deal of haft on both sides. Her power and range would be lessened with a grip like this, but the maneuverability and speed would prove invaluable against the dogs of war. The first dog leapt directly for her throat, Vaeri responded by thrusting the center of the haft in between her hands into the beast's neck, knocking it straight back. At the same time, another dog ran up and grabbed ahold of her left forearm, drawing blood with its teeth. She grabbed the hound's throat and in an instant crushed its windpipe the same way one would snap a toothpick. The beasts did not know better than to protect their masters. Their deaths would be swift. Vaeri tore the dog off her arm, causing further damage to her appendage before throwing its body at the one that had attacked her first.

The dog managed to dodge the body of its fallen packmate and charged again in a fury, only to be met with the blade of Vaeri's axe that split its skull into tiny shards of bone, blood and brain matter. She looked up from the corpse of the dog to see two men, each equipped with a knife in each hand flanking her, one to her left and the other on her right.

"You will not receive the mercy your hounds did." she spat at them, bringing her axe back up into a guarded position.

Sana

It was hard for Sana to get over the rage she felt building inside her from seeing the sights before her. It was beyond anything she had ever imagined. A part of her, that part that had snapped earlier wanted to brutalize these people the way they had those they had captured but it was getting pushed down and even with the rage she felt more like herself in this battle than she did the last one. Hugh wasn’t there with her, he wasn’t before her injured and bleeding and wasn’t there protecting her while laying his life on the line. Somehow that helped her keep her rage in check. She still wanted to put these people down and out of the worlds misery but beyond that now it was just a job to do and not pure vengeance. There were people suffering and dying, who were being held captive; that changed things.

Sana had taken aim and let her first arrow fly, it imbedding into the chest of the first dog that was closest to her and it tumbled over dead in its tracks. Turning she slapped Rodger on the side and yelled at him. “Get!” Rodger ran off quickly away from the danger, Sana knew he would either just stay back or run back to Hugh. Either way it was safer for him to be away from the fight. Sana was slammed in the chest by the second dog that was charging her and the third was quick behind it, biting down on her ankle as he fought the other off with her bow, barely being able to hold its jaws out of her face as it snapped at her; landing hard on her back in the ground. She kicked the dog on her ankle with her free leg, sending it yelping towards a tree and crashing against it before being able to throw the one in her face off her.

With a quick kick Sana was back on her feet, bow still in hand; running she charged towards the dogs that came at her from both sides and leapt up, landing on the side of a wagon as she drew another arrow and took aim as the dogs turned and ran towards her. The arrow flew through the air and went into one of the dogs necks; sadly in Sanas mind not killing it out right. These dogs were trained by these horrible people; it wasn’t their fault that they were after her and the rest of the party that was there. It was unfortunate but there was going to be no stopping them at this point. She just wished she had made a cleaner hit on the second dog like she had the first.

The third dog began to climb up the wagon trying to get at Sana, slinging her bow over her back she flipped backwards and landed on the ground down on one knee, the tear in her ankle from the bite was impeding her agility and she cringed as she righted herself, coming back to a standing position just in time to enjoy the feeling of her face being cut open by the tip of a whip. Spinning in her place she saw the man who controlled the dogs watched her with a cold smirk on his lips.

“Don’t worry lass, I won’t mess that pretty face up too much,” he laughed as the whip recoiled. Sanas eyes narrowed as she felt the blood from the gash roll down her cheek and drip from her chin. Putting the dogs down fast was one thing but this man was making her want to gut him but as much as she wanted to, she didn't have time for games and these people had seen enough horror in her mind to last a life time.

"You know, I told one of your friends I was going to fuck his eye socket with my arrow, I think I will extend you the same courtesy," she said as she unslung her bow from her back once again. The man drew back his arm and let the whip fly through the air as Sana nocked an arrow into place and took aim. The third dog coming up behind her ready to tear her apart but she held her ground waiting for the right time to let the arrow fly.

---

From horseback, the world seemed so much smaller to Drizzak. It was strange to see the world from the perspective of a horse and human, when he had been looking up at them for so long. He felt the power, but at the same time he felt that he was too high up. Too vulnerable. He needed to get off as soon as possible. But for the moment he would ride with Fiona. She seemed nice, and both she and her horse didn't seem to mind that he smelled like an abattoir and a burnt brothel all at the same time. He smiled, and patted her on her half-plate clad back before doing similar to Liam, the horse beneath them. Liam did not seem to like him as much.

Drizzak was surprised to hear of Sana speaking about her regrets on the ride to their destination. She and Vaeri spoke softly about the earlier talks with Tobias as if they were tragedies not to be named. Why? Why had the thief been so appalled? Why were the others that stayed back so terribly affected? They had a good scrap, and the enemy died good deaths. Sure, he went a bit overboard with the whole leaping off the roof thing, but what better way to prove he was useful? Sana and Vaeri spoke of monsters and men, and monsters within men, but Drizzak was stuck long before that. He was confused. If only monsters fought like they fought, and took blood for blood, did that make him a monster? Sana said in her talks with Vaeri that she fought because she was afraid to lose Hugh. The others fought to protect themselves, or prevent more slavery. But then, why did he do it? Someone said badguy and he jumped. For him, it was just all he knew. Born and bred alongside violence.

Drizzak scratched at his neck, feeling for the mark he had been given. He knew what it was to be shunned for differences, but to be shunned for similarities? None of it made sense. Food for thought, he supposed. It took a moment for him to snap back to reality and realize that the charge into battle had already begun. Had they reached the camp that fast? How long had he been deliberating over the words that were said? Lob had definitely led them well, if they had arrived so easily. The slavers seemed disorganized too. No lookouts and no perimeter patrols? Terrible effort.

Fiona looked to be driving the horse straight into battle and towards a pair of axe-wielding miscreants, but Drizzak had his sights set on another target. A lonely woman with a delicate piece of silver in each hand. A blade-dancer. He wanted to face her, the sudden fire from before rising again. But looking between them, he found several hounds eying him hungrily as if he were a snack to be snapped up. He didn't like that. With a final pat to Liam's flank, Drizzak set his sights on the first hound and leapt from horseback straight into it. Waiting was not his style, as he found himself wrestling with the hound, punching its neck as it snapped at his face and neck in return. He kept it at bay with his forearm while using the other arm to batter it away. He froze for a moment as his strength faltered and the hound was allowed a snap at his shoulder, where it latched on. The goblin felt the teeth sink in and spread pain from his shoulder all the way down to his chest and bicep.

Drizzak used the opportunity to dig his claws into its neck and tear out its throat. The hound went limp above him, and he rolled it off to find the other two looking him up and down, and growling angrily. They were aware of the danger now, wary to come near him as he threw the dog-throat to the side and drew his whip with a snap. They began to circle him, but he was in no mood to play games. Drizzak moved for the smaller hound, twisting his body and lashing out with his whip, seeing it wrap around one of the hound's legs before yanking back. The leg came shooting forward and knocked the dog off balance long enough for him to move in and stomp on its neck, returning a sickening crunch. This dog stopped moving just like the previous and he grimaced before looking to the last hound.

This one moved back as he moved forward, and as he drew back his whip-hand, the dog turned tail and bolted into the treeline. Drizzak stood confused, lowering his whip as he watched it scarper. Well, it wouldn't bother them now, he guessed. No point in pursuing it. The voice from the woman was far more concerning to him than a runaway dog.

"You. Creature."

Drizzak turned, voice returned, and spoke in reply. "Me?

He turned to see a slender woman, lithe and wiry. She wore lighter armor than her compatriots, and hid her face with wraps. She looked human, but Drizzak could not be sure. She was taller than him by about a foot and a half, and in each hand she held a 2-foot long blade of curved silver. She took a moment to point a blade at him. She had the prettiest eyes Drizzak had ever seen, blue and bright like sky-colored jewels. Her voice was soft, but sinister.

"Yes. You. I am Xilipha. I will be your opponent, just as your allies are for mine. I've always wanted a fairy companion, but I suppose you'll do."

Drizzak shook his head, trying to break the shared gaze and concentrate instead on the throbbing pain in his shoulder. His sword arm would suffer for it, but he could manage if he used both hands. He took a moment to put away his whip and draw his strange curved blade. Its surface shone in the light, as he held it at guard with both hands, bringing it up to his shoulder and aiming the point at the woman. He would need to guard high, as she was tall.

"Drizzak. We fight now. Drizzak win in two second. Show you he no fairy."

Xilipha laughed as she advanced slowly, it was a pleasant sound. Like a siren song, or a nymph's giggle.

"Do not be so sure, creature. I am not want to end this romance so soon. And judging by the red on you, you're bound to put up a glorious struggle. Come."

And Drizzak rushed forward, with blade in hand.

Vaeri did have to commend these men on one thing, her foes were professionals. They did not speak crudely like all their companions seemed to, and it was easy to tell from the way they were looking at her and each other that they respected her abilities as a fighter and each other to cover one another. They slowly circled clockwise around Vaeri, who rotated in place at the same pace to keep one from being able to properly attack her back. They were certainly cautious after seeing how quickly she took down the dogs. They were looking for a weak point in her guard, physically or mentally. And that chainmail would be difficult to get past with her weapon. Fortunately, Vaeri already had a plan around that.

One of the men stepped in, thrusting his blade forward, Vaeri responded by shoving the haft into his midsection, making him step back out of striking distance. At that time, the other man began moving forward. Vaeri aimed the pointed tip of her ax at him, trying to pierce him through one of the gaps in his chainmail, but it was a feint. The man sidestepped and slashed her thigh which was unprotected by armor. Vaeri stepped around and backed up to face both men. Her movement would be limited thanks to this injury, but now she was no longer flanked. She readjusts her grip so as to hold the bottom of the haft while keeping the same space between her hands, increasing her range and power further, but diminishing her ability to quickly maneuver the weapon. Each strike would have to be more deliberate. Any time one of the men would move in to try reestablishing the flank, a quick swipe of the ax would stop them in place.

Soon the men came to the nonverbal agreement that they would not be able to use the same tactics as they had begun with and shifted their stances to more aggressive ones as they charged in, weaving around and feinting as they went to throw off Vaeri's ability to defend. Instead of backing off as they thought she would, Vaeri advanced, taking a large step forward. One of the swordsman tried to stab her, but she let go of the ax with her left hand and grabbed his forearm before he could finish the thrust. In a moment of visible panic, he wildly slashed at her, cutting her face straight down the cheek, her right arm horizontally below the shoulder and the arm that had an iron grip on his. Each blow was like a hott needle being dragged across her body, but Vaeri maintained her composure. It did not matter if her limbs were injured, for her strength did not come from her muscles but her faith. And in the heat of battle, even the most grievous could be ignored.

With a mighty roar, Vaeri threw the man's arm to the side and grabbed him by the neck. That roar only grew mightier as she lifted him into the air and in a move that mimicked the previous fight with the dogs, threw him at his advancing partner. The human was not as agile as the hound, they slammed into each other into a groaning heap on the ground. Vaeri then extended her left hand, facing her palm down at the men on the ground.

"Perish! Flame Strike!" A beam of light pinpoints the men on the ground before a pillar of fire descended from the sky, scorching everything withing a 10 foot radius of the designated center of impact. Metal armor would not protect them from the holy flames, but would only serve as a conduit to better kill them. When Vaeri looked around, there were no more enemies to face. All the other men and the few remaining dogs were preoccupied with the other members for the hunting party. No longer in immediate danger, Vaeri silently prayed in thankfulness that she had been granted a spell that allowed her to dispatch the swordsman quickly, for they were skilled. Without Flame Strike, she might have even lost. Might have.

The slavers scene was as savage as any tribes victory, ravaging the dead or eating the fallen are things he has seen before in his life many times over. Savagery is a staple to a savage. He had smelled the enemy scent before and gave them a chance to approach with stealth before the engagement but the group was too loud and large for such an way. Lob had done his best to prepare them before the fight began, anything more would be up to themselves as those others entered the clearing.

Lob did not.

He stuck to the brush, keeping his stink as he slipped in a circle around the main fight. Against a single tree was a cunning enemy, a very fat 'hunter' who did not release his dogs but rather stayed behind the three while he knocked and drew as he took the time to drown-out all the noise to approach the tranquility of the shot. Sadly that zoning out wound be his downfall as the beast climbed up the back of the tree the archer was using as a shield and drew his club.

He hooked the ball of the club at the base of the branch and hopped back, letting his three massive frame swing down and SLAM into the archer, the shot going wide as all of the kinetic energy transfered to the overweight opponent to stagger off against a tree with a sickening crack as he fall down at an impossible angle.

Now Lob had a problem he hadn't considered as the three dogs now had him surrounded with them chained and nowhere for them to escape.

The axe-armed twins were unimpressed by Fiona's threat, and began their attack, immediately forcing Fiona on the defensive. Their axes were light enough to be swung with one hand, the attacks swift enough that Fiona couldn't reliably dodge them, forcing her to block instead. Each clang against her sword sent rippling pain up her forearm, and her enemies quickly took note of the pained expression on her face, not to mention the blood dripping from the bite wound.

They were done with their taunts, all business now, but so was Fiona. Arming herself with her dagger in her off hand, she found a loose and light branch on the ground, subtly hooking the toe of her boot under it, and kicking it up into the face of one of the twins. It struck him near the eye, and he recoiled, giving Fiona a brief opening to dart away from the swing of the other, and assault the distracted foe. His armor was solid, but there were weak points, and Fiona was quick. Her first knife stab found the side of his leg, drawing blood when she ripped the blade free, the man's pain allowing her to shoulder him to the ground, where she descended on him, stabbing again near the armpit, going for his heart. She missed slightly, but certainly got a lung instead, judging by his wet wheeze of a breath he tried to take.

Anticipating the other brother coming to the rescue, Fiona lashed out with a wide slash of her sword, nearly catching his throat as he jumped back. Wounded as the one beneath Fiona was, the brief break in her attack was enough for him to retaliate, bringing his knee up into the middle of her back, pitching her forward onto her face and off of him. Without thinking she tried to rise by putting too much weight on her injured arm, the sharp shock of pain making her waver for a moment. Next thing she knew, a heavy boot kicked into her side, sending a jarring pain through her ribcage as the force rolled her over.

The injured brother was unable to rise, but the one that had kicked her was quickly on her, striking down with his axe with rage. Having risen to her knees, Fiona deflected the blade aside, at the cost of her sword, which slipped from her grasp. The man's free hand went straight to her throat and clamped down tightly, picking her up to her feet and driving her back until her back slammed against a tree. His next axe strike she managed to block with her right forearm, the plated guard there protecting her from most of the damage.

His knee thudded hard into her abdomen, weakening her further, and immediately she was shoved back against the tree, the grip constricting her windpipe again, and while she still had the man's axe locked up with her dagger, she knew she wouldn't hold out for long. It was extremely fortunate, then, when her attacker was entirely distracted by the large flaming pillar that burst down from the sky nearby, incinerating two of his allies. He looked away, unconsciously loosening his grasp, and immediately Fiona took the opportunity to stab her knife up under his chin, the blade sinking in to the hilt and killing him instantly.

She gasped in a ragged breath when she was released, falling forward onto her hands and knees. The other brother had stilled, appearing to have bled out, or his lungs had failed from being filled with blood. Regardless, he was dead. Groaning, Fiona sheathed her dagger, picked up her sword again, and then slumped her shoulder into the tree for support, while she caught her breath.

Sana

Behind Sana the dog tore through dirt and earth, its claws gripping the ground with each long purposed stride it took; jaws open and a snarl on its features making it look near rabid as it charged towards the archer who stood there frozen in place. She took her time as she took aim; this was one shot she refused to miss. In front of her stood her target, the man that she thought was the cause of the lash marks upon the back of the man still tied to a post at this point; the one that had caused the laceration on her own features. The muscles on his arm rippled as he snapped the whip towards her, uncoiling as the world seemed to move in slow motion and everything but her target blurred around her.

Lips parted as a slow breath passed over them and her fingers released the arrow from its home and sent it on its path; cutting through the air towards its target but Sana was unable to see if it struck where she had desired it to. Piercing and burning pain tore into her senses as teeth bit down on her shoulder from behind and she leaned back, the crack of the whip echoing through the air as her bow was snapped out of her fingers when her hands came up. The bow flying to the side as Sana reached up and tried to rip the beast from her flesh but its jaw strength was far too powerful and Sana looked around as she continued to try to pry it off her. She screamed out as it continued to bite, small nips to deepening its grasp.

Falling to one knee she tried to flip the beast off, slamming her back down on top of it but it held its bite with a vengeance. Rolling over the ground Sana saw one of the fires flickering not far and did the only thing she could think of through the pain and blood. Rolling quickly she put herself and the beast into the fire; the flames flaring up around the beast, Sanas right shoulder and neck being scorched in the heat before it let go. Sana scrambled to her feet as she draw her dagger and lunged at the burning beast who yelped out in agony as she drove the dagger into its chest and ending its life. Faltering back into the dirt she frantically patted her clothing to put it out and cringed in pain. From her elbow to her ear she was burned on her right side, her cheek was cut, her right shoulder torn open from the beast as well as her calf from earlier.

Reaching into her pouch on her belt she pulled out one of the vials of healing that the Sister had given her and Hugh and drank it quickly. It stopped the bleeding and closed up some of the wounds but there was still damage; Sana didn’t care though, at that point it was enough to keep her moving. Stumbling to her feet she pulled the dagger out of the beasts chest, sheathing it and picked up her bow before it dawned on her that she still did not know if she had hit her mark. Turning on her heels she looked for the whipmaster, seeing him on his back on the ground. Walking over to him she nocked another arrow into place and aimed for him but it was not needed. Her first arrow had sailed true and embedded itself directly in his eye socket, killing him instantly. Taking a deep breath of relief Sana dropped her arrow back into her quiver and slung her bow across her back.

Drawing her dagger she ran over to the man tied to the post, his face buried beneath hair as his head had fallen forward and his back was to her. Sana reached up and quickly slashed through the binds that held him up; pulling him down slowly to his knees as she did. “It’s okay, I got you,” she said in a tired but kind voice, resting him against the post as she took his wrists and began to get the rest of the bindings off him. The man wobbled weakly, his head tilting back so he could see who was helping him. From behind matted hair dark eyes with flakes of amber fell on Sanas features and he trembled, his lips parting as a single word slipped over them.

“Sana?” the man whispered before he weakly onto his back. Sana looked at the man oddly, his face still mostly covered. Sana looked at the man quizzically before she slid over to him on her knees, how did he know her name? Pushing his hair back from his face Sana gasped. It was a face she had not seen in nearly fifteen years. He was much older than she remembered him but it was no doubt the same man that had tried to keep her from leaving the gypsy troop of her people a lifetime ago.

“Papa?” she whispered as she leaned over him, the man weakly reaching up and taking her hand, through all the pain he smiled at her; the same smile that came across Sanas features so often when not in the middle of a fight. The man simply nodded yes to his daughter as she sat there in shock and placed her free hand against his cheek. Sanas eyes looking at him and she couldn’t believe that he was there but what of the rest of her troop? “Where is mama? Ramara?” she asked quickly and her father looked away from her slowly.

“Gone,” was all he would answer. “I’m sorry for driving you away,” he whispered before he closed his eyes and the last of his breath fell from his lips. Sana started shaking her head quickly.

“No! Papa!” she screamed as she patted his cheek softly, shaking him somewhat but there was nothing that could have been done. He was far beyond help by the time Sana had reached him. There he lay, still holding his daughters hand and a small smile on his lips that had at least seen her once more before he died. Sana began to weep as she leaned over him, gripping his hand in hers; rocking back and forth slowly as it sunk in that she had not only lost her father but that her entire family was gone.

Melvus didn't see the point in respecting those who chose to brutalize, murder or otherwise harm innocent people for profit. He decided to find out what had happened while he had passed out. He looked around the inn, from what he understood only about half of the party had gone, so there should be someone else in the vicinity who could answer a question. There... At the bar. Melvus had spotted the, seemingly uneasy, man who had referred to himself as Tobias, he had what appeared to be an ale.

Melvus made his way over to the bar and claimed a stool adjacent to Tobias'. "Perhaps you could answer a few questions I have..." Melvus couldn't tell if he'd received the man's attention, he continued anyways, "While I was unconscious, what happened here? Most of our 'companions' have disappeared and the citizenry look like they've seen something terrible..."