Everyone is dead?
One knight nodded.
Check them all again. We need to know who did this.
The knight bowed, strode off, and barked orders to the acolytes.
The entire camp. Slaughtered to a man. Brumvir included, laying full of arrows in the entrance of his cave, several deep wounds carved into his leg and torso. The bodies of the hobgoblin legionnaires were strewn all over. Some slashed nearly in half. Others blown to pieces. The kennels empty, the worgs dead as well. Who could have killed the entire legion and the giant?
“All this, done by only five or six,” Avrum said. “Formidable opponents, indeed.”
“A small band snuck in here, I imagine,” Avrum said, surveying the ruined camp. “The gate is unbarred, and unbroken. I imagine it’s the same group that caught Belagor and destroyed the cell outside of Watcher’s Rest.”
The ones with the Ethereal Knight?
“He travels with dangerous company.”
Lusyllec’s tentacles writhed. He arched one smooth brow.
“The Red Reaper for one. They were seen together in Oriac. That would explain why they came for the Princess. I imagine the tracks outside must be the Prince, himself.”
You imagine much. Ask the Shades.
“As you wish,” Avrum said.
The cleric cleared a space around himself. Avrum drew from his pouch a bleached skull, stained red from the eyes, and communed with Tornara’s servants. Beckoned the Shades.
“Did the Red Reaper destroy this camp?” Avrum asked.
And the Shades spoke to him.
“Does he travel with the Ethereal Knight?” Avrum asked. “Have they returned to Oriac?” He turned back to Lusyllec. “It is as I said.”