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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ladybird" data-source="post: 2915719" data-attributes="member: 10689">Two days out of Brightspan, they saw the burned-out stockade.Smoke had long since ceased to rise, leaving only charred gates and eerie silence. “Would you like me to scout ahead?” Varya offered, already fluttering up even before Kit could say, “Yes, please.”“I don’t think there’s anything to be worried about,” Kashan interjected, as the owl fluttered away.  The halfling sorcerer had spoken so rarely during their journey that at the sound of her voice, the entire group turned towards her, sending her into a flurry of shy confusion for a moment, but she recovered enough to say, “I mean – er – the magical residue – nothing’s happened here for at least two weeks. Yes, there was a Fireball cast here, but that was quite a while ago.” Regaining her confidence as she spoke, the little sorcerer slipped off of her pony and padded forwards towards the burned gate. “You see how the burning damage was done?” she asked. “It’s all focused here, on the gate. The rest of the stockade wasn’t even touched – only magical fire could have done that. I think it must have been a Fireball. And…” Kashan paused, concentrating for a moment. “And a Sleep spell. A very powerful version of the Sleep spell.”“Enough to put everyone in the village to sleep?” Honore suggested. Hovering right behind Kit, Gyles was starting to make her nervous, the way he was looking at her – as if he expected her to say something. Finally, he said, “My lady, may I go forward to investigate?”Kit blinked. He was asking her permission? “What? Oh – yes, yes, right, go ahead.” Kit waved her hand, motioning Gyles towards the gates. I’m really going to have to get used to that, she thought.“It is safe to enter!” Gyles announced a moment later. “There’s nobody here.” Still cautious, the rest of the group moved through the burned-out gates of the stockade, and fanned out. The village was both deserted and full of horror. Dozens of animals had been slaughtered, their corpses littering the narrow streets – dogs, cats, cows, even a few old horses. But there were hardly any people. A few very old men and women lay in their beds with their throats cut; but a few more were sprawled on the floors of their houses, and one was sitting at his kitchen table. “The Sleep spells,” Kashan muttered, padding around the village. “It put them all to sleep, and they came through afterwards to kill everyone.”“And the slavers took the rest,” Gyles finished darkly. Sister Alessandre said nothing to the others; just murmured a soft, sad prayer over each body as she passed by. “Took the people,” Gyles continued, as he strode down the village’s central street, “except for the old ones who couldn’t work anymore. Probably took the good horses, too, and the goats, and other animals that could be useful for food, and that traveled easily.”Honore stepped into the temple – a humble little building, dedicated to the nature-goddess Gunnora – and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh dear,” she murmured, stopping short in front of the body of a priest, lying face down in a long-dried pool of blood. He was in full chain mail, and a mace was in his hand. “This one…went down fighting.” They all paused, silent for a moment in contemplation of the priest, and the old villagers who had been killed. Finally, Honore cleared her throat with some effort, and said quietly, “Sister Alessandre? Will you help me give a decent burial to these people?”</blockquote>

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