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Message: <blockquote data-quote="JollyDoc" data-source="post: 4390186" data-attributes="member: 9546">WHAT LIES BENEATH“Malfeshnekor?”  Luther asked once Wesh had completed Nualia’s tragic tale.“Perhaps the name of the so-called ‘whispering beast,’” Wesh offered.“But the wizard said we were too late,” Dex interrupted.  “She said Nualia’d already found what she was looking for.”“And perhaps she has,” Wesh replied, “as it is also likely that if this being was imprisoned, and she found a way to free it, then it’s already loose in the world.  Still, I think we’re obligated to continue our search.  I want to be able to return to Sandpoint and reassure its people that we did all that we could to insure their safety.They left Nualia’s lair and followed a short hall beyond the door across the passage.  This, in turn, led them to a large, L-shaped chamber.  A pair of doors, their faces carved with depictions of two skeletons reaching out to clutch a skull between them, stood at the end of the southern leg of the room, while to the east, the area narrowed down to frame a circular carving of what seemed to be an immense stack of gold coins that rose from floor to ceiling.  The edges of the coins were carved with tiny, spiky, Thassilonian runes.“Odd,” Wesh said absently.“What?”  Luther asked.“There’s magic here.”  The mage held out one hand, as if feeling unseen tremors in the air.  “It’s the carving.  Something’s not as it seems.”“I’ll check it,” Dex said.  “Just remember what happened last time!”  Wesh called after him.  The rogue shot him a withering look before turning his attention to the strange carving.  Several long moments passed as he scrutinized every detail, reaching out his hand now and again to touch a particular spot.  “What’s this now?”  He whispered.  His fingers traced a pair of slots, one on each side of the bas-relief, that would have been easily missed by someone lacking his keen powers of perception.  Each slot seemed large enough to accommodate something the size of a coin.  Reaching into his pouch, Dex withdrew a pair of gold crowns.  Kissing them for luck, he placed one in each slot.  As soon as he did so, the entire carving ground noisily down into the floor, revealing another chamber on the opposite side.  Dex turned and smiled smugly at Wesh before stepping through the opening. The area beyond was empty of any furnishing or décor, but three pairs of doors opened from it, one each on the north, east and south walls.  The doors to the south were odd.  They were made of stone, yet bore no handles.  An indented outline of a seven-pointed star, its shape covered by hollows and slits, graced the spot where the handles should have been.  Instantly, Dex though of the medallion Luther had taken from Nualia and that he now wore around his own neck, but then the rogue quickly realized the shape and size were wrong.  Though the medallion bore a carving of the same seven-pointed symbol, it was itself round.  “There must be another key somewhere,” he sighed after several more minutes convinced him there was no way to bypass the strange locking mechanism.  “Maybe in one of the other rooms,” Adso offered.  Dex shrugged.  He didn’t have any better ideas.The doors to the north opened easily enough.  A barren room on the other side contained an upraised dais on which sat a marble throne.  To either side stood statues of a man clutching a book and a glaive.  A ghostly figure seemed to be seated in the throne, an image of the same man who appeared in the statues.  He looked to be addressing an audience as he moved his hands about, fingers decorated with hooked rings, but the words issuing from his phantom mouth were difficult to make out and in a strange language.“It’s an illusion,” Wesh announced, testing the aura once more.  “It seems to be malfunctioning though, like it’s caught in some sort of repetitive loop.  I can’t make out the words.”“I can,” Luther said.  “They’re Thassilonian.  He’s saying, ‘…is upon us, but I command you remain.  Witness my power, how Alaznist’s petty wrath is but a flash compared to my strength.  Take my final work to your graves, and let its memory be the last thing you…’”“Do you recognize him, or that name?  Alaznist?”  Adso asked.  Luther shook his head.  “No.  I didn’t come across such a name in any of our research.  Perhaps when we are next at Windsong, we can research it further.”The eastern chamber was even more disturbing.  It contained three low tables, their tops covered with a strange and chilling selection of tools, saws, long-bladed knives, and objects whose purpose was not readily apparent.  A strange collection of bones lay near one of the tables…too many to be one skeleton, but too few to be two.“Fascinating,” Wesh exclaimed as he bent to examine the odd remains.  “It seems to have been a two-headed man, with what appears to an additional partial skeleton of a smaller man growing from the small of his back.  I know of certain unscrupulous taxidermy colleagues of mine who have attempted to pass off such amalgams as genuine natural oddities of nature.  One in particular comes to mind…supposedly a cross between a deer and a rabbit…a jackalope I think they called it.  Still, this smacks of the real thing.  What sort of horrible experiments went on here?”“Look at this!”  Dex shouted from across the room.  He was looking at the assortment of tools, but the one he held in his hand looked very different from the rest.  It was a silver and gold seven-pointed star, one surface studded with nodules and blades, and the other featuring a thin, curved handle.  “I think I found our missing key!”_________________________________________________The time was now.  Malfeshnekor scarcely dared believe it.  Almost fifteen-thousand years.  That was how long he’d waited, trapped since he was captured by Karzoug’s minions, then forgotten after the great Cataclysm.  Oh, he’d had hope before, to be sure.  The cultists of Lamashtu had seemed very promising, indeed, but that damnable hellcat had slaughtered them all before he could guide them too him.  Then came the goblins.  Fragile and stupid creatures by nature, he’d drawn them to this place, but they were unable to find the sealed entrance.  He’d begun to despair again, but then his mistress had sent him a vision…a sign.  Another of the chosen was coming for him, or rather had been coming.  None of the voices he now heard outside his prison belonged to Nualia.  That probably meant she had failed and was dead.  And yet her killers had succeeded where she had not.  Malfeshnekor would still be free.  If he had to devour a few souls before realizing that freedom, well…it was amazing how much one’s hunger could fester after nearly fifteen-thousand years…___________________________________________________The key fit seamlessly into the lock and Dexter stepped back as the doors swung silently open, revealing a room lit by a large pit of flickering fire that filled the chamber with a strange, humid heat and the smell of burning hair.  In two corners of the room, wooden risers each held several dozen golden candles that burned without melting, while the far wall bore an immense carving of a seven-pointed star.“Is anyone else starting to detect a theme here?”  Wesh commented, but a moment later, the wizard’s head snapped back and blood flew from his mouth and nose as several deep slashes appeared from nowhere down the left side of his face.  “What the…?”  Dexter began, but his exclamation died on his lips as he saw what stood in the chamber, where before there had been nothing.  The creature was big, well over eight-feet tall as it reared on its lupine back legs.  The rest of its body bore more than a passing resemblance to a wolf as well, save for its face, which had a distinctly goblinoid cast to it.  Black fur rippled across it, and when it snarled, its lower jaw seemed to stretch farther than should have been physically possible.  As it stalked forward, it seemed to flicker rapidly in and out of view.“What is it?”  Dex shouted to no one in particular as he fumbled for his rapier.  Skud didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he stepped into the room to meet the creature.  With incredible speed, the beast brought one paw around in a swooping arc, raking it across the half-orc’s breastplate and tearing through it as if it were rice paper.  Skud grunted as he was driven back.“Watch out!”  Dex warned as his large friend bowled into him, knocking his sword from his hand.  It skittered several yards across the floor, but it might as well have been a mile away.  The fiend stepped forward, placing itself between the rogue and his weapon.“A barghest!”  Luther hissed.  “I should have known!  ‘Goblin-wolf’ indeed!  It is Abyss-spawned, and it feeds off the souls of the living!”Adso nodded brusquely.  He had heard of such creatures during his studies, and he knew that they were highly impervious to mortal weapons.  Closing his eyes, he focused his ki, gathering it to him like a physical force.  A silver nimbus formed around his clenched fists, and when he opened his eyes again, his hands flared like lightning.  Silently, he moved, leopard-quick to close the distance with the barghest.  He ducked beneath its swinging arms and struck, focusing all of his ki into the one-inch span of his knuckles.  When his flesh struck the fiend’s, bright light flared again, and the beast howled as its skin was scorched black by the monk’s touch.  Malfeshnekor hesitated for the briefest of moments, taken aback that one of the soft creatures had actually managed to cause him pain.  Then, savagely, he struck back, sinking his teeth into Adso’s shoulder and shaking him like a rag-doll.  “It’s blinking,” Wesh said.“What?”  Rico asked.“The barghest.  It’s blinking,” the mage repeated.  “It’s an enchantment, one which shunts the recipient constantly between the Ethereal plane and our own.  Bottom line…it’ll make it damn hard to land a blow…unless you know what I do.”“What’s that?” the druid asked.“Force magic transcends the Ethereal boundary,” Wesh smiled evilly.  Then, calling his magic to his lips, he unleashed a barrage of azure bolts at the barghest, and each one struck unerringly true.  Malfeshnekor hissed and yowled, pawing frantically at the spots where the missiles had seared him.  He locked his baleful eyes on the still-bloodied face of Wesh, and he began working his own spell, intending to subvert the human’s mind to his own indomitable will.  At the last second, however, the half-orc he’d first struck dashed inside his defenses and sank his blade deep into the barghest’s side.  Though Malfeshnekor’s dense hide shed the worst of the blow, the terrible gash was still such that the pain drove his spell from his mind.  Snarling viciously, he rounded on Skud, but then saw Dexter standing behind the barbarian, a gleaming, silver dagger in his upraised hand.  Shoving the half-orc aside like a small child, the barghest lunged at Dex, snapping his jaws closed on the rogue’s wrist and crushing it like a twig.  Dexter’s dagger fell from his nerveless grasp.Malfeshnekor spun like a snake back to Skud, and in rapid succession, the fiend savagely bit and clawed at the half-orc, driving Skud to his knees.  Unhinging his lower jaw like a python, the barghest leaned over the barbarian.  Suddenly, he screamed as the accursed silver dagger flew through the air and impaled the roof of his mouth.  Bloodied, and with his right arm hanging loosely at his side, Dexter smiled grimly and waved with his left hand.  Malfeshnekor clawed at the burning metal in his mouth, but then another volley of arcane missiles struck him about the head.  Reeling, he stumbled back, and as he struggled to regain his balance, Adso leaped straight up, landing a flying side-kick to the fiend’s temple.  The bone beneath imploded like an egg shell, and Malfeshnekor, chosen of Lamashtu, at last gained his freedom from his earthly imprisonment.__________________________________________________Thistletop was a tomb.  Nothing living remained.  The Sandpoint deputies stood on the far side of the repaired rope bridge, staring back at the fortress.  Orik Vancaskerkin and the lone goblin they’d taken captive sat bound astride Shadowmist, both looking very sullen.  Luther had taken the liberty of freeing the goblin children before the company departed, and the vicious infants had promptly scurried for the front doors, across the bridge, and disappeared into the briar patch.  As Rico had said, they faced better odds alone in the wild than they ever would have with their parents.  The companions felt satisfied by the work they’d done, but troubled as well.  Nualia and her minions had been neutralized, hopefully averting any further immediate threat for Sandpoint, but many questions still remained.  What was the significance of the Sihedron rune?  Where had Malfeshnekor come from and what role had he truly played in the events?  What of the mysterious Skinsaw Men Nualia had sought aid from in Magnimar?  Ultimately, these questions were, for the moment, unanswerable and perhaps always would be.  One-by-one, the seven turned away from Thistletop and back towards home…_____________________________________________________Many curious onlookers gathered as the company rode back into town early the next morning.  Many more joined them as word spread that the heroes had returned and had brought captives with them.  By the time they reached the garrison, Mayor Deverin herself was waiting for them, as well as Sheriff Hemlock.“Boys,” the sheriff nodded, a look of pride on his face.  “I see you brought guests.”Then, his eyes fell upon Randall, a blindfold still wrapped around the ex-soldier’s damaged eyes.  Hemlock misunderstood.“Him??” he said, his voice becoming louder.  “He was involved in this to??  Why am I not surprised?”Randall turned towards the sound of Hemlock’s voice, his mouth opening to snap back a retort.“It’s not what you think,” Wesh quickly interrupted.  “He’s with us.”Hemlock looked dubious.“It’s true.  He came to me and offered his service.  I admit, I was skeptical to at first, given his…undistinguished military career.”“Hmph!”  Hemlock snorted.  “If you can call it that.”“Nevertheless, he gave an excellent accounting of himself,” Wesh continued.  “He suffered a grievous injury at the hands of the goblins, and it cost him his eyesight.”Hemlock’s expression softened subtly.  As a soldier, he understood full well the consequences of such an injury on a fighting man.“Then we shall see what can be done about having it restored,” Mayor Deverin said, stepping forward.  “If I’m not mistaken, Wesh, your old mentor, Madame Mvashti has experience with such matters.  We owe all of you much, more than can ever be repaid.  For now, however, you will rest, recuperate, and when you’ve done so, you will tells us all of your adventures.”________________________________________________In the days that followed, the exploits of the so-called Sandpoint Seven spread rapidly through the town, and once again, they were hailed as heroes and saviors.  The townsfolk were shocked and appalled that two of their own, Nualia and Tsuto, were responsible for such tragedy and terror, yet many were also ashamed at the possible role their own treatment of Father Tobyn’s adopted daughter may have played in the final analysis.  Hemlock and Mayor Deverin were relieved to know that the rumored goblin attack seemed unlikely without Nualia’s leadership, even more so since the sheriff had only managed to convince the rulers of Magnimar to provide him with a dozen soldiers, most of those green.  All seven of the company were invited, and strongly encouraged to stay on as permanent deputies.  Hemlock even pinned Randall’s badge on his chest himself.  The big soldier, his brown eyes gleaming brightly once more thanks to Madame Mvashti’s ministrations, gripped his commander’s hand in gratitude, and the sheriff nodded stoically in approval.  Within a few days of the company’s return, trials were held for both Orik and Mongo, the captive goblin.  They were perfunctory events, but Orik was shown mercy for both his remorse at his actions, as well as his lack of actual participation in the raid.  He was sentenced to two years of hard labor, and accepted it without comment.  Mongo was not so fortunate, and though Luther pleaded for leniency, the goblin was sentenced to death by hanging, which was carried out immediately.In time though, the furor of the recent events wore down, and life in Sandpoint began gradually to return to normal.  There wasn’t actually much deputy work to be done by the seven friends, so each of them turned to their own endeavors.  Dexter and Skud, in between marathon sessions of free drinks at the Rusty Dragon, hired on with the occasional caravan bound for Magnimar, only to return a week later to resume their ‘official’ duties.  Wesh reopened his shop, having brought back several interesting specimens from Thistletop that drew great interests from passersby when they saw the unique displays in his window.  Rico left town shortly after the group returned from Thistletop, saying that he needed to contact Shalelu and bring her up to date, but promising to return every fortnight or so to check in.  As for Luther and Adso, the priest sent word to his superiors at Windsong Abbey, outlining everything that had transpired, and requesting leave to continue his ministry in Sandpoint as well as asking advice on any of the larger issues uncovered at Thistletop.  For the former, his request was granted, and Adso was instructed to remain with him as his guardian .  As for the latter, the high priests did not make much of Luther’s concerns.  They suggested that there were probably any number of obscure cults with ties to ancient Thassilonian mythology, and though Nualia’s had been dangerous, it probably was only an isolated occurrence.  Luther accepted their response, but it did little to ease his mind.  He filled his days with assisting Father Zantus and Hannah Velerin.  He and his companions had come across quite a bit of wealth on their journey to Thistletop, and while Luther’s vows prohibited him from keeping any of the money, they did not keep him from making an anonymous purchase of a small house, which he signed over into Hannah’s name so that she might expand her services to the poor and needy.___________________________________________________“So what have you decided?”  Wesh asked.  He was seated in a secluded corner booth of the Rusty Dragon, comfortably close to the inn’s proprietress, Ameiko Kaijitsu.  The wizard had become quite infatuated with the young woman since his return, and she, in turn, welcomed his support in her recent ordeals…the death of her father and brother, the realization of several dark secrets long hidden by her family, and the aftermath of the slaughter at her father’s glassworks.  “I’m putting the glassworks up for sale,” she said as she stared down into her tankard.  “I’m letting Jasper Korvaski over at the Mercantile League handle the details.  The three other noble families will all contribute equally to the sale, and therefore no one family will have an upper hand in the town’s industry.”“A wise decision,” Wesh nodded, patting her hand.  “I’ve also set up several trusts for the families of the workers,” she said.  “Money alone can never give them back their loved ones, but perhaps it can ease their hardships.”“No one blames you,” Wesh said softly.  “Tsuto was my brother,” Ameiko sighed.  “Blood cries to blood, or at least many of the locals believe so.  Already I’ve noticed a drop off in business at the inn.  It may be time for me to go away again.”“Don’t say that,” Wesh shook his head.  “Not that I sought it, but my word seems to have some pull around here these days.  This will pass, you’ll see, and with a ‘prominent’ citizen like myself as one of your star patrons,” he grinned broadly, “it will only be a matter of time before your establishment becomes THE place to see and be seen.”Ameiko smiled slightly and leaned her head on his shoulder.“Ahem, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”Wesh looked up and saw Sheriff Hemlock standing nearby, a chagrined expression on his face.The wizard sighed.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t be if it wasn’t important.  What can I do for you sheriff?”“I need to speak with you…privately,” the big man replied grimly.  “Sorry, Ameiko.”“No problem, Belor,” the inn keeper as she slid out of the booth, kissing Wesh on the cheek before she left.“What’s this about?”  Wesh asked.“Not here,” Hemlock replied in a low voice.  “I’d like you to gather the others and come to the garrison.  Are they all around?”“Dex and Skud just came in yesterday,” Wesh nodded, “and I saw Rico riding in just this morning.  His saddlebags were loaded, and I heard the distinct sound of clinking bottles.  I think he brought in another supply from his little distillery.”Hemlock managed a half smile.  “Good things it’s only herbals and such that he’s dealing in, otherwise I might have to lock him up.”“I’ll round them all up and meet you within the hour,” Wesh said.__________________________________________________The seven deputies sat in Hemlock’s office, the first time they’d all been together in several weeks.  The sheriff paced restlessly before leaning heavily against his desk.“First, let me thank you again or all you’ve done for Sandpoint,” he began.  “It’s fortunate that you’ve proven yourselves so capable, because we’ve got a problem that I think you can help us with…a problem that I wish I didn’t have to involve anyone with, but one that needs dealing with now before the situation gets worse.”    “Put simply, we have a murderer in our midst…one who, I fear, has only begun his work.  Some of you doubtless remember the Late Unpleasantness and how this town nearly tore itself apart in fear as Chopper’s slayings went on unanswered.  I’m afraid we might have something similar brewing now.”    “Last night, the murderer struck at the sawmill.  There are two victims, and they’re…they’re in pretty gruesome shape.  The bodies were discovered by one of the mill workers, a man named Ibor Thorn, and by the time my men and I arrived on the scene, a crowd of curious gawkers had already sprung up.  I’ve got my men stationed there now, keeping the mill locked down, but the thing that bothers me isn’t the fact that we have two dead bodies inside.  It’s that this is actually the second set of murders we’ve had in the last few days.”    “I come to you for help in this matter…my men are good, but they are also green.  They were barely able to handle themselves against the goblins, and what we’re facing now is an evil far worse than goblins.  I need the help, but I’m afraid you’ll need the help too.  You see, it seems that this particular murderer knows one of you as well.”At that point, Hemlock removed a piece of blood-stained parchment from his desk.“This was found pinned to the sleeve of one of the victims.”He passed the parchment to Skud.  The half-orc took it, and then stared blankly at the writing there.“Ahem, if I may?”  Dexter said, clearing his throat as he took the paper from his friend’s hand.  Skud’s illiteracy was a sore point with the half-orc, and Dex wanted to spare him any embarrassment.  “It’s got your name on the outside, Skud,” he said, and then he unfolded the parchment.“‘I do as you command, master!’ is all it says, and it’s signed, ‘Your Lordship.’ What’s this supposed to mean?”“I’m not sure,” Hemlock replied, “but don’t worry, I believe the note was left to purposely cast suspicion on Skud.  He’s not a suspect in any way, but if word of this got out, I’m worried that the reaction of the townsfolk might not be as understanding.  For this reason, and because I don’t’ want to start a general panic, I would like to keep the news of the murders as quiet as possible.”“Who are the victims?”  Luther asked quietly.Hemlock dropped his gaze.  “Banny Harker,” he said.“Harker?”  Wesh asked.  “He’s one of the mill workers, right?”“Yes,” Hemlock nodded, “and so is Ibor Thorn.  I’ve got him in custody downstairs in case you want to question him, thought I don’t suspect him.”“Who was the other?”  Luther pushed.“Katrine Vinder,” Hemlock said quietly.  Luther was stunned.  Katrine was the sister of Shayliss Vinder, the young woman who had first tried to seduce the priest, and then later slandered him when he’d rebuffed her advances.“It seems that Katrine and Harker were having an affair,” Hemlock continued.  “The mill was apparently their rendezvous of choice.  You might be thinking that would make her father, Ven, an obvious suspect, since everyone in town is well aware of how protective he is of his daughters, but when I broke the news to him, he was so distraught that he flew into a rage.  I took him into custody as well, but more for his own safety than anything else.  You may question him as well if you like.”“You said this was the second set of murders,” Wesh said.  “What about the first?”“Ah yes,” Hemlock sighed heavily again.  “Two days ago, a patrol along the Lost Coast Road was assaulted by a deranged man near an abandoned barn south of town, along the banks of Cougar Creek.  He was obviously sick and insane, his flesh fevered, eyes wild, mouth frothing, and his clothes were caked with blood.  The guards subdued him, but when they checked inside the barn, they found the mutilated bodies of three men.  Although they were too disfigured to identify, one of them carried this piece of parchment.”Hemlock passed another folded note to Dex.“ ‘Messrs. Mortwell, Hask and Tabe’,” Dex read.  “ ‘A deal has come about that I need capital in.  It involves property and gold, and though I am not at liberty to tell you the exact details, it will make us all rich.  Come to Bradley’s Barn on Cougar Creek tonight.  We can meet there to discuss our futures.’  It’s signed, ‘Your Lordship.’”“Again with the ‘Lordship,’” Wesh said.  “Who were these men?”“Tarch Mortwell, Lener Hask, and Gedwin Tabe,” Hemlock replied.  “Con men and swindlers that I’ve had run-ins with in the past.  Last time I hauled them in, I forbade them from operating their con games and barely legal operations within Sandpoint.  I must admit, I wasn’t particularly surprised to find them murdered.  It was only a matter of time before they tried to swindle someone worse than them, but in light of last night’s murders, and the fact that all three of the men had the same symbol carved into their chests as Harker, convinces me that there’s something worse than revenge going on.”“Symbol?”  Luther asked quietly, his blood going cold.“You’ll see it,” Hemlock answered, “when you go to the mill.  You can also examine the bodies of the first three.  I’ve got them in a cool room down in the basement.  As for the man who attacked the guards, he’s been identified as Grasyt Sevilla, a local Varisian thug.  I turned him over to Erin Habe, the caretaker of the Saintly Haven of Respite.  So that’s it then, gentlemen.  That’s all I can tell you.  I suggest, if you’re willing, you begin your investigation.”________________________________________________________Ibor Thorn was still in a state of shock when Luther approached him in his holding cell, both sullen and traumatized.“I already told the sheriff everything,” he muttered.  “I don’t know nothin’ else.”“I understand,” the priest said kindly.  “I just want to make sure there is nothing we’re overlooking.  We need to do everything we can to prevent more murders.”Thorn hesitated, his eyes shifting nervously.  When he spoke again, his voice was uncertain.“Well…ah Hades, what harm can it do to tell ya now?  Banny’d been cookin’ the books for awhile now.  I never wanted any part of it, mind ya, but Banny might’ve stashed away quite a little nest egg by his skimmin’ over the years.  The Scarnettis, they own the mill ya know, they got a reputation for bein’ pretty ruthless.  Word on the street’s that they had several competin’ mills in the area burned down.  I wouldn’t put it past’em to hire somebody to kill poor Banny if they found out what he’d been doin’.  Poor Banny…”Katrine’s father, Ven, was far less forthcoming.  Such was his rage and grief that he was barely coherent.  Though Luther tried for some time to get through to the man, in the end he was forced to give up, convinced that the merchant was just what he appeared…a heartbroken father. _____________________________________________________When the deputies arrived at the lumber mill, a sizeable crowd was gathered outside, and groups of nervous-looking town guards stood at the entrances.  A murmur ran through the onlookers as they saw the arrival of the Sandpoint Seven.  Their suspicions that something important was afoot was only confirmed by the presence of the local heroes.  The guards stepped aside at Hemlock’s word, and the company stepped into the dim interior of the lumber mill.  The mill was a well-built wooden structure with very thick walls.  The roof was made of wooden shingles, and the doors were simple timber, and all usually were kept unlocked, according to Hemlock.  The machinery had been disengaged, and the silence inside the usually noisy structure was eerie.  The floor of the main room was coated with sawdust, and the first thing that was readily apparent was that a desperate struggle had recently taken place there.  The dust was churned with footprints, and stained with several large splashes of blood.  Rico knelt down and examined the prints more closely.“Boots, slippers…and bare feet,” the druid noted, pointing out the different sets of prints.  Then he bent even closer to the bare prints and sniffed.  “Ugh!  Smells like rotten meat!”In fact, the lingering scent of decay filled the entire interior of the mill, almost as if a small animal had died somewhere in the room and its remains had been allowed to ripen.“Over here,” Hemlock called from where he stood beside the log splitter.  “Brace yourselves.”A pale-faced, obviously upset guard stood at attention nearby.  When the deputies approached, they got their first look at what was left of Katrine Vinder.  It was instantly apparent how she’d died…she been pushed head-first into the splitter, and now her mangled, ruined remains lay on the floor amid heaps of bloodstained firewood.  Luther’s face looked stricken, while Wesh’s expression showed revulsion and nausea.  Dexter turned away and coughed into his hand, while Rico just shook his head.  Skud and Randall remained stoic, though both of their eyes narrowed.  They were warriors, and had seen death in many forms, but the senseless brutality of what had occurred only a few short hours before still unnerved them.  Adso remained calm and self-possessed, but a look of deep sadness passed briefly across the monk’s face, and he could only wonder about the capacity for man’s inhumanity towards his own kind.“We found this nearby,” Hemlock said.  A handaxe was embedded in the floor near the splitter, as if it had been dropped there.  The handle was covered with bloody finger marks.  Randall reached down and pulled it from the planks.“Looks like bits of flesh and bone on the blade,” he said, then he sniffed and his nose wrinkled.“Let me see it,” Luther said, and Randall passed him the weapon.  Though his face contorted in disgust, the young priest leaned in close to the blade.“This corruption is beyond that which a dead body can normally produce,” he said.  “This was very likely used against some sort of corporeal undead creature.”For a moment, his companions and Hemlock looked shocked at the implication, then Randall chuckled slightly. “Looks like our little lady there didn’t go down without a fight.”Banny Harker’s body had been horribly desecrated.  The poor man had been affixed to the wall by several hooks normally used to hang machinery.  He had been mutilated, his face carved away and his lower jaw missing entirely.  In addition, there were several small gashes visible in many places, that almost seemed to have been made by a claw…a five-fingered human-hand-sized claw.  Last, and most disturbing of all, however, was the strange rune that had been carved into his bare chest.  There was no doubt at all as to what the seven-pointed figure represented…the Sihedron Rune…</blockquote>

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