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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jairami" data-source="post: 108009" data-attributes="member: 1148">As the rain faded to a steady mist, Frederick and Byron came to the conclusion that Gaedri was probably not of his own mind and his actions were motivated most likely by a darker power.  Given that guesswork they decided that the least they could do was give him a proper burial.  Collin was capable of summoning dependable horses from the ether, but maintained that he would not be able to keep two horses with them at all times.  Somehow, Frederick's shield got elected as the digging instrument.  In the pre-dawn murk, they slogged mud just inside the outer pillars of the broken temple, beyond the blasted flagstones.Khuuld had apparently slipped away unseen to think or hunt or some such, but given the grisly task Collin had that morning of attempting to wrap poor Sara in his bedroll, and Tylette's wracked nerves that morning from her disturbing nightmares, no one gave it much thought.Collin and Tylette did their best to secure Sara's body on the horse he summoned, but regardless of their efforts she still ended up with half of her balancing the other half on either side of the horse in two horrifying lumps.  Unshed tears shined in both Collin and Tylette's eyes as they tried not to notice.Khuuld came back, finding Byron and Frederick muddy and steaming in the cold misty morning, his breath condensing in front of him.  Both went wide-eyed and rigid at the sight of the black irises of his eyes and the jet black color of his hair.  Hardly noticing their reaction he asked if everyone was ready to set forth.Not knowing what else to do, they nodded their heads and walked out, armed and armored into the surrounding woods.  The trees were black with ravens, but where there had been hundreds, there were now far too many count.  They seemed limitless, there had to be thousands of them.  With expressions varying from wild-eyed fear to guilty resignation to grim preparation, they marched straight into the midst of the black host.And the raven's parted before them as a great black sheet rent asunder.Or so it seemed.  Pausing for a second, not knowing whether to feel relieved or even more terrified, a tacit agreement was made by silently looking around and receiving nods that it was best not to test their fortune and to proceed with all speed.  But as they started forth, the ravens rushed in to fill in behind them.  The agitated swarm formed a cacaphony of sound with wings flapping in every direction as they shot from branch to branch following the group but never coming closer than ten feet to them.For hours the group walked like this through the thinly wooded area, surrounded by thousands of evershifting, cawing ravens.  White knuckles gripped weapons as nerves frayed and silence gripped the party by the throat amidst the din.  Not a word of comfort was to be had among the tight lipped, tight eyed party.By chance at one point, Khuuld paused to consider one of the larger ravens who stood out from the milling mass as another red-eyed specimen.  While the murderous legions of ravens sped from branch to branch, never sitting for long, seeming to mask their numbers in the milling chaos, the red-eyed ravens never seemed to move.  They sat calmly in the hurricane, watching with tiny red eyes every move the party made.Unnerving didn't begin to describe it.  And then the ravens stopped receding.  Frederick walked to almost within arm's reach of the raven tempest, when he stopped, turned and saw Khuuld standing behind the party a ways, looking ponderously into the black cloud.  Then the blood drained from his face as he watched a single raven swoop down towards Khuuld and perch easily on his outstreched arm.That black-eyed face turned to regard Frederick and he was sure that he had seen his last day.Unbeknownst to the other members of the party, Khuuld had gone off that morning hunting a voice he had heard.  He searched every inch of the temple he could find but never did the voice get any louder or any softer.  And then it began speaking as if to him.It was mostly non-sensical at first, wandering off into babbling drivel as often as not, but the occasional perceptive statement would shock Khuuld into standing there, wondering.  The voice was inside his head.What had stopped Khuuld was a giggling cackle of, "Call to my pretties...  You're mine, you're mine, you're mine, just as they..."</blockquote>

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