As Jokad runs ahead into the room at the end of the corridor, Jakardos walks calmly up to the corpse of Mammy, threads an arrow, and from two foot above her corpse sends the arrow through her eye and out the back of her skull. He doesn't speak.
Vale grunts. Jakardos turns towards him, as if awakening from his personal thoughts.
"We can deal with Kaven later ... the house needs cleared first"
Vale nods.
----
Jokad bursts into an empty room.
The cloying stink of this room is nearly overwhelming. Buckets of filth are stacked against the walls, fat ravenous flies lazily circling their rims. The room itself is dominated by an immense bed, its ratty sheets stained beyond hope. A huge easel sits next to the bed with a palette of various shades of brown and red paint. The source of these morbid pigments— several crushed organs and ragged stumps of flesh—sit in receptacles next to the easel. A set of human-hair brushes jut from a broken skull by the easel, while a comb made from a human mandible sits on a small oak bedside table nearby, its teeth clotted with thick strands of greasy black hair. Three huge open coffins sit empty against the far wall.
The bed dominates the room. The evident slump in the the middle from the weight of Mammy, and the horrible array of stains on the mattress, cause Jokad's face to twist in distaste.
The room holds no threats, however, just perversions and remnants of the horrors these being inflicted on the local humans and the black arrows who did not survive their imprisonment.
