Tyr's Fork Terror

[Melaidus]

The man hunched over the body of the Hand of Mundus, his undead servants standing in silent vigil. Drawing a jagged blade from his belt the man set about his task carving obscene symbols and rites upon the corpses body. Intent upon his task the man did not notice the two Vampires making their way away from him upon the road. Intent upon his work he finished by carving the symbol of Myrkul upon his cheek for all to see a warning to others.

He stood satisfied with his work. Motioning to the Undead he set them to task. "Hang him from the statue" Lumbering forward they moved to obey their disjunctive movements grotesque in the moonlight. Grabbing the body they half carried have dragged it to the large statue at Tyr's Fork. "Hold him up" The man intoned, and his dead companions moved to obey. Removing large Metal spikes from a pouch the man set about hammering. The sound of hammer strokes filled the night air for but a moment. Upon completion the man walked off into the night leaving the body of the Hand of Mundus splayed across the statue a warning to those who would come after.

[Moratar]

Lurking in the dark, eyes which could see but not be seen observed quietly. Three men and a body, along with an army that would otherwise have remained buried, stood there exchanging words that could not be heard. A stench of death filled the air, emanating oddly enough from the unlikely travellers. As they left the scene, there was nothing but silence. A careful ear could listen to the whisper of an arrow, but none would see through the veil of the shadows.

Moments had passed, and only rope and blood were left on the grass...

[Chiangtao]

A gray orc watched the entire event from a careful distance. He made no effort to hide himself. At this distance, he and his pack could easily outrun the marauders.

These were foul men - the stench of sin filled the air. They made no effort to hide their tracks. They were powerful but arrogant. Vurk stashed that bit of insight away for later use.

As they hung the robed mage from the statue, old instincts began to boil his blood. "What are in those pockets?," he thought.

He carefully approached the scene after the marauders had left. He sniffed the air, noting their foulness was thinning. It was safe now, and he crept closer.

He stopped about twenty feet from the gruesome corpse. The dead man had been defaced. Symbols had been carved on the man's face. He didn't recognize them, but he made careful note. These were symbols of rites and gods. Vurk knew better than to disturb what was given to the gods.

The greed faded from his heart, replaced by the cold survival instincts he had learned. He left the scene in-tact and went about his business.

**************

Padding back quickly to the Grove, Vurk visits the Silent One at the pool. He crouches cautiously before the lizardman and traces the symbols he saw in the dirt. He takes a nervous step back as though presenting some unwanted gift to a king.