Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98
The death had been a strange one, and swift. But while he found it tempting to blame himself, the inquisitor also knew that here was a man whom he had offered a horse and sent back out onto the road, whom he had kept to the rear, and who was now struck by a creature he had not been able to stop with the best of his efforts. There was nothing he could to to help him recover from his injuries, nor did he have time to offer final comfort. No, this had not been a mistake of his, though it was like to relate to him as a sign of the gods nevertheless.
Taking his eyes from the body, he pounded the last of the animation from the mained horror that the lethal construct would pose no more threat. He turned back to those remaining.
"We will bring him to the feasthall where he will find better company in death. Perhaps if we are fortunate, we may ask the good priestess what will become of him once this evil is undone.
"Sir Manessah, having now witnessed the current might of this corrupted gem, what have you to tell us of that which lies beyond the fallen horrors?"
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