Beren covered his nose from the smoke of the half-burning settlement, dark brown eyes full of a solemn air as he gazed upon the dead. The Warrior Monk slipped the top of his shirt over his mouth, and continued to walk forward through the debris. He knew they should not linger. The smell of bodies would drift in the woodlands, and the nameless creatures of the Southland would come to feed when they caught wind of it. 

Argon seemed to be one of those creatures. He stuck closely to Alice, the hulking humanoid Lizard sniffing the air with his tongue. His eyes would often linger on rotting bodies, and he would step towards them, only to have Beren give him a shake of the head. Argon grumbled, but kept his sharp teeth off the bodies. 

The yelp of the dog drew Beren's attention, and he sped over to the noise. Only, as he skidded into the alleyway, Ursaren was already leaving it, and the Dog's entrails were spilled along the side of the street. He didn't even seem to care for the newcomer at first as he approached the old man. The muscled Monk grabbed Ursaren by the shoulder and looked him in the eye when he tugged his body to face him. "If you're going to mercy kill someone, be more thorough." Beren said, his voice powerful and forthright. He obviously cared quite a bit about the dog. 

It looked like the people had been butchered by curved blades, and blades that were notched. Suggesting a barbarous people. Perhaps human barbarians, perhaps Gnolls, or Orcs. Or perhaps beings trying to appear in such a fashion. 
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