[color=c4df9b][b]Ettamri Belarence[/b][/color][hr]

She wondered if it was bad or good that she did not feel nausea anymore when seeing scenes like this.

Blood, gore and death seemed to have become the norm. When she had left all that time ago from her home, and during her first arrival, this would have sickened her. But now, she felt nothing. Nothing at the sight of them, just another-

[color=c4df9b][i]"Feast for the eyes... maybe for you too."[/i][/color]

Ignoring the voice, Ettamri inhaled and went over the scene again. The wagon was a charred mess, and the cargo was flung everywhere with bits burnt off. The corpses were not burned or eaten, and nothing seemed to have been pillaged from it all, save for the horses. 

Then from what she understood of the scene, the wagon was first exploded, whether through a spell or some other sort of explosive she did not know, and the contents was flung out. Just before the explosion, or during the brief moment of confusion after, some of them were quickly taken out with a knife in their throats, before the others were swiftly overwhelmed. A planned ambush? She could not imagine it to be anything less than an ambush considering the lack of collateral from what seemed to be their mage pair. They could have been impaired for some reason, or had less destructive spells, but the cuts on the neck of some, seemed to indicate either a person of prodigious skills in the blade, or a swift moving assassin. 

Not animals, mindless undead, or bandits, but an organized force capable of overwhelming steel tagged soldiers. Seeing how far they were already towards the fort, and what she had fought there last time, these could be an orc attack.

Then again, it was all speculation from what she understands. It could just as well be a bandit attack that was scared away from their loot by something else. It would serve no purpose to reveal this to the others and potentially panicking them with what could be her wrong conclusions. 

[color=c4df9b]"Hmph. Unfortunate, maybe we should..."[/color]

[color=c4df9b][i]"...bury them? Bring back their possessions for their loved ones? Do you think they would do the same for you?"[/i][/color] The red child swung her feet nonchalantly on the burnt wagon, an infuriatingly smug expression on her face. [i][color=c4df9b]"You know they would have left you for dead, then run off with everything you have. [b]You, know, this.[/b]"[/color][/i]

She wanted to hit the child, break its bones, throw it over the mountain where it would bother her no longer, but it did not exist. It was but a figment of her own mind, her own demon, torturer, accursed reminder of her sin. But she cannot deny its words. It hit her like an arrow through her heart, a wrenching pain that came with a feeling of loneliness.

[color=c4df9b]"We should gather what we can use from them, and have the priest do their last rites lest they join the ranks of the undead."[/color]