[center][h2][color=82ca9d]Irian Sinewell[/color][/h2][/center][hr] In this desolate, barren rocky lands, the sight of dark brown soil was definitely worth a look at. No creatures, even faes or the dreaded Midnight Hunt were to cause the earth to be this disturbed. And it wasn't nice and easy either, so much of these were either intentionally upturned or something else big had caused this phenomena. Increasingly, the notion that regular bandits were behind these raids grew twisted. From the beginning, the wood elf could somewhat entertain the idea. After all, bandits could be just as organized as any professional assassin attacks if they were led well. However, this felt a little off to him. According to reports, they were also stealing the deceased as well as the living. He wouldn't discount unrelated freaks and crazies involved, but for his often alarmist and cautious mind, he had to be prepared that it wasn't what he or they wanted. The elf silently moved inbetween the jagged white rocks, each step simply eased into the earth softly, bow in hand, an arrow in another. While many of these rocks looked natural, shaped by the unforgiving river of time, there were some rocks with sharp edges that were clearly broken by force. [color=82ca9d][i]'More unnatural activities.'[/i][/color] Irian grazed the rock as he neared. It was beginning to feel a little bit unpleasant. A couple more steps forward and a rather disturbing sight came into view. A skull of some unfortunate souls atop a stick. From a distance, the elf could not really discern if the skull was real or not, and he did not even want to touch the possibility that the skull was just a disturbed creature robbed from its grave, or was someone tortured and beheaded on a stick. The thought of someone being put through that kind of atrocity, it disgusted him. Either way, he needed to head back to the Princess. He had seen enough. Their settlement would likely not be that far off from there.