*Friar Vandrik, after penning his letter to The Grand Master in Britain; imploring aid, picked up a recent report.*
"What word doth these Mercenary gather? Hrmm let see here. They doth report of 'monks'. No word hath reached me of any missionary work to be done here. Certainly some notice would have come before them. . ."
*He read over the reports, mostly notes and wild ramblings of the injured. A few hospital records; those proved most useful. He read the details of the injuries and whom they concerned.*
"So this female Keres and the elfling hath both been in the hands of these 'monks'. Yet they survive where others do not. Tis certain guardian worshipers hath done harm to them. I dare wonder what price they paid for their miserable and worthless lives. Their very souls I do not doubt. What deeds mights they commit in the name of the abomination? Higher Being's Lights, they must be questioned, and if need be. . . Destroyed."
*The Friar soon stood and hefting his crossbow over his shoulder set off into the wood in search of this alter that his reports spoke of. It was not long before he came upon a ruins, dark and grimy. They would appear unused for all but the aware observer. That grime was char, and that mould was old blood. The smell. . . the smell was death, not some animal den and no dwelling of living man. The crusades had tough him the smell of death, and they had removed all fear of mortal men. Only Higher Being could permanently harm him now, not even a liche could have his soul, for it was Higher Being's. Aumen. He lifted his crossbow and slowly crept up to a corner of the ruins. The smell was stronger now. His heart quickened slightly as he took a calming breath. A whispered prayer and around the corner he swung, his weapon leading.
Nothing. No one, and no thing was there. The signs were obvious. The alter was blood smeared and charred of fire. Scraps of torn clothes lay in the corners, the corpses of dead animals, victims of some fell ritual no doubt, also littered the ground. The place had an eerie presence, one which chilled him to his bones and he dared not go any closer to the alter.*
"Per Deus lux lucis , vestri fatum est nox noctis."
*He prayed the Grand Master would send help soon. He and these mercenary would not be equipped enough to handle this foe.*
Friar Vandrik Inspects the Altar.
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