Skara Braens

Part 4

Part 3 Vote Tally

Option A: 0
Option B: 0
Option C: 4

Bunch of scared-y cats!  Onward!

You sink lower as the enormous hulking metal carriage continues to scan the area.  One of the men walks forward, picking his way through the bodies, looking for something.  You watch as he turns bodies over, glancing briefly at them and then moving onto the next dead body.

One by one, all but two of the strangely masked men make their way down to the corpses.  Most of them collect something from around the necks of the dead, and one simply walks, his legs jerking as if he was stunned.  He nearly runs into someone else after tripping over a corpse, and is caught and steadied.  You still cannot hear anything they're saying, but they nod at one another, and the man who tripped is given an affectionate pat on his shoulder.

The first of the strangely clad men reaches the wooden path, not far from where you hide now.  You watch him as he scans the horizon, his hands on his hips.  Another man arrives at his side and claps him on the shoulder.

"Not here?" the second man asks.  The words are muffled by the mask, but you pay close attention, and so can hear them well enough.

"Not here," the other confirms.

"That's good, right?  It means there's still hope."

"Yeah." The first man does not sound convinced.  He shakes his head.

"Chin up.  We'll find them."

The first man turns back to the field of corpses, muffling his voice further.  "Not like this, I hope."

Another man joins the two.  "Well, so much for Legion Adiutrix," he says, sounding bored.  "I count one hundred and twenty dead."

"Leaving just forty survivors," the first man says.  "If any at all."

"We'll find them," the second insists.

The third turns to scan the horizon and you press yourself yet lower on the ground.  "Chances are not great," he says, earning an irritated shove from the second man.

"What?" the third demands.  When the second man indicates their companion with his head, the third adds, "But there is a chance.  Brigid's a clever girl and a good soldier.  No doubt she's figured a way through."

"No doubt," the first man intones, sounding very much like there was a great deal of doubt.

Something odd happens then.  All three men place their left hands on the left side of their heads about where their ears would be.  They fall silent and then the first says, "Very good.  We go that way, then."

Another silence, followed by the first saying to no one in particular, "Stack the bodies first."

"Let's get to work, then," the third man says.

With a sigh, the other two men follow him back into the field of bodies and they set to work, looting the bodies and then stacking them into piles.  You watch as they pour good amounts of a viscous liquid over the piles, with a line of  liquid joining them all.  The company of strange men retreat back up the hill, leaving a trail of liquid.

Intrigued, you watch as one of the soldiers strikes a box of some kind, igniting a stick.  He trows the stick and the liquid flares suddenly.  The fire follows the path of the liquid, igniting each pile of bodies.  On the hill, someone gives a signal, and the group, including the magic metal carriage and the metal arachnids turn and head south west.

Who can light such a fire?  Surely these men possess great magic.

You watch them go from the safety of your hiding place.  Only when they are well out of sight do you pull yourself up.  Your body aches from spending so long being tense, cramped and held without moving for fear of being seen.  Taking the time, you slowly stretch out your limbs, massaging the ache from them.

A movement catches your eye.  Turning your head, you freeze as you spy a flaming corpse sit up.  It slides from the pile of bodies upon which it lay and begins to walk, following the company of strange men.  It manages but three steps before it collapses, becoming nothing more than a flaming mass, unrecognisable as a person.

For a long moment, you stare at the corpse.  How had it moved?  Did they burn someone alive?  Something in your gut tells you that the person was most definitely dead.  Nothing about their movement indicated they felt any pain whatsoever, but how was that possible?  Corpses don't just get up and walk... do they?

Again you ask yourself what kind of hell you have woken up in.

You resume your stretching, though keep a careful eye on the corpses, in case any of them begin to move again.  When they do not, you stand fully upright.  Once again using the slightly higher mounds of dead grass as stepping stones, you jump back over to the wooden path.  The wood creaks beneath your feet, and the unsettling feeling from moments ago returns.

With the strange men gone, you are once again very aware that everything is too quiet.  There are no birds, no insects and, no signs of life anywhere.  A feeling of intense loneliness engulfs you.  You bite your lip and take good stock of your surrounds.

The wooden path stretches before you and behind you in a long, rotting line.  Thanks to the clearing and stacking of the bodies, there is a path headed south.  Granted, it's not much of one, consisting of nothing more than raised grass tufts that grant you relatively safe passage through the low-lying yellow mists that cling to the ground,  to the hillock on which stood the company of strange men not long before.

The sun is peaking, sending hot rays against your skin.  Sighing, you decide to say a small prayer before the burning bodies and then continue on your way.

Which way is that?

a) Continue the way you were going in the first place. The sooner you get out of here the better.
b) To the hillock to follow the strange man, but at a safe distance.

c) Back the way you came, and at a good clip, if you please.

Cast your votes, Adventurers!

Voting ends 16 June, 2016 at midnight local time (Ottawa, Canada).

Good luck!