Sieghard, Urgrim & Adelbert

Stripping off Udolf's coat with some difficulty - the dead man's arms were heavy and stiff as logs - revealed a mail shirt that had definitely seen better days. Sieghard wondered what the last time Udolf had removed it was. Probably never. Dead men didn't need to sleep, or, from the smell of the padding underneath, to wash.

Everywhere the rusting mail didn't protect, Udolf's body and arms had been hacked to ribbons by Sieghard's sword - far more punishment than anyone living could have sustained. There was no blood around the wounds, whatever remained in Udolf's body having long coagulated in its veins. A deep wound in his gut revealed no sign of entrails within - just clumps of damp, stinking sawdust that spilled out when they turned the body over.