Vargath Hubrecht
Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter
AC: 19 HP: 49/49
PP: 13 PIv: 12 PIs: 10
Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), -1 INT
Concentrating: --

When Vargath swings his way out of the stagecoach to observe the carnage that has been wrought, his first thought is a rather disturbing one - "What a waste of good food." It's the beast, gnawing at him - and at his belly. These were rot and wouldn't satisfy anymore. If nothing else it seemed unlikely that this massacre was done for sustenance - though the lack of a liver speaks to either a particularly picky palette or perhaps a ritual significance. They were sometimes used in sacrifice both for good health and to cause ill, depending on the intentions of the ritualmaker. Mal and Soreshu's voiced observations match his own, and so he doesn't feel the need to add anything more to the deductions.

"At a guess from the rot they've been dead a few days at least, maybe more? Unless the attacker has a habit of lurking at the scene of the crime, I expect they'll be long gone." His eyes glance over to Selissa, "But perhaps they could be tracked to their lair or abode if they have one, and if we want to spend time on this. I'm not against helping, but we should all remember we have other things that also require our attention. Time spent here is time not spent in Harumburg." There was no right answer to this situation. It was clearly a cursed attack, some magical monster if the expressions and scratches around the eyes were anything to go by. They should help. Yet, the overarching problem remained, and time would not wait for them.