Isilmewen’s tracking prowess led the troupe from the diminished tracks she had discovered earlier to fresher and more unsettling spoor soon enough. Over the years he’d spent in the Sylvari forests, Dak had learned that stumbling upon the carcass of a random creature was far from uncommon, but the state of the mangled and mutilated half-corpse of a deer they had discovered lying just off the trail flew in the face of that learning. This was no hunter’s lost quarry, nor had the creature died of natural causes or mere mishap; it was obvious that the poor thing had been torn asunder with great ferocity, and what remained was unscavenged, as if even the boldest or hungriest of carrion feeders had been wary of making a meal of the thing.

“I’m no ranger, arwenamin,” Kithiel frowned as the party examined the carcass, “but even I can see that’s no natural death. Something tore the poor creature apart.”

“We all know what that something was. I have seen it in action, myself,” Thanon interjected icily, the knuckles of the hand gripping his bow gone white with fury, “These are foul, murderous beasts that must be put down.”

“Indeed,” Dak muttered under his breath, leaning on his bata and flicking a glance at the pengron, “and your grasp of the obvious is impeccable, mellon. To be able to put them down, though – a task which I assure you is easier said than done – we will first need to find them.”

~~~

And so, on they went, soon discovering much fresher and observable tracks which Isilmewen attributed to not just one but multiple monstrosities. These marks inevitably brought them to the top of a rocky hill where, nestled into the ridge that ran along its summit, was a wide and reeking cave mouth. “Another gods-cursed brooding cave,” the Cid scowled as they approached, drawing his scarf over his mouth and nose against the stench, “just as I forestated. Sarigraamin…” The foreboding sense of déjà vu sent icy fingers chasing up his spine, but he managed to repress the shudder that threatened to accompany it, “… By Hurgee what I wouldn’t give to have been wrong.”

Rosariel pointed out the ring of sickly green mushrooms, their inner edges charred black, and a pall of sinister tension, nearly as heavy as the scent of death and decay here, fell over the companions. Surely, all of them (save, perhaps, their retainers from Hyanda Nost) were recalling their encounter with the corrupt cleric of Kithee and, with a sense of dread, were certain that the same ancient Syl had been here. It was a cold comfort to Dak, though, that the burnt faces of the fungi seemed to indicate that the old fart had already taken his leave. Sheilin smile on us all, he thought, and let that be true.

Beyond the ring was a scene from a charnel house. The ground outside and around the mouth of the cave was strewn with the detritus of the owlbears’ kills; bits of gnawed bone, ragged tatters of fur and hide, and scraps of putrefying meat. Worst among all this ghastly mess, though, was the crumpled corpse of a Sylvari child so young that the poor thing hadn’t yet reached Dak’s stature before its life was so brutally snatched away. The shudder of revulsion that had been threatening him since they first spied the cave laid claim to the little Cid, now, and he didn’t bother to fight it. Instead, with trembling fingers, he stripped a blanket from his bedroll and used it to cover the boy’s body. “Go home to Ma Meil, little one,” he whispered, “and rest easy in her arms.” This done, he got to his feet and padded just inside the mouth of the cave, eyes and ears keen to ferret out even the slightest sight or sound that would indicate something stirring inside.

Behind him, Thanon was raging. “Waara’thostea!” the pengron cursed. “We will kill every last one of these abominations! What is the plan?” Dak turned to see the man glaring at Isilmewen with angry expectation.

“There may be no need of a plan, ruthaer,” he suggested flatly, moving to impose himself between Isilmewen and Thanon, “I don’t think that anyone is at home…” he pointed at the cave with the iron end of his bata, “… If there is anyone or anything in there, they’re being awfully quiet.”

He turned his gaze to Isilmewen then. “If you would have me delve deeper, Lala,” he suggested, “I will do so but, as I said, by all indications – the silence from within and the blackened interior of the ring – I believe that the ‘Ksher and his pets are gone from here.”

Isilmewen traced the sight before her with careful consideration. Too much didn't add up. What she wouldn't give to just be on some hunt for game, or on the trail making safe the path for some caravan. That, at least, followed the natural patterns. This?

"Heren'salkya, you're making my head spin with this twirling," she murmured to herself, her fingers brushing the star ring brooch she wore.

Come on, put it together.

Behind them, Thanon was raging. “Waara’thostea!” the pengron cursed. “We will kill every last one of these abominations! What is the plan?”

"First, we steady," Isilmewen replied, her voice soft as she offered calm to the others, "Still the fire in our breast, that it won't smoke our vision to what we must see if we are to avoid the worst. Monstrous, yes, but not without purpose. Our adversary's purpose... So then, what can we tell from their tracks?"

"Two bodies, now, that we've seen," Isilmewen frowned, "The first ravaged by might, but body left behind. Not food, so why?"

Untouched even by scavengers. That... that told her something.

"If even rejected by those that would eventually return the body to the ground, what does that tell us of the state of the body?"

Something amiss. Either the body was unsafe for even them, or... perhaps claimed.

She nodded to Dak, "The 'Ksher, probably. But all left, probably not." She pointed at the body laying outside the cave, "What do you know of the ones that scavenge? There are animals, yes, but so too there are other things. And after what we've seen, after what Raudhri's endured... I hope I'm wrong, but be ware of the one that is still. If growth stirs inside of it, unseen, then make ready to move quickly, dear shadow."

"Let us see to preparations as we can, with what little we do know," Isilmewen added, "Even as Dak acts as our eyes, the rest of us best cover the entrance; if some of the beasts yet linger, we may force a halt to their advance if we pin them there. That will stay their numbers, if there is more than one. At the same time, heed your senses. If you see fungus bloom, if you hear overlarge bee, call and be ready to reposition if our flank is threatened."