Thomas let out a breath tinged with frustration. A village child near him shied, but he comforted the girl with a burst of happy confidence he projected and by playfully ruffling her hair. She giggled shyly and reached for his hand. Thomas gladly took the young girl's hand in his own and continued walking with the villagers. The uncertain child delighted in the safety she felt near him, letting down her guard and clinging tightly to his hand. It was a pleasant sight and sensation.

Commander Volkstead was an able officer, and sent along at Thomas's request so he could do just this. Right now Thomas was working to right many wrongs that Melbar and his callused command had made. Many times now instead of sending more faceless militia soldiers he had taken to the work himself. Right now he was the sole bodyguard of the group of perhaps forty villagers that had all been arrested in obviously dubious circumstances.

Their little village was called Maple by imperial records, but the villagers simply called it 'home' or 'the village' having no need or thought beyond making their honest living. Even the elderly elven couple who made medicines for the people and tended to the tree's health just called it home. The pair smiled at the Hero, giving him polite and low nods that suggested something closer to a bow for his efforts in freeing them all from the internment camps.

Thomas was having a hell of a time untying the nest of problems, logistic and otherwise, of getting everyone back to where they needed to be. More than once he had been confronted by grieving families. He had given orders that reparations be made, but he had yet to hear back from the capital on that. There were any number of crimes that had been committed, and looting besides. It would take a tidy sum to get the people back their belongings or even just basic replacements.

The process was massively slowing the previous occupation forces' departure in fact. And to make things worse those men would go home to tell of the Hero's fury against the God of Light's own forces. Crimes like looting were the least of his worries, items could be returned and were, but if all else failed, the families were at least compensated. But rape, and the rings of slave trafficking…

Thomas's hands felt stained even when they were clean, and in the tight grip of an innocent child no less. Coming here, and undoing these wrongs had shown him a side of himself that he hadn't known. A side of him that was furious, impatient, and cold as ice. That Melbar had seen the Followers of Istania who would not surrender their beliefs as little more than unwanted cattle had disgusted him.

Before this Thomas had never killed a man outright for a crime. He had always kept to the rules, to the process. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. The child holding the other smiled up at him as her sharp mundane mind and sense of empathy picked up on his discomfort. He smiled at her and kept a steady pace the child could hold easily.

His face displayed none of the torrent of displeased emotions that rolled through his head with the memories of this recent week past.

He had gone down to the camp docks, already furious at what Volkstead and his men had uncovered as the long work of taking over logistics handling took place. Volkstead was uncovering more and more everyday back then, and Thomas had been about ready to blow.

When Thomas found the women and children stowed away, all bound and ready for the 'next shipment' to happen that night, he had finally lost his patience. He remembered how easy it was to lift the ring leader into the air. He remembered the sounds that had come from the man when he put him into the remains of a stone wall. His body had lost the contest between the two and broke in various places, but that was only the beginning.

In a fury Thomas had literally beaten the man to death before he managed control of his anger. Theadus's glorious light had been shining from him cold, and angry, and the man had been completely helpless to resist. Thomas had used the sight to terrify the remaining men, and cow them into surrendering. He had made a play, based upon an inferred lie, that if they gave up their fellows they might escape the hangman's noose. They had not. Even Melbar had not escaped that.

Thomas tried not to remember the sound of his fists shattering rib bones. He tried not to think of the blood that covered them, but the thoughts remained like a stain on his mind.

Instead of fighting in internal war he gently hefted the child, and sat her upon his shoulders. She tittered and giggled until she was properly settled.

“Will you show me the way from here Elly?” He asked.

They were near the front of the column. There were enough children and elderly members of the village to keep the pace rather sedate.

“Just follow the cart path silly.” Elly chided him, breaking into more giggles.

“But that's no fun. Maybe we should take a different way.” Thomas found himself saying.

Elly laughed.

“There's big bugs in the woods. They're yucky and bite, but sometimes daddy can catch them, boil them and make something that's almost good.” She provided.

At the mention of him she smiled and waved to her father. He waved back from where he drove one of the wagons. Relief and ease was practically oozing from him to Thomas' passive Hero's Insight.

“Bug soup? Ugh. Gross.” Thomas said, his voice animated with humor.

“I know right?” Elly asked, laughing again.

She leaned down and hugged Thomas's head, her hands forming into a warm headband across his forehead. They enjoyed a comfortable silence for a small stretch of time.

“You're a good Hero Thomas.” She said idly, and hid a yawn behind her hand.

Thomas was quiet for another moment. He found he had desperately needed to hear that. Some might think the opinion of a child in such a manner as a poor indication of the truth, but Thomas found that children had an uncanny way of knowing who were the good and bad people. Elly seemed particularly sharp in this manner.

“Should I get you a pillow?” Thomas asked.

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Elly let out a suddenly tired laugh.

“Your hair is fluffy enough to be okay without one.” She said smartly.

Thomas found himself smiling as the child laid her head down and clung to him. Elly wasn't ever going to be very big since her parents weren't, but she seemed short even then.

“What did you think of the man who came to save your people from the mean army men?” Thomas asked then. He wasn't sure where he was going with this, but trusted his gut feeling anyway.

“It was scary. The priestess was nice, but soldiers kept yelling at daddy, and they only came back that night when the scary man made them go away. Daddy wouldn't let me outside for a few days. They had to dig graves for those men.” Elly answered, her voice subdued.

“I'm sorry to bring it up. I don't know what I was thinking.” Thomas replied.

“It's okay.” Elly said, covering another yawn before she went on. “He didn't hurt Daddy, or Mommy, or my sisters. Those army men didn't seem like good soldiers—Not like yours. Their looks scared my sisters, and we started hiding when they would come. They didn't like the Priestess lady either who just wanted everyone to follow the new rules.”

Thomas listened, his internal mood darkening again as he did. Elly yawned again and leaned heavily into him. Her weight was nothing of course. Thomas's Hero Job was at Level 86. The attributes that gave him were frankly ridiculous.

“Her name was Clarissa. Clarissa Volkstead. She was my friend's niece. He cared for her very much.” Thomas found himself saying.

His thoughts wandered over his other purpose in coming to this village specifically. Perhaps he had already been thinking about it, but as he often felt in recent days he was scatterbrained and distracted. Lyrica was so much better with these sort of administrative ordeals, but she and the rest of his party were serving his greater mission. There was no good to come of wishing she were here now. It would be nice to have someone to talk to however. Perhaps even just to vent if not to sort out his scattered mind.

The column of returning villagers spread out as they finally reached their destination. Going through the seemingly endless forest path gave the trip something of a never ending quality. Yet arriving was a relief. The good news was that before the villagers' arrest they were allowed to lock up and seal their homes against animal and looter intrusion. Bandits, if there were any in the area any longer, were keeping their heads down while the army was in the area besides but it was good to see the village in good order.

Still the smithy was missing some tools, but as part of their recompense the village had come with rebuilding materials enough to fix what damage there was before. That included a new set of tools that Thomas would make sure stayed with the smith. The people went about their business, and the girl acted as a guide for him.

“That's Daddy's Inn. We got lots of rooms. That's the smithy. Greg doesn't make big weapons like in the stories, but he's good at fixing all sorts of things. He makes puzzles sometimes that make me mad. Mommy can make them come apart but I can't yet. That's where Bel and Luke live. They've been here a long, long time, but they are really nice. They make medicine. Grab and Dacy live over there.” The girl rambled on, pointing things out as she informed him.

Thomas wandered toward the healer's shop. It, more than any other building, had been first vandalized and stolen from by the mysterious man who had killed the militia patrol sent to this area. As he approached something foul tingled at his senses. It took him a moment to focus on it.

“Hero's Clarity.” Thomas chanted, targeting himself mentally, his hands busy holding the girl steady by his very gentle grip on her calves.

The moment the spell struck Thomas's senses his focus on his Insight filled him with phantom sensations. Screams ghostly and ethereal carried emotions long forgotten, and the scent of blackened afflicted wounds, and the soporific spell scent of sleeping magic filled his mind. As with any site like this where a battle had taken place the spell made everything turn from a ghost of an echo to something almost overwhelming.

He braced himself and began to orient the sensations. He knew then where the main fighting had taken place. The sense of it stung at his nose and mind. The men's panic was unreal, heightened somehow, and their attackers mind had left an impeccable scent of rage and despair. Even a week gone the scent was still there, it was so clear and sharp, and somehow twisted. Thomas was sure that no matter the charisma no ordinary mortal mind could produce those emotions.

There was something more. Elly rambled on telling him where to go and who lived where, but Thomas replied and listened idly.

His main focus was on a spot down the lane where the village path was sheltered deep in the trees. This place lived right in the forest, right alongside it, and the villagers didn't clear away any but the most troublesome and dying trees. Their gardens were hidden away in this manner as well, and some bushes and trees left for an easy bounty throughout the little village besides.

However there was a spot along the path that writhed to his senses. The very plants and trees around it gave off a miserable and unnatural sensation of longing. Something dark, and powerful enough left lingering desire in the very plants around it that had stood there and unleashed its unnatural charisma.

It was so potent that for a moment Thomas thought he could see the shadow of the being. It stood, femininity oozing from it, and seemed to raise a single hand beckoning hand before he could dismiss it from his thoughts. Thomas knew then that the dark being was the one that had spread the sleeping spell. Such widespread magical workings were easy pickings, even without an active spell effect, given his potent Wisdom Attribute. The dark presence had also done something else. It was the beginning of a tale of terror that started near enough to where he stood.

Thomas didn't know Clarissa personally so he didn't have a way to tell the scents of her emotions from the others, but he could imagine her being the focus of the dark being. The spell and its nature being used by the Charisma Attribute could be used to control her, or more simply stop her from supporting her command.

“What's that shed there, Elly?” Thomas asked, having to wait a moment until her current explanation stopped.

“That's the tap shed.” Elly informed him brightly. “It's where we put all the taps, drills, and tools the village uses to harvest the sap from the trees. Everyone needs tools come harvest time so we just put them all there so it's easy to find.”

Thomas held his gaze on the shed for a little while. His imagination ran with what he could sense of it. The charismatic creature, and the one with twisted emotions went there together. In their wake was a nose biting stench of terror, pain, and desperation. Oddest of all was that the scent of it cut off like it had been severed with a knife. Thomas had only run into something like that before in specific locations. Never had it been anything as bad as this, but in his experience only Dungeon dimensional gates cut emotional scents off like that.

With Elly still on his shoulders he went to the shed, and cast open the door. Inside there was little to tell. Elly looked about curiously, but was unafraid and unaware. Everyone would be unless they had a perception power on level with Thomas's Hero class.

There had never been a body found. His friend, Commander Volkstead, still held hope, but looking into the shed, and feeling what he was, Thomas was certain there was no way she could have survived. The desperation, and buried will of iron Clarissa shared with her uncle would have left a trail Thomas could have sensed coming from here with the effects of his Hero's Clarity spell. Instead the emotions faded, and the action seemed to have ended here as well. All emotions less potent than that of battle had faded and were gone.

He was certain he was sensing Clarissa's last moments and moved onto the next option.

“Hero's Magic Sense.” Thomas chanted, ready to explore and investigate in other avenues.

Before his next thought formed he had moved. He had taken Elly from his shoulders, and dashed away using Flash Step, protecting her from the rapid movement with a shielding spell, and held ready a Ray of Light spell within his outstretched hand. Elly squealed in startled surprise now against his chest.

Thomas started, but there was only an empty shed. The other villagers heard Elly's cry and came running, but stopped and looked about curiously after seeing Thomas and the girl in good health. The girl was tucked against his chest, shielded from harm, and completely safe. Whatever damage he might have done to her moving so fast had been easily mitigated by the magic of his spell, but the girl was still scared and confused. She clung to Thomas and hid her face.

“Keep away from that shed.” Thomas said, loudly and clearly to all of the villagers. “Elly, I need you to stay with your parents for now. You've been a big help, but you should be with them now. I'll come see you again before I leave, but I've found something dangerous I need to take care of.” He instructed the girl, speaking loud enough for her nearby mother and other villagers to hear.

They spread the word and Thomas handed the girl off to approach the shed yet again.

To his spell enhanced mystical senses the shed was writhing in unspeakable darkness. Its door was suddenly an invisible maw filled with twisting shadow fangs that became tentacles, and then broke into floating tendrils of smoke. The shadows inside seemed...alive with hate and desire. Thomas knew nothing of what could cause an effect like that, but to say that whatever had happened inside the shed had cursed it deeply.

A ritual perhaps? But why the cut off like a dimensional gate? The dark figure had remained, her presence only dimly around this shed, but the figure with the twisted emotions had returned from the cut of the emotional trail after vanishing with the victim. Thomas stared at the shed while, his thoughts rolling, before he retrieved Lyrica's borrowed book and got t