The captain walked through the bodies with a look of disgust on his face that was evident to everyone around. His helmet had to come off as soon as he walked in. That distinct scent of death was too heavy for him with his nose encased in black steel. Before him was a massacre the likes of which Ardmach had never seen, and for it to be over kobolds made him sick to his stomach. Their attention had been grabbed hours ago, the city sealed, the guards sweeping the streets, but no suspects had been turned up. Many of the escaped kobolds had been recaptured, but that was secondary to finding who had committed the atrocity the captain was looking at.

In the very first room, there were three bodies, two of which had been stabbed in the back. Whoever had killed them hadn't even had the decency to do it to their faces. Someone more versed in the human body would have to determine what exactly happened, but the early reports he'd been given concerned him. His men had told of each man stabbed with precision, or having their throats torn out by beasts. Rarely did a man have both wounds. It spoke of a well planned and executed attack. The kind of attack that a soldier might perform. After seeing the first few bodies he was worried one of the guards had decided to be moral about the lizards.

Things didn't get better as he traveled deeper into the building. Bodies littered the floor, left where they fell, blood cooled and pooled around them. He couldn't help but think of how these men had families. Some of them, certainly, were more objectionable in the eyes of the law, at least two of the men he saw had gotten into knife fights with the populace of Ardmach, but nothing that deserved the fate that had befallen them. Many of them had perfectly clean records, to his knowledge, and being the captain of the guard he had a keen eye for remembering such things. His tour of the building, and the things he felt for these men, had to be put aside.

The captain turned to the soldier that had been following him and told the man, “I need a headcount on the guard.”

“The guard, sir?” the man questioned, worried, as any guard would be at such an accusation.

“These strikes are methodical, trained. It's possible it's one of our men,” the captain admitted out loud. His heart was heavy.

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Before the soldier could run off, the sound of heavy boots caught both of their attention. The captain froze, his blood turning to ice, as he saw the dark gray armor walking towards them. It was a heavy plate that everyone in Ardmach knew, but none spoke of outside of whispers. Spikes rose off the sides, curling upwards like horns, in some places, deterring anyone from approaching or daring to touch them. The Eyes of Ethral, Ardmach's imperial investigators. He should have expected with a crime of this magnitude that one of them would be dispatched. With few options left, the captain saluted the approaching investigator and waited hesitantly for the judgment of the Eyes.

“This is sloppy work,” the man said, his voice echoing from under the helm.

Off guard, the captain asked, “Sloppy, sir?”

The Eyes looked and explained, “The men behind you are stabbed while the ones back here were attacked by some kind of hound. If it were you raiding the place, would you be in front of a pack of dogs?” Of course not, it would leave him exposed to needless danger.

“No, sir,” he said immediately. “But what does that have to do-.”

“A rookie would also hide behind an animal,” the investigator added. “This was done by someone outside of the guard, but with a lot of similar training.”

“But who would that be?” The captain stopped saluting, realizing his arm had been stuck there for a time and continued, “I believe it was a rookie, someone wanting to prove themselves with a moral crusade in mind.” Someone that would act sloppy, if only to prove a point, but more likely because they lost their cool.

The Eyes of Ethral disagreed. “No, the precision of these strikes are of a man in his right mind. There's no needless bloodshed, beyond the obvious. The first two men attacked were only knocked on conscious before being slain. Something set the attacker off after he'd tried to spare them.” He. The Eyes had a culprit in mind.

“What would you have us do then, sir?” the captain asked, simply not wanting to offend the second highest authority in the kingdom.

“Have the men check the arrivals. We're looking for a man with short, dark hair and brown eyes.” A very specific culprit.

He had to ask, “Does this man have a name?”

There was a sudden cold silence between them. “If he turns up, I'll inform you for the wanted posters,” The Eyes said to break that silence.

The captain nodded, saluted, and hurried off with his subordinate. They could do both, check their ranks and run down the log of arrivals from the past week, just to be safe. Still, he looked over his shoulder as the investigator knelt and looked at a body. It was no coincidence in his mind that The Eyes of Ethral had a suspect in mind so quickly. There was just no proof as to who or why, yet.