Following the clash, Avi issued a directive for all team members to scour the vicinity, their torches still flickering with vitality. Their mission: to track down the elusive whispering shaman and neutralize him, lest he morph into a latent threat capable of unleashing chaos at any given moment.

Despite the exhaustive combing of the mercenaries, their efforts yielded naught. Avi stood at the heart of the encampment, a simmering brew of frustration brewing within him, while Airen, just returned, readied himself to counsel Avi towards abandoning the pursuit.

"Your Excellency, I believe it prudent to cease further pursuit," Airen advised. "We've canvassed the area thoroughly, and venturing deeper into the forest could expose us to unforeseen risks."

"It feels disconcerting not to have apprehended that scoundrel," Avi murmured.

"But Your Excellency, the lives of our comrades—"

"I know, I know," Avi sighed wearily, his hand halting halfway towards his scabbard. "We've engaged in a battle of wits all night, yet he remains as elusive as ever. It's as though we've been mere pawns in a game of manipulation."

"If fate deems it so, we shall cross paths with him again."

"I harbor no desire for such a reunion," Avi lamented. "Airen, ride forth and summon the others back. I believe I am in need of some respite."

"As you wish, Your Excellency." Airen took a few steps before casting a backward glance. "Your Excellency, the surrounding perils have not been fully eradicated. I implore you to maintain a measure of vigilance."

"Rest assured, I shall remain vigilant."

Once Airen had departed, Avi massaged his temples and made his way to the wagon, its cover providing a veil of concealment—the gunpowder had been removed prior to battle, and the wagon, now laden with corpses, served as a makeshift barrier—intent on conducting a thorough inspection of its contents.

Avi refrained from divulging the presence of corpses within to the other team members, knowing full well that such news would likely provoke a demand for their disposal. Even Avi himself pondered the wisdom of ridding themselves of these morbid remains.

The corpses within the wagon were invaluable evidence, despite their desiccated state. They held the potential to lead to the identification of their purchasers.

"Yet these artifacts could prove to be a double-edged sword," Avi reflected. "Survival must take precedence amidst considerations of morality and potential rewards."

For the sake of propriety, it was imperative to ensure their proper disposal.

As Avi lifted the canvas shrouding the wagon, he was met with a sight that rendered him speechless.

The desiccated corpses had vanished, replaced by the lifeless bodies of the mastiffs they had dispatched.

"Blast it all, is this some cruel jest or a twisted reality?"

Avi meticulously inspected each wagon, only to find the same disconcerting scene repeated. To compound matters, the livestock tethered behind the encampment, responsible for hauling the wagons, had also perished, their carcasses strewn amidst the foliage, emitting a putrid stench.

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"What in blazes is going on—?!"

The situation grew increasingly enigmatic.

According to Avi's understanding, if these creatures had fallen victim to the whispering shaman, there would have been odious marks and symbols left in their wake—a testament to the shaman's "divine decrees."

Yet these livestock had passed away serenely, devoid of any visible wounds—their deaths inexplicable save for the intervention of magic.

"These creatures met their demise without suffering, devoid of any external injuries. Magic seems the only plausible explanation," Avi surmised. "Someone in our midst possesses magical prowess and conducts themselves with sinister intent... but who could it be?"

Before the team returned, Avi took it upon himself to tidy up the camp. Upon Rafe and Airen's return with the weary mercenaries, they discovered Avi seated by the campfire.

"Boss, what's the word?" Rafe approached Avi, his massive sword still smeared with blood. "We didn't catch that... whatever it was, but we did manage to scrounge up some fruit. No worries about going hungry."

"Our current dilemma supersedes such matters," Avi replied, rising to his feet and striding towards the wagon. "Gentlemen, we have a pressing issue." With a swift motion, he unveiled the wagon's contents, revealing, "Our merchandise has been replaced by these canine corpses."

A murmur of shock rippled through the mercenaries at the sight of the blood-soaked bodies within the wagon. Soon, whispers of concern spread among them, mostly revolving around orcs and malevolent deities.

"By Sigmar's grace... such horrors I've only heard recounted once before, and after that, the orcs launched a devastating assault on Middenland... it was a sight to behold."

"Does this imply—"

"Enough!" Avi's commanding voice cut through the chatter. "I've seen this before; it's magic. A mage has swapped our goods with these carcasses. There's little point in delving deeper into the forest."

"The gunpowder!" Manid interjected, pushing through the crowd. "I recall we still possess some. It could clear a path for us! Once we depart from here, survival is within reach..."

"Survival is indeed our priority, but does anyone here possess the expertise to handle gunpowder safely?" Avi scanned the assembly, finding no volunteers. "Furthermore, even if someone were adept, the resulting explosion could engulf the forest, leaving us all charred remains."

"What's our next move then?" Rafe inquired.

"We shall continue along our current path, but with heightened vigilance," Avi declared. "Should we find ourselves targeted by a mage, our only recourse is a swift retreat."

"Understood, boss," Rafe chuckled. "But these hides seem like quite the treasure. Shall we skin them?"

"Indeed, let's skin them all!" Avi nodded resolutely. "Why waste such valuable resources?"

Throughout the night, Rafe, brimming with energy and eschewing sleep, single-handedly skinned the mastiffs. Unable to dissuade him, Avi and the others retired to rest.

Despite the ominous aura cast by the bizarre deaths of the livestock, the night brought a glimmer of solace as Rafe remained unscathed, suggesting that their unseen adversary harbored no immediate ill will.

Come morning, as Avi observed Rafe nonchalantly at work, a sense of relief washed over him.

The "Cheater" Mercenary Company left behind the gunpowder and the wagon, opting instead to pack their belongings into wooden crates and sacks provided by Avi, hastening their departure.

For many among the group, the peculiar demise of the livestock served as an ill omen, fostering a pervasive sense of unease even as they resumed their journey.

During the midday reprieve, Airen approached Avi with a revelation.

"Your Excellency, I posit that the culprit may not be a whispering shaman, but rather a vampire."

"A vampire?!" Avi exclaimed, dropping the dry bread he held.

"Yes, it's plausible. A lone vampire could have employed illusion to manipulate a small pack of mastiffs, instilling fear and facilitating the theft of our 'goods.' Had it been a whispering shaman, the situation would likely have escalated beyond mere theft of mummified corpses."

"Hmm... that does make sense," Avi conceded. "But why would a vampire settle for a mere dozen mummified corpses? Wouldn't the blood of living beings be a more enticing prize?"

"That would require a more extensive explanation... Your Excellency, should you have the time."