“Hmm,” Maeryn growled, “I don’t like any of this.”

“Same,” Jeanne said. “None of this is pointing to anything I’d call good.”

“No, with an ill wind in the air and the earth cold to the touch, this bring foul tidings.”

“What are you thinking?” Jeanne asked the elven archer.

“Me? I think we get our weapons silvered before we leave this place.”

“Yeah,” Jeanne said, not wanting to admit the truth, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I’m concerned with who did it?” Maeryn said. “Almost an entire village ripped to shreds, some of the dead coming back to life and for what? Gold? Supplies? Sport?”

“You think someone would do all that just for the fun of it?” Jeanne asked her.

“Not the first time someone’s spilt blood for the thrill.”

“And the reanimation?”

Maeryn shrugged. “That one I think we should look into before we make any final conclusions.”

“Going back into town?”

“I don’t know of any other manner to find out what happened.”

“Helle, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not thrilled either.”

“You think we’ll find something?”

“I couldn’t tell you. But I’m hoping with a dawning light we’ll have an easier time figuring that out.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Jeanne said.

“You think this could be any of the Kolvilles?” Maeryn asked.

Jeanne shook her head. “I don’t know. They weren’t vampires last time I lived here.”

“I’m afraid this might be from that artifact they took.”

“You think they did something?”

“Could’ve been something they did. Could’ve been from mere exposure. I’ve heard than a few stories about people turning into animals simply from being near a vampire.”

“If only it worked that way,” Gabriel said as she joined them.

“It doesn’t?” Maeryn asked.

Gabriel shook her head. “No, there’s lot more to it. Usually there as to be a transference of blood. Usually from the vampyre to person to be turned.”

“Huh,” Jeanne said, “I usually thought you’d have to be bitten to be turned into a vampire.”

“Not always. Though I’ve seen some people who contracted some illness or another through being bitten. But to be turned into a proper vampyre, you need to have actual vampiric blood in you.”

“So what do you think?” Maeryn asked Gabriel.

“Hmm, you mean about the town?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish didn’t have to say it, but this is definitely the work of a vampire or more.”

“More!” Jeanne exclaimed.

“Vampires tend to work well in groups. Usually it’s a necessity. But yeah, they tend to move in colonies.” Gabriel turned noticing Jeanne and Maeryn’s confused looks. “That’s what you call a group of vampires.”

“Oh,” Jeanne and Maeryn said in unison.

“Though my concern is if this was work of the Kolvilles.”

“You think they would’ve used the object to … turn themselves?” Jeanne asked.

“They could certainly try,” Gabriel replied. “Though the results can be … bad.”

“How bad are we talking about here?” Maeryn asked.

“Usually if someone is being turned, it’s a gradual process. That’s so we can measure and determine how much more blood is needed to turn the individual. The blood needed for a human is going to be different than for an elf or a dwarf and they’ll be different than what you’ll use for a halfling. But if you don’t take any of that into consideration, and just gulp down whatever amount of blood you feel will give you power, then … you can have some dire consequences.”

“How bad are we talking about?” Jeanne asked Gabriel.

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“Things that give nightmares pause,” Gabriel replied.

Jeanne rubbed the back of her head. “Well, that’s making feel ever so much better.”

“I don’t doubt that, but at least we’ll have a better idea of what in the Low Hells we’ll be dealing with.”

“Yeah,” Jeanne said, rubbing her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

***

The morning brought little ease to The Wolves’ minds. Many of the bodies, now shriveled and desiccated under the bright sun. Even the flies and crows had little desire to spend time around this poor spot in the world. Jeanne and Benkin looked through one of the houses, now empty and thoroughly ransacked for anything valuable. Much of the furniture inside were broken into pieces, the doors to the cupboards ripped out and dashed against the walls.

“Same in here as in the rest of them,” Benkin said.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jeanne said. “Why break the furniture, the cabinetry? I can see nabbing the valuables and things to sell for a quick coin. But this, this is just unneeded.”

“I wish I could provide some answers to that,” Benkin replied. “But I think that’s going to be a mystery until we come across the buggers who did this.”

“Yeah,” Jeanne said, “I guess we will.”

“Hey!” they heard Leonidas call out. “I could use a hand with this!”

Jeanne and Benkin saw the doctor trying to lift the end of a cart. The two came over to the doctor and helped him lift the wagon onto its side. Underneath the cart was a man and woman, both crushed by the weight of the items as it had been flipped over. “Oh gods, I’m sorry Doc?” Benkin asked.

Leonidas shook his head. “Me too,” he said as he ran his hand over his face.

“Do you think there’s anyone still alive around here?” Benkin asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Leonidas said, his head hanging down, “but I want to think there’s something of a chance.”

“Maybe we should check the houses on the other side before we meet back with the others,” Benkin said.

Jeanne nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’ll see what’s there,” she said with some apprehension.

Moving further to the western side of the town, the three came upon a series of houses. Some burnt down to the ground, others with doors and shutters destroyed and shattered. Splotches of blood marked the outer walls, and Jeanne could see where bodies had been thrown against the building and smashed the bits of the wattle and daub façade.

“Where are the bodies?” Benkin asked. “It’s like they all went missing.”

Jeanne shook her head. “I don’t know, and I don’t like it.”

Benkin turned his head up, sniffing the air. With only a couple of whiffs he turned his head away quickly, covering his nose and mouth with one hand. “Oh gods!” he exclaimed. “There’s a horrible smell here.”

“We’ll check that out once we’re done with the houses,” Jeanne said. “I’d rather not having something jump out if we can clear the houses.”

Entering one house, the three found a man, ripped into two pieces. One half resting on the table, and the other on the floor nearby. A woman’s body rested nearby, withered and her abdomen opened and her innards missing entirely. “This is just foul beyond words,” Benkin said, “desecration of the natural order in every way imaginable.”

“You can say that again,” Jeanne said as she knelt down and examined the woman’s body.

She looked up and turned to Leonidas. “Is this normal for vampyres?”

Leonidas shook his head. “No, most tend to drink only blood. And usually in a controlled setting.”

“Controlled?” Benkin asked.

“Cups, goblets, kylixes, dishware like that. The whole neck biting thing is more of a myth, unless one is famished and on the verge of death. Or ... whatever in mercy’s name happened here.”

“Do you know if they’ll … come back?” Benkin asked.

Leonidas shrugged. “I can’t say. Given the condition of the bodies, I doubt it. But it’s not unheard of. Plus, there’s other elements you need to account for to see if someone can be resurrected.”

“So, it is possible?” Jeanne asked.

Leonidas nodded with some uncertainty. “It’s not impossible.”

“What do you do then to keep it from happening?”

“About the same as killing a vampire. Stake through the heart, severe the head and burn everything to keep the person from regenerating.”

Jeanne grimaced and she noted Benkin looking uncomfortable at the news. “We’ll see how Cid wants to handle that,” Jeanne said.

A loud creak caused all three to snap their attention towards a cabinet resting on a wall placed along the other end of the house. Readying their weapons they moved cautiously towards the cabinet. Jeanne at the front, with Benkin standing across with the tip of his blade trained to the small doors. Leonidas stood behind, slowly closing the front door shut and preparing an incantation with his staff.

As Jeanne gripped the knob on the door, she heard a sharp inhale and the piece shaking abruptly for a moment. Jeanne recalled her hand back slowly, gesturing Benkin and Leonidas to lower their weapons. “Is there someone in there?” she asked aloud.

Silence answered her. Jeanne moved closer to the cabinet. “It’s all right, you’re safe now.”

The door slowly opened as they could the light begin illuminating the inside of the recess. An eye, red and with tears watering up along the bottom stared out at the three. Soft whimpers of a young girl could be heard as the door opened a little bit more. More of the face peeked out, they could see the poor girl shaking as she stared out.

Her hair hung straight down, matted with sweat, her clothes stained with dirt and blood marks. While her teeth were bared, as they chattered and she breathed quickly in and out, there wasn’t a sense of hostility. Her fingers gripped the wood panel of the door tightly against the slab.

Jeanne could see the distant stare in her eyes. As if she was looking straight through her, into a distance far beyond this dreadful place. This was a look Jeanne knew before, and it tore her heart to see someone so young going through such a thing. She turned back to the others, who were already sheathing their weapons and Leonidas was removing his satchel from his shoulders and placing it on the table.

Jeanne turned back to the young woman and gestured her to come out. “It’s all right. You can come out.”

“Are they gone?” the halfling girl asked in a wavering voice. “Are the monsters gone?”

“They are,” Jeanne replied. “They’re gone.” Jeanne waved for the girl to come out, with her doing so with great apprehension. As Leonidas began to move towards the young woman shirked back, her hands pressing against her chest.

Leonidas raised a palm towards her to calm the young halfling’s nerves. “Nothing to worry about. I’m a doctor,” he said to her reassuringly. The young woman looked at Jeanne who nodded agreeably.

Moving to the doctor, the young woman sat down at the table as Leonidas began to look her over. Jeanne went over to Benkin and whispered, “What do you make of it?”

Benkin shook his head. “I don’t know. But if she’s the only one, she may be the sole person to tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know if she’ll be able to talk about such things.”

“I know,” Benkin said, looking back at the halfling girl before returning Jeanne. “She may not be able to speak of what happened at all.”

Jeanne rubbed her forehead as she sunk her mace back into its holder on her belt. “This is going to be a long dead.”

“I wish I could say it was the last one,” Benkin said to her.

“Yeah, I know,” Jeanne replied, letting out a long sigh.