The Autobiography of Elisaac

Here in the twilight of my life, I set down my thoughts so that those that follow will understand why I did what I did. And why despite the claims, that I am no hero.

I.

 

There are few joys in this life more fulfilling than to see a work completed, especially after much struggle and heartache. That is why after collecting and organizing the notes I’ve taken over the course of my life I find myself troubled by the lack of accomplishment I feel in this moment. What has it all led up to? What was it all ultimately for? Perhaps those who come after me will have a better chance at understanding the meaning of my collected experiences, even as that meaning eludes me. For now that will have to be consolation enough as I see little use for my written musings except as a distraction in my final days. What I realize I have not done and which has brought me back to my quill and parchment, is how all of my works came to be. I shall remedy that in short order but first a bit of background. My life’s journey began when I received my first assignment long ago in the capitol city of Aurica where as a child I became learned in the ways of reading and writing. It was a privilege I did not realize so few had at the time. The name of the school I attended escapes me now, but it was a prestigious school and my parents made sure that my education would not be lacking. That school was not as prestigious as the ones attended by princelings and others of royal station, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Once I had graduated to the ranks of the educated, I set about to use my acquired skills for the betterment of the Auric people and soon found myself as one of a legion of scribes the capitol employs.

I had not worked a single lunar cycle as a scribe before I begged to be transferred somewhere else. The distinctive smell of scribal ink and old parchment haunts me still. It was not laborious or grueling work, but in much the same manner as counting sand grains on a beach is not laborious or grueling. Unfortunately, the khanate had a voracious need for scribes and my fate as far as the bureaucracy was concerned, was sealed. I endured my apprenticeship with grumbles and groans and hearty amounts of wine until I became an official scribe. I was then assigned to Mediclus the Elder who recorded the findings of the local Observatorium which was headed by his son Mediclus the Younger. I look back on those days fondly. The observators where some of the sharpest people you’d ever meet, and their dedication to watching the sky inspired admiration in me. I saw it as a carefree pursuit compared to the other Major Arts, but the observators assured me that their station had been very important once, in ages past. It was their forebears in fact who had developed the lunar calendar and it was the lunar calendar that determined the harvest times, a fact that they would remind me of often. I had only been an apprentice scribe for a year before the event that set the course of the rest of my life occurred. It was a cool summer evening when the letter arrived from the magistrate. It was addressed to Mediclus but he called me in so I could have a look at it as well. I had to read the letter several times before the contents would sink in.

“Does this mean…” I began to say.

“Yes. I will be gone by the morrow. I know not when I will return,” Mediclus replied.

“But what about…”

“You will come with me,” Mediclus answered again before I had a chance to finish.

“There is a back log of data we still need to transcribe from last week’s observations. Who will finish it?” I asked.

“They will find someone else. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Elisaac. I want you to be there,” Mediclus said.

I could not believe it. I read the letter again.

 

To whom it may concern,

 

Congratulations. You have been assigned to follow the Settling Company #3 as they make their way to Colonial Settlement #54-A in the Ethnin Region. Your assignment starts promptly. Please report to Sendoff Road at dawn or risk a heavy fine and/or imprisonment. That is all.

 

 

Magistrate Locquis

 

It was a direct request from Magistrate Locquis to my mentor and I was going to be a part of it. Finally a chance for excitement! A chance to travel and chronicle life on the frontier. I could not wait to start. I wonder if I would have been as excited had I known what awaited me in those dark and poorly charted woods. The next morning I was packed and ready to go. I was so excited I didn’t spare a second to say goodbye to my scribe friends at the Observatorium and wrote only the briefest of letters to my parents telling them of my trip. I recall I was wearing my best robe and cloak as befit a scribe. It was a little large but I was proud of the condition I kept it in. Mediclus chuckled when he saw me. He was wearing sturdier material, leather and rough cloth.

“You look as if you were going before the Grand Council,” he said to me as I approached.

“I wanted to look my best,” I replied.

“We are traveling to the frontier, son. I give it a week before you need new clothes,” Mediclus said with wry amusement.

“Shall I go fetch something else?” I asked, but Mediclus stopped me.

“It’s too late for that. Come, we must meet with our adventurous pioneers,” he said.

He took me to the edge of the market where Sendoff Road began. There I met the ragtag group of settlers that would be our travel companions for months or years depending on how our journey went. There must have been at least a hundred people gathered there, all solemnly making their last preparations before leaving the only home they’d ever known. I remember the air was not joyous or excitement or anything like the pioneering spirit I’d read about as a boy. Instead it was as if I were looking at prisoners on their way to a dungeon. The feeling made me shiver and I began to doubt whether this was a good idea after all.

The first man I noticed, the most striking to be sure, was the leader of the group; Fontis of House Gelt. He was a disgraced scion, rumor had it, because he had been caught with a prominent daughter from House Golba on the eve of her betrothal announcement. Rumors abounded in the capitol about who it was he’d been caught with but no one knew anything for sure. It was such a scandal that even I, a bookish scribe’s apprentice, knew about it even though I cared little for politics or scandal. I knew in my heart of hearts that the only reason Fontis was the leader of this company was because of the scandal. In those days, rather than start a political ruckus with assassination, High Houses would instead task their unwanted family members with impossible or nearly impossible tasks, such as starting a new colony in Ethnin territory. Exile without being exiled. Which meant that wherever we were going, was not going to be a pleasant place.

“Mediclus, good to see you,” Fontis bellowed heartily, though he didn’t have to in the quiet of the early morning.

“Fontis. I have not seen you in years. The magistrate’s specific request for me makes much more sense now,” my mentor replied.

“You are the wisest man I know. No one else would do for this most important of journeys,” Fontis said as he slapped Mediclus’ shoulder, once again very heartily.

“You can consider me a little less wise after today for agreeing to this,” Mediclus said in good humor. I had never seen my mentor as disappointed as I did at that moment. It also concerned me that Fontis knew him on a personal level.

“And who is this fine young man?” Fontis asked looking at me.

“This is my assistant. He is learning under me but is quite gifted on his own,” Mediclus replied. I was pleasantly surprised by the compliment. Mediclus usually wasn’t so generous with them.

“Does he have a name, or do you call all of them assistant?” Fontis said before laughing at his own joke.

“My name is Elisaac,” I said.

“Fontis Gelt,” he replied, taking my hand and shaking it. “Come and meet everyone else. Here is my personal entourage. Perhaps you’ll find yourself a part of it too someday, Elisaac.” He chuckled to himself. “This is my guide, Twell Fili. Listen to him and you might live to see the colony site.”

Twell tipped his fur cap at Mediclus and me. He stood a full head taller than I and had sharp looking eyes. He wasn’t old, but I remember thinking he looked like he’d seen much through those eyes. He had Auric and Ethnin features, which led me to believe that he had a mixed ancestry.

“Over here is my Chief Archon, Nettleby Panamue. He will be doing most of the scholarly work and research and what not. You will be working with him on this journey.” Fontis pointed to a tall, slim, wrinkled figure clothed in a robe weaved from colorful fabric. Unlike my attire, Archon Panamue’s robe seemed very tough and heavy. He also seemed quite healthy for his age. I suspected it had something to do with the health elixir research Archons were so fond of.

“I have very specific preferences for how I like my notes recorded. Please be sure to abide by them,” Panamue said to us.

“You shall not be disappointed,” Mediclus replied.

“And this here is the Captain of the Guard, Amaraj Doussen. He will be protecting us as we make our way to Ethnin,” Fontis said. Captain Doussen nodded gruffly but said nothing. “Don’t mind him. Despite his military background he is not an early morning person,” Fontis said to me.

Amaraj Doussen was a short, stout figure with bushy facial hair fashioned with perfect military precision and armor polished to a mirror sheen. Surely he was the pride of the Auric Army Guard. It made me wonder what he was doing here. Was he a disgraced soldier? Had he made an enemy in the Guard? I was left with many questions about my traveling companions but few answers.

The colonizers finished loading the wagons and before I knew it, we were on our way. I turned and watched as the capitol slowly disappeared behind us. I had only ever lived in two cities, my home city and the capitol, and I now had the distinct feeling that I might never see it again. Mediclus sat with Panamue in the Archon’s personal wagon. Archon Panamue droned on endlessly about how he liked his research compiled and recorded. Mediclus nodded patiently the entire time, saying nothing. I used what little free reign I had to walk among the caravan and learn what I could about the people we were traveling with. I sought out the guide Twell first. I wanted to see scouting in action, but was disappointed to find him sitting alone on the rear of Fontis Gelt’s wagon instead.

I hopped up alongside him and asked, “What are you doing back here?”

He looked at me for a long moment before replying, “Enjoying the shade.”

“I thought you would be in the front leading the way,” I said.

“They will not have need of me for a while yet. We are still in Aurica. Familiar territory. Guides are for what comes after we step outside the edge of the map,” Twell said in his famously deadpan way. I nodded and recorded that in my personal scriblet. We sat silently for a while before I pestered him again with more questions.

“I noticed you seem a bit Ethnin. Is that because you are from that region?” I asked.

“I don’t care to answer all of your questions, scribe. Know that I am familiar with that area thanks to a lot of firsthand experience,” he replied with a hard edge to his voice.

“I meant no offense, Mr. Fili,” I said quickly.

“Twell or guide. That is all I will answer to,” he said.

“Very well, Twell. Do you know much about Fontis or any of his other entourage members?” I asked. He pondered the question for a minute.

“I have been his guide for one week. I met the others barely days ago. This expedition was put together much too quickly for my taste. It stinks of desperation,” he said.

“Do you think it has anything to do with the rumors spreading around the capitol?” I asked him.

Twell turned to me and said, “Keep that nose in a scroll where it belongs.” He didn’t say anything after that. Apparently he’d decided he’d had enough of talking to a scribe’s apprentice.

I stayed close to Mediclus after that. I did not have much work to do since Panamue was so busy with his secret experiments, so I resigned myself to recording other things to keep my mind sharp. I made note of my traveling companions, talked with the settlers to see what their backgrounds were, kept note of the roads and how they shrank a little bit each day. I inspected the different wagon types and counted how many of each different kind there were. I recorded the different wheels and spokes the wagons used. I recorded local flora and fauna as we passed it by. We were headed east, the cooling of the weather made that much clear, and the changing of the plants and animals as we went kept me busying recording for much of our journey. Every once in a while we would pass a town or small village, trading what we could for what we needed but we never lingered long. There were no cities as big as the capitol on our route east so we had to keep a sharp eye on our stores of food and other essentials.

One day, I decided to ask Captain Doussen about his trade. I hadn’t much experience with military ventures and that particular day my curiosity on the subject overtook my unease with approaching the captain. I remember he’d been quite a daunting figure as befit a military leader. I found him overseeing a drill which involved the guards training in mock battle with each other, while the settlers set up camp for the night. The sergeants were barking insults at their men, sprinkling their insults with words I had little familiarity with. Doussen stood watching his men, implacable, barely saying a word to the lieutenant at his side. The butterflies returned promptly to my stomach then and I resigned myself to try him again another day when suddenly he called for me.

“What do you want, scribe?” he asked, his voice a deep tenor. I was without words for a moment, but quickly found them before he had a chance to get annoyed by my silence.

“I came to learn about you and your marital disciplines,” I said.

“You wish to be a soldier?” he asked, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

“Well no, um, sir. I was just curious,” I said trying to find my exit.

“Curiosity has killed many a thing, scribe. Come here,” he beckoned. My hopes of finding egress dashed, I decided to do what I had originally set out to do.

“Is this how the men keep their skills sharp?” I asked.

“Oh certainly,” Doussen replied.

“And do they practice like this every day?” I asked, recording in my scriblet.

“Most days, but not all. You sharpen the sword for too long and it becomes dangerously thin,” he said. I didn’t understand the captain’s metaphor, but nodded all the same.

“I am glad the guard is here. It makes me feel much safer knowing where we’re going,” I said after a moment’s pause.

“And what do you know of where we are going?” the captain asked me rather tersely. I was surprised by his suddenly unfriendly demeanor.

“Not much, other than that it is a harsh place,” I replied.

“Yes?” the captain asked, urging me on.

“Well, the men have been talking,” I started to say.

“Oh have they?” Doussen said, more to himself than to me.

“Well, the Ethnin region they say has little in the way of resources or anything that would make it a desirable place to settle. I know little about it myself, but I remember reading about certain monsters that make their home there. Vicious things like the Hilder-beast and the Slaughter hog.”

“I’ve heard the same,” said the captain.

“And I heard that the men who live there are a hardy bunch who hunt the monsters for food and sport and kill Aurics without hesitation,” I said. The captain turned quickly when he heard me say that. I saw the look in his eyes and I wished that I could somehow disappear into myself.

“You’ll hear a lot of things about Ethnin and the Ethnin people, but my advice is that you trust your eyes more than your ears,” said Doussen. Before I could respond, a scout rode up to the captain and dismounted in one swift motion.

“Sir, a ruin has been spotted in the east,” she said.

“What of it?” Doussen asked.

“Sir, we saw lights and heard sounds coming from it,” the scout continued.

“And?” Doussen asked, getting annoyed.

“Sir, we think it may be haunted. We dare not venture any closer. We’re looking for a way around it,” the scout said. Captain Doussen chuckled.

“I’ll never understand the superstitions of you frontier folk. Ruins are empty or inhabited but they are never haunted. Tell your scouts to wait for my coming,” he said. He called on a sergeant to organize a small band of ready men while he went to report to Fontis Gelt directly. I used the opportunity to hurry back to my mentor before anyone else noticed me.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of frantic scrambling in the wagon.

“Awake, scribe! Your services are required!” Panamue shouted.

I opened my eyes and saw my mentor gathering as many of his scribing instruments as he could fit in his travel sack. Archon Panamue was standing outside the wagon, poking his head through the opening.

“What are you lying about for? There is work to be done!” he shouted again. I gathered my things and met my mentor and the Archon outside.

“What is going on?” I asked Mediclus.

“The ruins they discovered last night have yielded quite a bounty and we are needed to document the findings,” he replied.

“And we must hurry there before some lowly sentry decides they’d rather pilfer the artifacts. Hurry!” Panamue shouted.

We found some horses and rode quickly to the ruins, Archon Panamue ranting the whole way there about the importance of historical preservation. As the fog of sleep left me, I began to grow excited at the thought of seeing the ruins and documenting what was to be found there. Little did I know that what I would find there would only be the beginning of my troubles.

 

 

II.

 

I knew not what to expect, certainly I had never seen a ruin before. In those days, many ruins lay undiscovered in the vast forests of the hinterlands as it was safer to stay close to the cities. Close to civilization. The age of exploration that started as a result of the colonizing efforts of the khanate led to a wonderful expansion and filling in of the map as well as the discovery of many a lost city, civilization and artifact. But as I rode toward this ruin, I realized I had scant knowledge of the people who had lived there or the history of the place where the ruin lay. I knew pretty much nothing about the forest we were currently making our way through other than its name. The Black Woods. We had been traveling for close to two lunths, or lunar cycles for the lay folk, and so it was nearing fall. The early morning mists had yet to retreat for the sun was still crawling its way up past the horizon. I remember wishing I had packed more suitably for the journey as it was rather cold and I knew it would only get colder as we continued our journey. We reached the ruin in little time. We were met by an imposing edifice; something that Mediclus said had probably been a gate once. I could scarcely imagine what such a structure would have looked like when it had been whole. Panamue hopped off his horse and scurried past the ruined gate. We followed as quickly as we could with our packs filled with scriblets and scrolls jostling at our sides.

I had thought the gate impressive, but the ruins on the other side of it left my jaw agape. They were enormous structures, half a dozen at least all built around a large square that could have held five of the grand squares in the capitol. The architectural style of the ruins was alien to me. I had never seen such strange angles used before. The lines of the buildings almost seemed to curve in places, and I wondered if it wasn’t somehow because of the march of time eroding the straightness of it away. The lack of linearity brought a strange thought to my mind. It felt as if I were looking at mountains. Mountains built here amongst the trees. Stone after stone laid on one another with perfect precision until it towered above me so that I had to strain my neck to see whole of it. I saw holes in the side of the structures that must have been windows once. The tallest building in the capitol was maybe ten levels tall at the parapets, but these ruins were taller still. Maybe twelve or fifteen levels, I couldn’t tell. And that was only the parts which still stood! The rest of the buildings had fallen in on themselves. Mediclus barked at me to keep up and I hastened to match Panamue’s pace. In the center of the ruined complex near some trees growing out of the stone, Captain Doussen and a dozen or so guardsmen stood with Fontis Gelt looking over the ruins. Twell Fili was there as well, though he didn’t seem to care much about the amazing sights around him.

“We have arrived, Sir Gelt,” said Panamue, who was positively beaming.

“Archon, I did not think we would need your services so soon but fortune has smiled on us today,” said Fontis. Captain Doussen frowned.

“Fortune saw fit to take five of our men this morning,” he said.

“Yes,” Fontis said, more subdued now. “Five excellent men. Men whose sacrifices will not be in vain, for this discovery will do much to aid our colonizing effort. The gold from the find alone will be worth it, but the reputation, that is what will define our colony.”

“We lose any more to this place and the reputation will be that we are cursed,” said Twell. Fontis snorted at the guide but made no reply.

“Lead the Archon to the find. I don’t want to linger too long here,” Fontis said to the captain.

Doussen led Panamue, Mediclus and I to a ruin off in the corner of the complex. It was the smallest of the ruins, but also the most intact. A small tent and a few torches had been set up next to it, though with the sun rising they wouldn’t be needed for much longer. Doussen stopped at the mouth of the ruin and handed torches to the three of us.

“Watch your step,” Doussen said as he entered. “They liked to trap the floors.”

Immediately inside the ruin I realized how much bigger it was than it looked on the outside. There was rubble piled everywhere and it took us a while to navigate around the particularly difficult terrain near the center of the main chamber. Once we made it to the back of the chamber, Doussen pointed out a pile of objects stacked together and on top of each other. Pots, swords, furniture, and many other things besides. I swear to this day I heard Panamue yip with glee when he saw it.

“This is marvelous. So many intact artifacts, and if I’m not mistaken, most of these date back to the Norcis Dynasty. We must get to documenting right away!” he squealed.

“This is only what we have found so far in this place,” said Doussen.

“So far?” Panamue asked.

“My men are still investigating the chamber below us. They may bring more as the day wears on,” he said. He turned to leave, but I went to him and told him that I was sorry for the loss of his men. He gave me a look that I could not read and then left us to our work.

Hours passed. I do not remember exactly how long, but we ate twice and took breaks to relieve ourselves more than a few times. We were about halfway through cataloguing the artifacts, most of which were pretty mundane though Panamue drooled over every single piece and insisted that only he handle the delicate relics, when a guardsman approached us.

“Don’t interrupt my work unless you bring me more artifacts,” Panamue said sternly.

“Sir, we found something you may want to look at,” the guardsman said.

“Well then bring it here,” Panamue replied irately.

“No sir, it can’t be moved. You need to see this,” the guardsman said. Panamue’s irritation evaporated, replaced by curiosity.

“Come, scribes. We will return to this work later,” he said. I finished taking notes in my scriblet and followed everyone to the stairway that led below.

The room below was dark. Darker than any place I’d ever been. There was no sun down there but it wasn’t like the cellar at the Observatorium or the bunk rooms where learning scribes were kept. It was darker than all that. I could not explain how. It also felt damp, though again I could not explain how, every surface was quite dry and there was no water leaking from above. The guardsman led us through a narrow chamber and past a room filled with doors, but he kept moving forward. We reached another narrow chamber which became a hallway. He stopped at the end of the hall right before a doorway.

He looked at us and said, “Don’t step there.” He pointed to a particular section of the stone floor which I noticed in the dim torchlight looked different from the other parts of the stone floor. A pressure plate of some kind? And then I saw the blood, freshly spilt. “It’ll give you a nasty cut,” the guardsman said, humorlessly. We all stepped over it very cautiously.

We continued for a ways before we ended up in a small room or antechamber of some kind. There were inscriptions and pictograms carved onto every wall in the room. Several guardsmen and women were standing around, looking at a particular spot on the wall on the far side of the room. I noticed one of them had bandages on his face, soaked with red. Panamue approached carefully. I was distracted by the odd pictures and words, taking it all in, when I heard Panamue gasp.

“What is it?” Mediclus asked.

“This symbol. I recognize it,” Panamue said.

“From where?” Mediclus asked.

“I don’t quite remember. I’ll have to consult my books,” he said.

“You look worried. Is everything all right?” Mediclus asked.

“Of course. Yes, everything is fine. It’s just that this symbol is very familiar. Very foreboding. I know I’ve seen it in history books in reference to something ancient and terrible. A great calamity or a warning of something yet to come,” Panamue mused. The guardsmen began to shift nervously. “Oh calm down. This ruin has been here for an age. There is nothing for us to fear here.”

“’Cept for the traps,” said one guardsman. The others murmured agreement.

I went to get a closer look at the symbol. It was unremarkable at first. But slowly, recognition dawned on me. I too had seen this symbol before, though I could not remember where. The symbol itself was rather innocuous, a circle with a line bisecting it and the line crossed on the top and bottom by two other lines. My mind strained to remember. I had seen it as a youth, in scribe school. A teacher had shown it to me. A book written long before the Auric people walked the earth. What had my teacher said about it?

“Do you recognize it?” Mediclus asked me.

“I don’t know. I saw it long ago. I can’t remember who had shown it to me, but I remember it was a teacher at scribe school. I remember a book. An old book,” I said.

“Yes?” Panamue asked.

“That’s all. Sorry,” I murmured.

“Well, you’re useless then aren’t you?” said Panamue, disappointed.

“What shall we do about this?” Mediclus asked.

“You and your apprentice will stay here and transcribe every inch of this room. I shall return with some books. I won’t be long. Don’t touch anything,” said Panamue.

Panamue left us then. One of the guards stayed with us while we started the arduous process of transcribing the glyphs and pictograms that covered the walls. I don’t remember the guards face very well, or his name; Telador I think, but I remember speaking with him a few times while Mediclus and I took breaks from our work. I asked him what he thought about this foreboding room with its symbols and pictures. He told me he didn’t know as he didn’t have the head for any of it and besides he was illiterate. I was surprised and asked him why. He looked at me with an entertained grin and said that he never had to learn. I asked him if he ever tried learning or if he even wanted to learn and he told me that he’d rather not.

“Writin’ takes yer memory,” he said.

“How so?” I asked.

“When you put yer thoughts on paper, that’s where they stay. My mind is sharp and my memory great because I don’ write anything down. The thoughts stay in my head,” he said.

“But how do you get by in the world? If you had to get to a certain place you wouldn’t be able to read the signs and you’d get lost,” I said.

“I don’ need no signs to tell me where to go. If I need to find a place I ask someone. If I need to find it again, I remember. That is all,” said Telador. I’m pretty sure that was his name.

I was baffled by this guardsman’s view on literacy. I had centered my whole life on literacy. I was a scribe for Nushwen’s sake! I don’t know why but it angered me. It offended me. But before I could say anymore Mediclus decided we’d had enough of a break and told me to get back to work. I’m not sure how long I was down there because there was no sun in that room. All I know is that when a few guardsmen came to fetch us, the sun had already started to hide behind the tree line to the west. My eyes burned as they adjusted to the bright outside. I overheard a sergeant of the guard saying that another intact ruin had yielded more artifacts and I realized that we might spend several more days in this place. I enjoyed the idea of exploring ruins, but cataloguing all of those artifacts was mind numbing in the extreme. Add to that the strain it put on my eyes sitting in the near dark and it amounted to torture.

I slept fitfully that night. I kept seeing the symbol from the ruin in my dreams. It hovered over me, taunting me. I knew it was alive and was aware of me but I was so scared I didn’t so much as move or speak in my dream. The next day we had another round of transcribing in the room full of symbols. Panamue had his books and he was searching for the symbol and its meaning but it continued to elude him. He would occasionally mutter that he would catch it soon as if it were some rabbit that hopped just outside his reach.

Night came again, and we were almost done with that infernal room. Fontis wanted us to focus on the artifacts so he forbade anymore documenting of the rooms until the artifacts were done being sorted. Panamue agreed, much to his chagrin. By the time I settled into my bed roll my mind and my eyes were weary from copying so many symbols down on paper. And yet it was still that one particular symbol that kept cropping up. The one from my boyhood. I was on the verge of remembering where I had seen the symbol when a shout awoke me.

It was still very dark but someone was shouting and someone else was screaming. I got up quickly and along with Mediclus and Panamue went to see what the commotion was about. When we arrived at the grisly scene I almost fainted from the sight. Someone had been killed. Worse, their body had been mangled beyond recognition. Captain Doussen was talking to a guard, the one who’d seen the attack but the guard just sat on the ground shaking.

“What happened here, guardsman? Damn it answer me!” the Captain bellowed.

“They took his face,” said the guard finally.

“What?” the captain asked.

“They took his face!” the guard screamed. Several other guardsmen had to restrain the poor soul when he got up to run away.

“This doesn’t bode well for us. We should return to the caravan and rejoin the rest of the colonists with whatever loot we can carry,” said Fontis.

“We should not take anything with us. This place is obviously cursed,” said Captain Doussen.

“A curse didn’t do that, captain. We’re not alone here,” said Fontis.

“Local tribe, probably. Good central location, close to the ancient road and the deer paths, makes for good hunting,” said Twell.

“Headhunters. Just what this trip needed,” said Fontis under his breath.

“This was no ordinary thing. This plaza is massive. Even in the dark there’s no way someone could have done this and escaped into the night before we got here. There’s nowhere to hide,” said Doussen.

“Load the horses up with as much as they can carry. We’re not leaving here empty handed,” commanded Fontis Gelt with the air of supreme authority his family was famous for. Doussen wanted to argue, but there was no use in it.

In a very short time the camp site had been cleared and the horses and carts had been loaded up with as much as could be carried. The captain did a quick head count and then we were off. As we passed beneath the gates of the ruined complex, I heard the sounds of something behind us, growing louder in the night. Growing closer.

Author's Note

Now with part 2. Part 3 in the works!