[EVENT] Something Evil this way Comes

[Pavetta]

p a v e t t a - - - Pavetta was the last to arrive. She treaded through the group slowly, hardly daring to breathe until at last she could hold it no longer at the sight of the scene.  Her breath unfurled slowly, like silver serpents in the cold, brisk air. She was no stranger to the gore and trauma of war; she had been a healer, after all, but somehow this was different. This was brutal. This was murder. This sort of thing just didn’t happen in fair Delumine, murder didn’t happen in fairy tales. She almost felt as though she had been transported back to the Rift, back to the abyss of darkness and monsters and angry gods. This felt familiar in a chilling way. She thought she had left that world behind, but somehow…it had followed her here to haunt Delumine. The voices rose and fell—pointed fingers and accusations. Fear and terror in the tremble of their voice, in their eyes. They too, were in disbelief and shock. Pavetta moved closer, careful not disturb any of the remains. Cloven prints and deep. Something big, something otherworldly, something hauntingly Rift-like. Pomona, go. Pomona was crouched on a tree limb nearby, hissing softly in disgust, slit pupil eyes savage and feral in the dim light. Her elegant wings unfurled and she took flight in the mist, searching for a trail, for a twig out of place, another track in the damp forest floor. There was talk of a hunting party, of deploying guards and escorting the king and his wife back to the castle.  Pavetta glanced towards Eulalie and Somnus and nodded in agreement. “I think a curfew would be wise. I have sent Pomona to scout ahead, but she is young and overeager. Can you spare Tabbris, Eulalie? And Alba, Somnus? They may find something we would otherwise miss, with their keen eyes and aerial view.” She turned back to the grisly scene before them. Something in her face changed, softened, cracked. “We must bury them,” Pavetta said quietly, her voice heavy and somber.  What is left of them, anyway. She recalled the pretty smile of the lovely female page, who often relayed messages during the fires of Delumine, but much to Pavetta’s shame, she could not remember her name. ( Sorry, this is short and horrible but just wanted to jump in! Will be more detailed and acknowledging of others in the next one! )   a pearl in pigshit, a diamond on the finger of a rotting corpse, creature in whom nothing, but nothing, remains of an elven woman ---