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[Marcus Stanim]

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There had to be at least a dozen of them. Gypsies. Filth. He grabbed each of them by their neck, and asked them. Over and over...

"Where is he?!"

...But they all responded in kind.

"I don't even know who you are talking about!!"

They didn't, and Marcus knew this. But that didn't stop him from crushing their windpipe with his bare hands, just to hear the final gasp of air escape from their mouth. Ahhh yes, the sound of bones breaking and lives shattering.

Their bodies now littered the south end of Minoc, Felucca. But was this enough?

Marcus had to send a message. He had to be sure the message got delivered. He took out a small carving knife, and began etching messages on the foreheads of all his victims. Four separate messages, twelve bodies.

WHERE ARE YOU

YOU CANT HIDE

I WILL FIND YOU

I HAVE RETURNED

Blood dripped from every letter down the victim's face. Pieces of flesh hanging off each curve in each letter.

This, still, was not enough. The message needed to be stronger. Marcus undressed all of the victims in the gypsy camp and dragged them to one big pile. He heaved them, one on top of the other, until there was a small pile of naked, slaughtered gypsies.

"This message will do..." Marcus thought to himself.

[Doireann]

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Doireann had finished writing her report up, her mind still holding the horror the poor Esther had endured. Five trolls attacking a tailor; it was a wonder she survived. She let down the pencil, and the back of her neck began to tingle.

She glanced over in the direction Minoc lay, and frowned. She didn't feel right, even though she had seen no one when she ran by. With a quick Sanctum Viatas, she landed in Minoc. Theere was a stench in the air, coming from the south where the gypsy camp laid. She pulled her dragon's rein's towards the camp and gasped, seeing the pile of death.

She quickly dismounted, her sword in hand, and walked slowly over. She stared at each body and swore, seeing the writing. She ran into each tent, sword at ready, and searched each tent thoroughtly. the gypsies within protested, but Dory wasn't caring. She just kept looking, but found nothing. With a frustated growl, she ran out, and mounted her dragon, heading off to the Northland Headquarters for help, her mind still running through the words on the body.