Captain Crimson, the Hero, and Dr. Wolf walk across the deserted Cremouth docks. The air is unnaturally still as they walk up the stairs onto the main street of Cremouth. The light scent of a smoky sweet incense lingers in the town, an echo that seems to mock the reality that is Cremouth today. The town is in shambles. Burnt out buildings are still smoldering, the roofs falling in. Bodies litter the sidewalks, numerous town guardsmen lie face down in the street. Dr. Wolf turns one of the bodies over to examine the wounds.
“This was a massacre,” murmurs Dr. Wolf.
“Aye, and the massacrer may still be nearby,” says Crimson in a hushed tone, “We need to stay quiet.”
“And split up,” chimes in the Hero quietly. The others look at him with questioning glances. The Hero continues, “We’ll be more low-key separate and we can cover more ground.”
Crimson nods his approval before slinking away through a back alley. Dr. Wolf moves to the opposite side of the street, looks back, and then steps into the derelict boarding house. The Hero walks into the old tavern. The tavern is empty, not a patron living or dead still inhabits the building. It’s obvious that whoever was here left in a hurry. Half full bottles of mead are still set on the tables, flaggons are turned over on both the tables and floors accompanied by half eaten meals. What would have been hearty meals to be delivered to customers has since become rat food, plates still sitting in the kitchen window. The floor and walls show signs of charring but it looks like the fire didn’t get too far out of hand here. There is structural damage around the building but the stairs remain passable and the ceiling is still mostly intact. A large hole allows the daylight to filter in. The Hero makes his way to the second floor and then uses the banner to climb into the rafters and then through the hole onto the roof.
The Hero creeps along the roofs of the mainstreet establishments. It’s desolation everywhere.
“What could have done this?” whispers the Hero to himself. Suddenly, the sound of metal clashing rings out from the far side of town.The Hero immediately scampers across the rooftops, making his way to the sound of battle.
The Roaster backs into his shop. After returning from the farm from across the island and finding his business and town destroyed he thought it was a bad enough day, but viking raiders still being here? Well that made the day worse. Two snarling raiders follow through the front door. One grips his small war hammer and buckler tightly, audibly growling at the Roaster. The other swings his sword in a show of intimidation.
The Roaster gulps and grips his rapier tightly.