tw: for painfully technical sex talk
Wu Yun waves at the decomposing pile with a tired sigh. "Please o great featherless chicken, enlighten us."
Wan Mi is torn between her desire to bite back with a smart retort, and to prove how clever she is. In the end, being clever wins out. "I didn't get close enough at the inn to notice, but this smell is unmistakable. They were killed by a smiting weapon."
"What is that?" Asks Lan Tian, inspecting the pile of rotten gore closer, as if that might tell him something about the weapon that did it.
"It's a kind of weapon that only gods have, but they're only supposed to use it against other gods, demons, monsters and beasts. It disintegrates the body and removes the soul from the cycle of reincarnation. A mortal human would never be as powerful or dangerous as to require such a punishment."
