Vol followed the point of his finger. Even without Harland, he could have simply traced the suspicious gazes of a few of his men, seeing a skeleton linger, with a raider's furs rotting off its bones, in a place where it was only goblins meant to be gathering.
As Vol watched, the skeleton edged gradually closer. No one tried to stop it, despite their suspicion, for it seemed clear that it was targeting Vol. Seeing what they had from him with his summoning, no one felt inclined to question him too heavily on it. In fact, the crowd parted to let it pass.
He eyed the shining greatsword in its hand as it came nearer. The rest of its equipment from the helmet on its head, to the bracers on its arm, were all rusted. All expect the sword, as though someone had handed it to the creature – or man, if one should still call it that – quite recently.
