[Ridge]
The city isn't empty, far from it actually. In fact, it's filled with bodies- cold dead ones.
That has to be one of the most chilling discoveries one can have. Piles upon piles of slaughtered men, women, and children. Once we got to the upper city the sickening smell of thick, iron rot burned our noses. I knew what'd we'd find from that agency alone, before we ever saw the mass graves.
If you can even call them that. By graves I mean large stacks of twisted limbs and bloated faces piled in the town square. Wagons have been pulled to the sides against the building to make room for the numerous clumps of corpses. It reminds me of raking leaves into piles during the cold season.
I think that comparison helped me deal with the sight, and the necessary examination that came next. We went around checking for signs of life among the unblinking faces. Some of them even had their eyes plucked out, another Nymour ritual revolving around their cultures devotion to technology and science.
Did they experiment on the bodies? Were they even just bodies when it happened? At least we know it was Nycia now. It is strange to me that they wouldn't hold Eldmiss, a major city of the Empire, if only to gain more momentum and morale for their side of the war. How long do they plan to sneak around and invade like rats? Will they go as long as they can without letting the vast majority of our people realize what's going on?
"This is disgusting, but at least we know where all the people went." Tristan says, lips curled in revulsion. She lightly kicks the leg of a corpse, it moves with the force of her foot and then falls limp and still again.
"Stop that." I snarl at her, covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve to block some of the odor.
She shrugs and shoves her hands in the pockets of her pants, walking back over to me. Everyone slowly starts reconvening around us.
"So... they just killed everyone and left?" Raforn asks nervously. Luckily with being a doctor, stuff like this doesn't get to him quite as much as it does for some of the newer Mercenaries and myself. He's still fidgeting like crazy though.
I guess being numb to blood and guts doesn't have an effect on how numb your sense of morality is. The brutality of the slaughter is getting to all of us.
"This isn't everyone." Stuart says. He looks green. His exterior made me think something like this would have no effect on him, but he's more squeamish than I originally thought. What a loser.
"What?" Raforn asks, face scrunching up in confusion.
Tristan offers more insight, "This isn't like the tiny town of Rancid, Doc. It's a giant city in the middle of a famous festival. This isn't even close to half of its population." She explains, pulling her toothy mask down again and puffing out her breath into the cold air like smoke rings.
"Shit." Raforn realizes the gravity of the situation, "So where are all the other people?"
"Maybe they ran away," Tristan offers, surprising me with her optimism, "and maybe the bodies of everyone who ran are scattered throughout the woods outside the city walls." Ah, there it is.
"But we walked through the woods to get here." Raforn argues in clear denial. Tears bless the corners of his eyes, his ears turning red in frustration.
"Shut up." I scold Tristan, reaching past the Mercenary holding me up to punch her in the arm, "Let's find some food."
Raforn whirls on me, "You don't mean to stay the night here do you!?"
"Why not? There are plenty of vacant rooms, and I can't do the journey back out to the boat tonight. Plus, I think we should dig a little deeper into what happened to the Fourth Order in the morning."
Tristan pauses, looking back at the piles again, "Shit, how do I keep missing this stuff?"
"Aren't they probably dead too?" Cony squeaks, lifting an eyebrow.
"None of the uniformed of armored bodies have the Ifeer crest." Tristan answers, shaking her head, disappointed I caught on first, "I don't know how you do it, Ridge."
"More importantly, we don't know how they did it." I correct, "We need to find either the Order, or proof that they're dead."