More than once he nearly ended up face first, an arm shifting, or his foot slipping on unidentifiable muck—he soldiered on, advancing until he was over the worst of it.
Once his team had joined them, they continued.
They moved at a creep—just as cautious as the first time they had moved through the tunnels. At first there was nothing, the cave empty.
Then they reached the lit warren, and the bodies strewn through its halls.
It started right by the entrance. Bogglings, by the dozen—surgically dismantled with a precision that left Kaius in shock. Clean cuts that separated heads, limbs and waists.
It only got worse the further in they entered. At first there were signs of struggle—weapons clutched in hands, the bodies having fallen in such a way that it made it obvious they were still struggling to fight out of the cave.
That changed quickly. More and more often boggarts and bogglings lay facing the wrong way—like they’d fled. Some had their legs cut off, trails of blood left on the stone as they had attempted to claw their way back to their den.
It shocked him—an impossibility. Whatever had done this had to be right behindthem when they were fleeing. But there'd been no sign, no tells. The only way the scene made sense was if something had been in the cave, unnoticed by both them and the bogglings, and had waited until they were in the middle of the mass to strike.
“Porkchop…” Kaius whispered, breaking the tense silence that had consumed them since they’d stumbled across the signs of battle that weren't their own. “Didn’t you mention that you felt like we were being watched?”
Porkchop’s ears flattened against his head—a soft whine escaping.
“I’d forgotten about that…I don’t sense it now though.”
“Yeah, me too—Obviously you weren’t imagining it.” he muttered back.
Rallying their spirits, they pushed on.
Reaching the crossroads, they slowed—giving Ianmus the opportunity to jump onto Porkchop’s back. Sundrenched vigour filled them both—steadying their bodies in a way that didn’t quite reach his nerves.
They hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the mysterious attacker—only the evidence of a desperate struggle that grew all the more fearful and gruesome, heading directly for the cavern in front.
Step by step they continued, tense and ready to flee at the sign of danger.
Kaius kept his Slip Step ready—half of the mind to activate one now.
The cave opened up.
Raw carnage rooted him to the spot. If their own battle had been a brutal siege, whatever had happened in the cavern was a wanton slaughter.
Bodies cleaved at the waist, halves tossed to the side with contempt. Limbs scattered like leaves, gathering in unrecognisable piles. Wardlights that were covered in so much blood they shone a pale red.
The bogglings hadn’t just been killed—they’d been annihilated. Kaius couldn’t even estimate the corpses, for not a single one was in a single piece—torn apart with a level of dedication that could only come from hate. No creature did this.
Only a thinking mind could be so intentional—so careful—in its savagery.
The dealer of this death was obvious.
For there was Ro, sitting on the warchief’s throne with her legs propped up on its corpse.
“Well, boys—how does failure taste?”