"Without a Shadow of a Doubt, Expecting Nothing in Return. The Life and Feats of Lord Axilar Trezbot."

Note · 50 gp · Weight 2

By Nurah Dendiwhar Nerosyan, Cruciform Cathedral Publishing House "Frowning, Lord Trezbot made a gesture for his people to halt. Everyone froze; no one dared to disobey his order, even one given with his eyes alone. Lord Trezbot loved to say that he could only win when his whip frightened his soldiers more than the demons' claws — and he succeeded like no other in enforcing discipline. The lord approached what we took for a scarecrow from afar, left in the middle of the wasteland by an unknown farmer. Pricking it with his sword, the lord made us a sign to approach. It was the body of a young crusader — a boy, not twenty years old. Horribly broken, disemboweled, with shards of bone sticking out and shreds of skin dangling in the wind. Horror watched us from the stake, eye sockets filled with worms. A contemptuous smirk crossed the lord's face. 'Coward.' He said through his teeth. 'Fled from the battle. The demons caught him and he surrendered without a fight. And here are his useless fellows!' The lord kicked an inconspicuous bump under his feet, and it rolled, revealing an open helmet's visor with greenish-gray mush inside, swarming with insects. We shivered and looked down, realizing the ground underneath our feet was a mix of shards of metal and pieces of flesh. 'Cowards.' The lord said again. 'Cowards and weaklings. They were doomed even before they approached the Worldwound. They should never have left their comfortable homes. What did they achieve? They delivered the demons a hot lunch, that's all. Let's go! While the slugs waste their useless lives, someone has to win this ridiculous war!' Without turning away, or heeding the disgusting crunching sound underneath his feet, he strode forward. We hurried after him, trying not to step on anything that was until recently a part of a someone's body."