The ghouls snarled and snapped in the chapel They crawled, making trails through the snow, tossing around limbs The breeze smelled of rotting flesh, carried by wind so cold it stabbed at the skin. Sixteen souls had been taken, snatched away from the Crusader camp. Carried away in the dark To be given to the ghouls as they snarled and snapped Laughing and dancing like children as the poor souls were dropped Into the waiting hands of former allies, their claws dug deep Some left alive, others put to their places whether young or old Tied to gravestones, hung from rusted hooks shoved in deep Not one would willingly turn, but to this the ghouls laughed with glee. Join us, the dead whispered. Or die. They spoke in gentle tones, even as they flayed former friends to the bone ‘Your friends will not save you’ but their lies were proven false that night As their Commander charged into the chapel Freeing them all To those in Nerosyan, it was another day all but done When the Commander’s message came in. They clapped and cheered. Pleased the commander turned the tides. No demon, no ghoul, could defeat their Commander. But no rumours or news told of the Commander’s rueful laugh after the chapel was cleansed. Or the wounds left behind. Of those fallen crusaders they took note. A footnote, a line of text were what became of the dead at the chapel And since those in Nerosyan were not dead, they turned towards their own affairs. Eagerly awaiting the next bright heroic tale to come their way. -Yunessa
