The bustling inn did little to muffle the cleaving of flesh, the shattering of armor, or the screams of death. Villagers rushed outside, only to find a horrendous scene of death and gore. Guards decapitated, cleaved in half, their innards splattered across the muddy ground. Some fainted, while others vomited. Little Lady had seen war before, but not to this extent.
"Who did this, what is this?", rushed the village's doctor to the scene.
"The two purgers are missing", said one villager.
"It must be them!", added another.
A mess broke out. Screaming and shouting filled the scene.
"This is not the time of pointing fingers. Come on! Let's clean this mess.", ordered the doctor with the loudest tone he could conjure.
The villagers do just that. They spent hours cleaning and picking up the remains of the guards of the faith. Exhausted, the villagers re-enter the inn to gather their strength while some head out to their homes. The doctor sat at the counter looking at Margery. She remained inside the inn, as she knew all too well who the perpetrator was.
"Deacon Andres is going to arrive soon, he will point the finger of blame at you", said the doctor.
"I am well aware of that Doctor Landon", she replied with a distant gaze.
"You did the right thing Margery, those men saved our village, slain the fearful incubus. We got our peace back, frail as it is. We had to tend to them, it was the least we could do."
"And thanks to our aid they orchestrated a massacre. The blood of those men is in our hands.". She stands up, tears in her eyes, "Why did I even aid them? Why did I not show any discomfort to the deacon when he asked about them? Was it the fragile hope of finding my father's back?
She backs away from the counter, eyes watering with tears. Her hand reached for the nearest cup then flung it hard into the wall, ale spraying like blood. "My greed caused me to rescue cold-blooded killers," she said through clenched teeth. "I am a killer as well."
Doctor Landon was left speechless, he could not mutter a single word. Margery was in a state of shock and grief. Her father's death got to her, but most importantly the false hope the purgers instilled in her. She did not care about the incubus, about the missing villagers, about Father Arno. All she wanted was her father back, even if it meant the demise of all of Little Lady. The two purgers misread her character perhaps. They were only a means to an end, and they failed to meet that end. Doctor Landon saw hints of her selfishness amidst all her pain and yet chose to remain silent. He then grabs her hand and gives her a fatherly hug. Margery buries her head into his pounding chest and keeps wailing rivers of tears. As she calms down, he sits next to her on the counter.
"Do not frail. When deacon Andres comes back, I'll talk him out of whatever he plans to do."
"Thank you doctor Landon", said Margery as she wiped the last of her tears.
"We are the honest small folk, and they are the murderers. The law and faith are on our sides."
The deacon finally arrives at his village. A gloomy tension filling the air. He enters the chapel, heads toward his private quarters and sits on his desk to unwind for a moment. His meeting with the constable put too much a pressure on his nerves. He needed to steel himself before questioning the purgers now resident in the sanctum's prison. Still oblivious to what has happened he calls his guards.
"Moriel! Gather three of your men and bring me the purgers, I wish to question them before handing them to the constable"
No answer. He calls again, "Moriel, present yourself at once! I am not repeating myself". Moriel, unfortunately, is not answering. Furious, he stands up and heads towards his troops' quarters. Empty as ever. He gets nervous and heads to the prison, but there is no sight of purgers there. He rushes out and heads to the Little Lady inn. On his way he notices blood remains. A strong horrid smell of flesh is poking his nose. He enters the inn slamming the door.
"Where are the damn purgers?"he screamed, his voice on the verge of cracking.
Margery and doctor Landon, are still sitting on the counter. Broken cups and spilled ale all around them.
"What in the hells has happened here?"Said the deacon with an angry tone.
"The purgers, as soon as they woke up, threatened to butcher kind Margery if she did not hand them the gold for their hunt."
"I did not have any", continued Margery, "I was frightened with their big swords staring at me, wanting to carve through my flesh. They started wreaking havoc inside the inn when they knew I had no gold to spare and then left. I closed my eyes through it all."
"Outside, your brave men confronted them. Sadly they could not contain them and then escaped into the woods.", added the doctor.
The heavy news struck down the deacon as he could not keep his balance and fell to the ground. He started panicking and trembling. He knew well what all of this meant.
"We are as good as dead", muttered the deacon, devastated, "Everyone in this bloody village, we are done for."
Margery and doctor Landon exchange confused looks. The doctor rushes out to him trying to help him stand back up on his feet.
"Dead? What is the meaning of all this Andres?"
"Capturing the purgers. Those were not my orders."
Margery walks towards the two men with a wary look. "Whose orders were they?"
"The bloody constable."
At this moment, they knew how big of a mess they were in. They just crossed the constable, the manifestation of Murdok's power and law. A minuscule lie, employed for the sake of a grieving young lady entangled them deep into this vortex. The deacon stands up and regains his composure.
"The beast's carcass, where is it?", he asked them.
"It's still there next to the well, nobody dared to move it.", answered the doctor.
"Good, good. At least there is that. Landon, gather the men and help me carry that lump of flesh into the cart."
"Was it one of the constable's orders?"
"Yes", adds the deacon sternly. Their situation is messed up, but not unsalvageable. They can still make amends.
Forty of the men's village went to the battlefield. They all stared at the dead incubus. Its skin was starting to rot. Its wings were broken and frail. Its once seductive figure and features are now a husk of what they were. Its tits melted away, its facial traits gone and decomposed. Its destroyed claws lay on the ground with the purgers' blood still tainted into them. Surprisingly, there was no foul smell. Only a radiant and unpleasant heat oozing from the body. They used as many covers and clothes as they could assemble, then with it, carried the beast to a cart. The deacon mounts his horse, leading the cart to Keep of the Hammer.
"Landon", he called for the doctor.
The doctor rushed towards him, with his hands still dirty and his breath almost gone from carrying the huge carcass.
"Yes Deacon"
"This might very well be my last journey to the Keep. If anything should happen to me, I want all of you to flee this cursed village not to be seen again. Leave Bloomheaven if you must. Head for Mooston, Murdok's grasp is not as tight as it is here".
"But Andres"
"Listen to me Landon, the constable is a mad man, he would absolutely send his troops to burn this village to the ground and massacre all of its people upon hearing my news", he pauses, "You are now in charge following my absence".
The deacon sets off as the cart is heading towards the Keep.