Smoke, it was the first indication that things were bad at the guilds location (I mean they cooked stuff there, but no smoke from a cooking fire should be able to be spotted from that far away). I rode harder in that futile perhaps I can stop whats going on sort of way. In the end what had happend there was long over by the time I'd arrived. Even the local scavengers had moved on, all that remained were insects, charred picked over corpses and guilt. Much like you never forget your first horrific mutilation, you never forget your first loss of friends (and family in the case of Aunt Corli). I have to admit it took me a bit to take it all in. My first hour was spent walking around in a haze, sifting through the burned down ashes of where I'd lived for any sign of anything. It at least explained how I'd spent time in prison without anyone coming to check up on me (I'd figured they were just searching some place else, much to my chagrin).
From as best as I could tell the attack occured swiftly, judging from the fact sal and corli were located near to where they sleep. Probably hit at night, I didn't see any arrows, but in the wake of the location being burned down I didn't have much to go on at all (you can't really determine how someone died from their burned corpse, its one reason to burn a corpse). I had nothing at this point, after I was out of my haze I sifted through the ruins of where stuff should be and it was gone, all my money and supplies gone or burned up. Gear was similarly damaged or missing. All I had was my horse, my weapons, my summer clothes (an open chested robe, pants and flat shoes) and the small amount of coin I'd brought with me. Basically back to zero.
I'll admit there was a moment there where I laid down and wanted to die, just let whatever killed my family and friends to come back and take me, but then the anger came. Hot white and ready to watch everyone who participated in the attack to burn. With the anger came the logic, the attackers had to have come from somewhere and left from somewhere, I looked around for tracks (thankfully it was the dry season so no rain to wash away anything). I noticed the irregular foot prints immeadiately, they didn't look like horses or people, but enough of them it wasn't just a passing wild animal or scavenger. I had my horse by the bridle as I tracked them, I didn't exactly know what I was going to do other then kill everyone, but having a purpose at least kept the guilt and pain away, and in a moment like that, you need that above all else.
Its hard to write this story I'll admit, I had partially forgotten it over the years (time doesn't heal old wounds it just makes you forget where they are, except this scar on my left hand I'll be damned if that ever goes away, worst part I don't even remember where I got it, but I'm rambling). I've always been a darker kind of guy, the light is not my greatest ally, but what I did in the days following the murder of my aunt would stain me for a long time and really is one of the reasons I embrace necromancy. I don't want to ever face judgement for the things I've done.
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