The Unfated Wanderers Canto 32
Tattered Shatterbone, battered by blended Realms, the violated village whose homes had been destroyed, had no greeting for the Unfated Wanderers. Missing roofs, crumbling walls, not a single building was unharmed. Tong’s hall still stood, though its roof had been hastily replaced and not well. Rose Thistlethorn sat on a step just outside of the hall door. Billet and Vilerend sat down with her to rest their feet a moment before seeking Tong Shatterbone. They inquired about the destruction.
Rose said, “The other day, when the sky turned purple, an invisible force swept through town, knocking down buildings. Enormous wounds appeared on people that were walking down the street. We moved all of the dead to the catacomb and all of the living to Tong’s hall. There is something terribly wrong in Shatterbone. I will let Tong tell you about it. He handled this situation poorly from the start. I do not know what I would have done differently, so I will let him explain. I am just so lost now.”
Vilerend and Billet entered the hall of the king of Shatterbone. The space was crowded with the living, the wounded and the dying. Tong despondently sat upon his dais. He smiled slightly as his friends entered the hall. He waved them forward and they joined him. The wanderers told their tale from the Inverted Tower, wherein the Realms blended and they met the Lord of Terror. They explained that the other Scholars were worried about him since their messages have gone unanswered.
Tong said, “I was burdened by care for my people. This catastrophe has ruined us. I finally replied to my Scholars two days ago. Or maybe it was yesterday? I am not sure when. You were still on your way here when I sent it.”
Tong continued, “Something terrifying and amazing has happened. The day after you met the Child God, the village was attacked by a horde of walking skeletons. We had a difficult time fighting them. We were very close to being overwhelmed. But then a new god came and saved us. He killed the skeletons and cured our wounds.”
“We cannot see him but we can hear him and feel his presence. He comes to the village every morning and demands a sacrifice. We pay this price so that he protects us from roving monsters.”
“The first day, he demanded alcohol. The next day it was a goat. He has been asking for more and more sacrifices. We are running low on food and drink. I advised him of this and he is now demanding something that we have in plenty.”
“We are to sacrifice a person to him tomorrow morning. I do not think that any god that desires human sacrifice is worth worshipping. His name is Myrwungebinyd. When he demanded a human sacrifice, I refused at first. He grew angry and threatened to abandon us and to allow the monsters to return. Can you do anything to help us?”