Last time, on Sarcantasy
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"We might as well check the bodies," Emma says. "See if there's any sign that this was more than just…" -- she glances at Isabeau -- "...more than just opportunistic cruelty."
"It'd be enough of a reason for my people," the High Elf says, shaking her head. "But yeah, let's check anyway." She glances at you. "Not to be a ghoul, but if these bodies still carry something useful, we might as well find out and bring it along. No good letting it lie here for the patrols to come and take away later."
"You're sure they'll return?" Delar asks, his eyes flashing with anger.
"They usually do," Isabeau confirms. "So we'd best move swiftish. Divide the field in quarters and everyone take one. When you're finished with your quarter, meet back up here and we move out. No dawdling."
Emma and Delar agree and set off to search the dead. You do the same, albeit with considerably less enthusiasm.
You go from sad, arrow-pierced body to body. In death, even the Punchbunnies look not like enemies, but like victims. Their faces betray no hostility, only pain and surprise -- which fits the fact that over two thirds of them were shot in the back. As far as you can tell, the 'Bunnies really were taken completely by surprise...
You find a few small items as you search.
Five pieces of gold, which look to be from various places; two 'Caymore Royals', two 'Kirchburger Values', and one 'Old Empire' coin -- which looks particularly ancient.
Two rings, one made of brass and with a piece of coloured glass in the setting, one made of pure iron.
Two pairs of boots, with buckled belts fixed onto them.
One oddly-shaped dagger.
One brass amulet, shaped like a hare's head.
You reach the end of your quadrant, and move closer to the underbrush to gasp a few breaths of clean air; the 'Bunnies' corpses may not have been here for long, but they are already starting to exude a faint, unpleasant smell due to the autumn sun. You close your eyes, breathing in the fresh, wholesome scent of green growing things...
... and hear the rustling in the bushes too late. Your eyes snap open, and you find yourself face-to-face with an equine creature with a brightly-coloured mane and a single horn projecting from its forehead. It's difficult to say which of you is more startled; certainly the equine is staring and blinking at you with a great deal of confusion.
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