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The sight of the spreadeagled corpse nearly overwhelms Lescurel, who looks a little sick and faint, though Skallagrim and Yazdegerd the Wizard appear undaunted by this macabre sight.
(Lescurel whispers)
-This... is-isn't even o-one person... but t-two halves j-joined together...
To the Barbarian's keen eye, which has witnessed the hunting and butchery of the carcass and bones of all manner of man and beast in the desolate wilds, the corpse indeed appears to be comprised of two halves, sawn vertically - a man and woman, crudely stitched and lashed together. Yet overall, the body appears well preserved, with a dessicated, withered look of the embalmed.
All internal organs are likely intact, though the flesh has wrinkled and shrunken in the sun becoming leathery and unrecognisable.
-Is it... a r-ritual, or a wa-warning?
The clammy, frightened face of Lescurel stutters hesitantly.
-A warning,
The Bird Masked Cantergloak speaks with a manner of grim recognition:
-Haukwode is a mercenary, and a ruthless one. He led a marauding band of men beneath the Banner of the Stranded Sons, who killed and pillaged in the name of some great wyrm leviathan named Lotan. They believed this wyrm Lotan would come to encircle the Earth and devoured its own tail, though I am not sure what Haukwode himself believed. Perhaps it was just some serpent-cult myth to inspire savagery amongst his followers.
The Bird Mask Stranger adds bitterly, gesturing at the hanging corpse halves:
-We should cut... them down. The stony earth of this mountain path is far too unyielding for a burial, but at least wrap them in a shroud or something. At the very least, it is not a fitting sight for other travellers.
