Book of The Dead

Trenan Ebert, leader of the Hooligans Slayer team and bronze ranked Hammerman, was not quite sure how to react to the scene in front of his eyes.

It could have been the skeleton with the snake bones dangling from his pelvis that had him so off-balance, but likely not. After all, he’d met Dove before, in a limited capacity. Perhaps it was the large gathering of heretical priests and their followers, openly praying to their three dreadful gods on the outskirts of the town. He’d never been overly devout, but such open disregard for the Divines still made him uncomfortable.

Or was it the massive number of Slayers, many of whom were silver rank, some even gold ranked, more than he’d ever seen in one place at one time? They’d arrived early in the morning and were still in the process of erecting a massive camp outside the town walls. It was organised chaos down there, with friendly and not so friendly bickering in equal measure as Slayers jockeyed for position amongst themselves, trying to get the best spots for themselves and their teammates.

Beside him, Brigette appeared to be going through the same emotions as he was, looking out at the scene with a complicated expression.

“I’ve never been to a Slayer keep,” she said. “Is this what it’s like inside? So many of us all gathered in one place?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “I’ve never been inside one either.”

That was it. The reason he felt so odd. He was used to being a minority, with only a few others who shared his purpose nearby. Going from that, to suddenly being surrounded by people who, more or less, understood him and his work was… odd, yet comforting.

Ortan approached from behind them and Trenan turned to greet him.

“Leadership wants to see you,” the large man stated.