My new friends,
I'm en route to Travance for my second feast. Hopefully this raven makes it well before I do, as I believe I have gathered some information worth pondering. I've been taking my time in this travel, stopping along the way in as many villages and towns as I can, asking around for rumors. I decided, since undead appear to be a problem, to ask the local churches if they've noticed anything, and to poke around in some graveyards.
As it turns out, there's been a rumor floating among gravekeepers. I've been told the same story by quite a few of them now.
...
Apparently, somewhere across the Rift, there's a small hamlet that has been complete destroyed. As the story has been told to me, there was a Knight that lived in this hamlet, dedicating her life to keeping it safe during the Demon Wars. At one point, a priest showed up at the hamlet, begging for sanctuary, to which the good knight obliged. Months and months passed, and the Knight stood vigilant, easily cutting down the many demons that would beset the hamlet and it's people. Though, skilled as she was, the sheer number of demons that attacked allowed one or two to slip through now and again. The Knight did her best, until one day, a group of children were killed by undead that made it past her defenses.
Then, she was betrayed. The very priest she took in and protected began to spread rumors, that the good Knight herself was the one creating the demons, so she could swoop in and save the town, to earn their praise. This priest managed to whip the entire surrounding town into a fury against this Knight, save for one man, the town gravekeeper, who had always known the Knight to be kind and just, and most of all, able to overcome any obstacle on her will alone.
The town marched on the home of the Knight, and demanded justice. When there was no answer, a commoner, though no one is sure who exactly, threw the first torch at the thatched roof of the home. The Knight's abode erupted into flames, and she was burned alive inside.
The townsfolk stood in silence for hours, staring at what horror they had just committed. As the crowd began to dissipate, only two remained at the site of the murder... The priest, and the gravekeeper, who was hidden away in the shadows, watching the night's event unfold in hiding, mortified. The priest then began to change. He grew horns, sported a wicked grin, and in a flash of fire and brimstone, vanished. Only the gravekeeper was left, who went through the rubble, and found the Knight's corpse, so he could bury it.
Over the next few weeks, that same gravekeeper began to notice graves being overturned and robbed in the night, the fresher the better. Bodies went missing, possessions were stolen, until even the Knight's grave was dug up and emptied. A few evenings after, a creature, thought to be a golem made from pieces of the stolen bodies stitched together, appeared. Slow moving, and impossibly strong, it yelled out with the betrayed Knight's voice, no longer noble, but enraged, demanding vengeance for what had been done to her. The golem slaughtered every living being in that hamlet, and the village was destroyed, save for the single gravekeeper that never betrayed her.
...
I've heard this same story in different towns miles apart. If you ask me, there has to be some validity to it. I've written it down here as a culmination of all of the different versions I was told. Do with this what you will, and if you have any questions, the raven that delivered this to the Inn should be able to find me again.
Stay safe, everyone. We most certainly have monsters roaming about.
