The Fall of Abelestran Bluesummers, Part 1

One foot in front of the other; this was the most important thing to keep in mind. If he did not keep moving he would be left with no choice but to face what had happened to his caravan. The images of carnage and destruction were burned clearly into his mind.

Families were slaughtered, torn apart like pieces of meat thrown to dogs. One unfortunate soul looked as if it had been smeared across fifty meters of rock. There wasn't much in the line of gore that indicated who it might have been, but there were enough scattered fragments of bone and what seemed to be either hair or fabric to tell that they hadn't survived. The most puzzling were the large splashes of blood on rock, dust, and sand with no bodies or remains of any kind nearby. He wasn't sure which was more troubling, the lack of remains, or the remains that were so easily identifiable. Abelestran had found the forearm and hand of thirteen year old Geneveve Truskani being picked at by vultures. She always wore a bracelet full of small metal charms that was given to her by Alehandro Belluskuro, a fourteen year old boy who fancied her. Alehandro's left arm had been found next to a ruined caravan wagon, his distinctive cord like tattoo still recognizable even though the end of the arm had been chewed up. In amongst some large shredded pieces of metal he found what resembled a torso dressed in the favorite outfit of the wagon master of the caravan, Bellasia Gerathurk. Abelestran had known four generations of Truskanis and Gerathruks, and five generations of Belluskuros. To have entire family lines wiped out in such a violent manner was simply grotesque. None were spared. Not the elderly nor the young.

The only wagon in the whole caravan that was left mostly undamaged was the one that Abelestran Bluesummers and his daughter Julianna inhabited. The wheels had been destroyed but nothing had been overturned inside. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be, though slightly jostled. Julianna's favorite teddy bear sat prominently displayed in the middle of Abelestran's bed. Its innards had been torn open, most of the stuffing pulled from its insides. The majority of the right half of it's face had been burnt away and it's left leg hung limply only attached to the body by the barest of threads. There was a note underneath the bear scrawled in a child's messy handwriting: "I love you Daddy."

Abelestran walked through the driving wind, one off-white gloved hand held his wide brimmed hat in place. He stalked the Wasteland a grim, resolute figure dressed in black. With the collar of his great coat turned up and the hat pulled down close to his eyes the magics resident in the clothing came to life shielding him from the blowing dust and sand. Abelestran could sense the beast far ahead of him, the gifts of the Great Defender allowed him to perceive it. He knew exactly where it was headed. It had sent a message that it was coming for him, but not until it had destroyed everything that he cared about first. It was headed for his eldest daughter, Evangelene, in the town of Volag Mines. Thankfully it seemed as if it had not discovered where she was yet, as it was veering off course. Abelestran's body was sustained by magics, he did not need food, and he would find no restful sleep, so he continued to walk on.