Even the Krune seemed disturbed by the mass of entrails and organs nailed high to a tree, crowned with a pallid severed head, the eyes stitched shut and what appeared to be a rodent stuffed into the mouth, the tail hanging limply over the putrid red mass of gore beneath. Chalos had been spending more time alongside Jolm, who had now moved his retinue up the column to ride on the vanguard's heels, and the healer found himself developing a resistance to these horrific sculptures of dead flesh. This numbness disturbed him as much as the sculptures themselves. Jolm was making use of him, dredging his memory of myths and legends, especially pertaining to the golems. The lieutenant seemed convinced that they would encounter those creatures sooner or later. Chalos had also been pressed to tell all he knew about Riln magic, its focus on illusion and its lack of actual offensive power. As if to underline his trust in the healer's knowledge, after one particular discussion Jolm had ordered a scout to climb up to one of the grisly sign-posts and prod it to make sure it was real, and not some Riln trick.
