Dušana stumbles step by step over to the bodies in tears. She knew many of these people. Most of them shunned her, but they were still fellow citizens of Sandpoint and she loved them no less. To be carved by goblins. She drops to her knees and sobs for a minute or two before her eyes invariably cannot move away from her mist-view of one of the town's patriarchs.

"The son," she hisses, coming from grief to anger. "Celiss, I have little magic left and I am wounded, but I shall not leave yet to follow you to vengeance."