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Her aunt said she said somethin' about taking charge of her own life, an' not bein' a burden. Said she was gonna make it on her own. I figure she'll be back in a few days - 'course, she'll always be welcome - but I'm gonna move into the village, here, get a room at the inn. Too many memories.

With that, the old man slugs down his ale, and heads to the bar for the next one.

Once interest is expressed in the remains of the great monster - the story gets told.

I was one of the bunch that volunteered ta clean that mess up, but, truth be told, by the time we had shovels in our hands, there weren't nothin' left but a giant stain on the ground, where all the plants done died, and some nasty ichor, what settled into the dirt even as we tried scraping it off. There ain't much to see.

With that, farmer Gotson drinks, a weary expression on his face.

By the by, I'm sellin' the farm. What with only me and Miriam left, I just can't keep up with the duties - and she's done run off, too. She's a good girl, but she's always been prone ta doin' a bit of wanderin'.

Farmer Gotson raises the mug again, but stops halfway.

I really wanna thank you fine folk again. Without your help, she wouldn't even be anywhere, anymore, except a hole in the ground, upslope.

Farmer Gotson follows a number of the party out the door, Miriam trailing him.

What is it? Everything ok?

Farmer Gotson listens to Reiko solemnly, nods, and then remarks... You make sure you're ready when you go, son. There have already been too many deaths of those that could've done good with their lives. That place is half underwater, you know, and nobody even gets close to it, anymore.

Farmer Gotson looks up at Liandoli....I do want the priest...he's known 'em a long time...but...if you'd say something...for the spirits...I'd be honored.

If it's possible...the sturdy older man looks like he's about to break down...I'd like to bury them this afternoon. It's a beautiful day...I know the priest is here, but he'll be busy...all day tomorrow...and the next, with the ceremony...I can't just leave 'em around...the good farmer collapses for a moment, sobbing...

If...if you could...just all stay...long enough for...a simple ceremony...up on the slope...

Farmer Gotson looks around at you all, hopeful.

Well...we can detour to the lake...

Once the wagon and cart are loaded, the farmer hitches his mules up and invites you all to ride back...I'll drive one...someone else will have ta take t'other.

Not long after he rests his sons in the cart next to his wife, Farmer Gotson comes out to those still around. I've done cleaned the house as good as I can. I can't sleep in there...I'll sleep on the back porch. Feel free to sleep anywhere you might be comfortable...oh...and eat all the stew and bread. No sense in it goin' bad. I got no stomach for it, myself. We can take the cart and wagon into town in the morning.

With that, he heads to the back porch to unroll a bedroll, and sit.

As Antonio starts to drag prisoners, Farmer Gotson steps out of the house...Use the wagon. I've got a little donkey cart, but it's big enough for my kin...the farmer has to stop for a moment...he points toward the barn...the wagon can haul 'em all...just throw the live ones in with the dead. Don't deserve no better.

Thank you, son. I gotta get my boy's bodies...and my wife's...ready for burial...he breaks into tears, sobbing.

It's just something I gotta do. I appreciate yer help...but they just can't be left like this.

With that, Farmer Gotson lovingly lifts his wife's body...and carries her to a sheet he's spread out...he lays her gently on the sheet...kisses her forehead, and starts wrapping the body.

He looks up for a moment...I thank ya for yer help with my revenge.

I'm taking Miriam to her aunt's farm, down the road. We can't stay here. Not now. Come on, baby...I have a lot of work to do.

Farmer Gotson gently pulls his daughter away from the scene, and toward the road.

I'll be back soon. You're all welcome to...stay...it looks like there was stew in the pot...plenty of vegetables in the pantry...and storm cellar. I'll...clean up...when I get back.

Miriam looks pretty miserable...her father is doing his best to console her, but he's pretty miserable himself. He acknowledges your concern with a nod.

Mighty brave, what you did there, son...for my little girl...

Give him the same mercy he gave my Edie...

With that said, Farmer Gotson and Miriam both break out in sobs and hold each other tight.

Jerking his head up...Miriam! Baby are you hurt?

The farmer's voice is strained... tears streaking his face...

The light is dim, but there are burning oil lamps in the house.

Farmer Gotson rushes in...passing through the front room...looking into the kitchen brings a desperate wail...Evie! Not my Evie, too!

A woman lies sprawled on the kitchen floor, also butchered...her arms are stretched out toward the open back door...blood trails to her...and then out the back.

Miriam! Where's my little girl!

Gotson is frantic...looking back and forth...almost frothing at the mouth.

Though several of you are quick to act, nothing stops Farmer Gotson from getting to the door...everyone will see soon enough What inspires him to push through, regardless.

Henk! Daron! Oh, my god! What beast did this to you?

Just inside the front room...is carnage. One young man is lying face down in a pool of blood, his throat slit open...a slightly older boy has multiple wounds, and is eviscerated... his intestines on the floor, in front of him.

Evie!

Farmer Gotson is frantic, trying to get interesting the house to find his wife.

As you get close enough, the farmer points out his house, and the nearby barn. The house door is ajar...something that seems to bother Farmer Gotson...

Edie? You left the dag-blasted door open. Edie?

He starts moving faster when he hears no response...

Edie?

The Forest of Tiers? Too darn close. Maybe...two miles? Ya can see the edge of it...from the house.

Farmer Gordon looks up, concerned. Why?

Farmer Gotson leads the entourage up the north road...stopping for just a moment at the bridge to make sure all are present and accounted for.

Didn't expect such a crowd...such an...unusual crowd.

You wind farther north-northwest, pulling away from the lake as its shore curves more west. Some of you are used to the road past the brook that feeds the lake...Aya's family farm is maybe half a mile up...Antonio's, a mile or so farther. Farms cover the landscape, here, punctuated by copses of trees growing wild.

The above information can, of course, be shared...and a very good Knowledge: local might bring more...

Shape? Well...it's big at the bottom...real small at the top...looks like...flat sides around it. Didn't get too close.

He drinks deeply from the mug, and sighs.

Ah well, it's big...maybe...twice as tall as a man? An' it was just sittin' there. Don't think it's livin'... just sittin' there an' the ground all tore up around it.

The farmer shrugs and accepts a mug from Manton.

It's a stone thing. Looks like it come right up outta the ground. Got...weird markings...all over the sides. It ain't a natural thing. Could ya come look at it? Or maybe...I dunno...send some of the boys?

The farmer looks concerned, but not particularly flustered.

Late during lunch, a farmer walks in...Sheriff Perton? Sheriff? There's something strange just outstanding of my fields... Sheriff?