Chapter 620: An Elf's Tale, Part 27

Wilvur gently pulled one of the sturdy metal handles affixed to the parish doors, and the muffled crunch of thin ice broke within his grip as the sealed entrance began to slowly part open with the groaning shudder of wood. 

"Oh, terrible… terrible… '' Wilvur whispered somberly as the dying flutter of a mantle landed by his feet. 

The lifeless body of a priestess had greeted them, limply falling beneath the cold, hard stone of the doorway, a large bloody rip in her white robes splattering a pool of crimson across the ground… the look of fear permanently etched into her unseeing stare. 

"I suspect we'll find more of her congregation the further delve deeper within," Wilvur said grimly, stepping over the body and entering the parish. "Keep alert," He then spoke in another hushed whisper. "If Remelda means to kill me, then her greatest opportunity lies in the element of surprise."