Yrsarald and Galmar dismounted as I walked up between their horses and received an eyeful of the reason for their halting. Though the snow and distance obscured the scene somewhat, I knew what I was looking at.
Bodies. Bodies and faint splotches of brown, dried blood, dusted with snow, dotted the white landscape and the loosely-paved snow-dusted road. Slowly, all of us advanced. I heard a metal weapon being drawn. Like-minded, Marcurio and I casted spells. I could tell from the muted glow of his palms that he had cast the exact magic I did – dead detection. White, dead. Blue or red, undead. Fortunately for everyone, I only saw white.
Chapter 23, “Hero by Choice”