As they neared the abandoned town the smell of death and decay became stronger and stronger. Prism constantly caught Emeryl's nose twitching, and made sure to point it out every time. Soon trails of bones and bodies were common place. It near disgusted Emeryl to the point of vomiting, but Alan and Prism were used running across deceased adventurers.
      "We must be close." Alan sighed.
      "This must be the people in that were in the caravan... Some of them must have stopped to see what was happening..." Prism answered.
      "So, you two might've been caught in this?" Emeryl asked. Prism gave Alan a wary glance, but neither replied.
      "Oh... my..." Prism halted in place, staring to the side.
      Leaning against a rotten tree stump was a corpse with nothing left but bones and a ripped up shirt.
      "What is it?" Emeryl asked.
      Without answering Prism kneeled down next to the bones and studied the shirt. In the center a hole was cut out of it, leaving a small oval. The rest looked as if it had once been a bright green, but now was covered in dirt and soot.
      "This... I know who this is." Prism whispered pensively.
      "Who is it?" Emeryl asked.
      Shocked, Prism climbed back to his feet, and eventually wandered back over to them.
      "I, I knew that he had to have died too... I just, always wanted to believe that he made it out somehow. His body isn't in the town... I'm sure he tried to stop this from happening, but someone that can convert an entire land mass has much more powerful magic than even I have." Prism thought aloud.
      "Who is he?" Emeryl asked Alan quietly.
      "He must be Prism's old teacher." Alan answered under his breath.
      "Oh, I'm sorry." Emeryl whispered to Prism.
      "It's ok, in a way I already knew. I just didn't want to see it." Prism breathed heavily, "Let's move on."