Dain moved first. Broadsword in his good hand, he walked forward. Revan followed without being asked.
From fifty meters the shapes were still unclear. At thirty, the first details came through: a helmet, a rifle barrel, a belt buckle gone green with age. By twenty meters, nothing was left to guess.
Bones. Hundreds of them.
Both sides of the rail were covered as far as the gray light reached. Skulls, ribcages and pieces of armor lay piled over each other, rusted weapons jutted out of the dirt at dead angles, and scraps of cloth had been bleached colorless by years of dead air.
Through the middle of it all, the rail ran on southeast into more of the same.
Strangest of all, there was no smell, but that made sense. These bodies had been lying here for years, so the stench of rot had faded long ago.
A dry, humorless smile touched his lips.
'At least the route has beautiful scenery.'
Behind the cart, one of the guards found his voice.
"What the hell happened here?"
