[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Aw, what do we have we here? A bloody mess, if I'm any judge. Sic is going to be proper wroth, mark my words. He hates messes. Now how are we to sort this out?" Mansfield takes the leisure to sniff at more or less everything in smell.

A moment later, the click of hard heels on the cobbles announces Laurent, his cloak wrapped tight in front of him, concealing his weapons. He ignores the others and pauses to stare at the carcass.

"And what do they say? Speak of the Devil, and he doth appear. That was a proper rubbish shot, now wasn't it! What, did you blink? My money's on the blinking."

Laurent pays no mind to the dog, bending to examine the abominable creature more closely.