[wickedwinternick]

You decided to read the torn cloth, the writing on it, hastily written, and likely from blood.

The Slaughter

Run for your life, for the end is nigh
Look to your comrades, and say goodbye
For in my spilt blood I write
Felled by an ungodly monster's might
This is the end of all that I know
The ground painted red, covered in sorrow
A slaughter fit for none other then a god of war
Blood spilling higher and higher, blood shall soar
The dark beast is calling
Such a scene is far too appalling
Behind him are the wicked, others of the slaughter
One man of lightning, mocking the dying with his banter
A short horned demon
Killing every one, every man
Another with their red dress and hood, matching the scarlet upon the ground
As their slaughter continues, the field begins to go silent, no sound
Blood, and blood, and more blood flows
Corpses upon corpses, left for the crows
These are my final words, I'm afraid
Upon this ground, I hath been slayed

Written by a bandit leader, found in Gold among many corpses.