On the edge of a small town, from a hastily erected gallows, two bodies, dead for not more than a few hours, cast ominous shadows as they swung gently in the summer breeze. In the blood-red glow of the sinking sun, the black silhouettes of crows could be seen swooping and picking at the remains of the once powerfully framed men who now occupied the ropes. The gnarled wood from which the ropes were suspended creaked slightly as they swung, as if the gallows itself was softly breathing.