<div align="center"><strong>GM Post</strong></div><br/>Francis was able to address Melody's question, and his face showed a certain amount of doubt and concern. "The records place the Song of Demeter's last port of call as the Port of Saint Petersburg. The ship departed from there only seven days ago. We're still digging into the crew and ownership. Everything seems normal on that front so far - the crew are all mundanes without ties to the Shadow World, and the ship's owned by a shipping company with a fleet of vessels just like the Song of Demeter. I've tasked people to keep looking into this." The older Shadowhunter stated.<br/><br/>The deck was entirely absent of any activity save for that of the Shadowhunters. There was an eerie quiet as they explored with due caution. There were a total of seven open containers, and the interiors of those containers held roughly the same tableau. The containers had their interior walls decorated by murals made of scratches and flourishes of blood and ash. They depicted spots and dots of varying shapes, sizes, and arrangements, with no immediate recognizable pattern. Some of the spots were as small as pin pricks, and the largest was no larger than a penny. The blood was dried and a few days old. There were no signs of struggle within the containers themselves, and no blood on the floor.<br/><br/>The bridge was almost entirely abandoned. The instruments appeared to be in good working order, although the radio was turned off, along with any devices that were intended for outbound communications. At the wheel the captain of the vessel sat huddled, very still - to the point where on first investigation he seemed dead. The man had surely suffered from some form of privation and harm: his hands and face were covered with very severe burns. The skin was blackened and cracked, covered with scabs where the cracked skin bled and wept. Curiously, although his exposed flesh was covered in fourth degree burns, his clothing was unharmed and untouched. But there was the slightest rise and fall of the captain's chest as he drew hoarse breaths through an open mouth on closer or Rune-aided investigation.<br/><br/>The captain's eyes were utterly gone, and the sockets were filled with a dull blackness that was filled with tiny pinpricks of light - it was like looking at a miniature clear night sky located entirely within each recess. And upon his head there was a deliberately carved wound in the shape of a stylized sunburst. To look at it with normal vision simply caused in the Nephilim a sense of vague unease and distaste, but to look at it under the effects of the<em>Vision</em>Rune would induce intense nausea and palpable disgust.<br/><br/>There was a log book open beside the captain. One page showed notes in neat Cyrillic script on one page. The other was covered in chaotic, irregular Latin alphabet, repeating the same phrase, over and over: 'THE MORNINGLIGHT BURNS.'