All the blood and tears in the world do not bring the reality of Fergus death so sharply into focus as when the priest takes his seat to the left of the driver.  For a moment Aarnr expects Fergus to climb up and take the reins ... but of course he does not, and it is left to the priest to slide over and do so himself.

While Aarnr has little skill in driving, and this is his first time without the young farmer staring over his shoulder and offering helpful advice (some of which he even heard over the grinding of his teeth and the frequent screams of abuse at the oxen, Bowbe, the ruts in the road, the trees and anything else that got in the way).  Yet Aarnr steers the cart with confidence ...

"A fine idea, Colwyn.  We shall tell stories, sing songs - well, Oswald will, and perhaps Erista - and remember our friends, fallen on this quest."  Her lips twist, and she fights against another bout of tears.  The loss seems to keep hitting home, over and over again; Eilieen wonders if it will ever stop.  "The Nameless One, and now Fergus.  And yes, Sir Galdean - we knew him a short time, but he was valiant."

The priestess bows her head, walking beside the wagon herself.  After a moment, she remembers her purpose and raises it up, scanning the looming undergrowth with bright, suspicious eyes.

She will not fail those in the cart, here; any ambush must perforce reach her unprepared friends through her.

"A fine idea." Arkan agreed with the others as he walked beside the cart. He had not known the burly farmer for long, but he had the heart of a warrior and had shielded them in battle. Had it not been for Fergus, any one of them could be dead in his stead. "We should see to a proper burial for him as well as for Sir Galdean."

His body was slightly shivering underneath his dark garments as the rush of battle faded, leaving him drained. The chill from the weather and his wet clothing also did not help, and Arkan was looking forward to a night by the fireplace, and a hot drink to sip on.

His mind could not help but wander to the ornate scroll case he had spotted in the bag, and he wondered what it contained. A map to long lost treasure, a note to a long dead lover, or perhaps the words to a forgotten spell? They would see once they got back to town, Arkan hoped.

The journey back to Bard's Gate is not a long one, and short as it is, it is without incident.  Only when they come within sight of the gate to they meet anybody else on the road.

There, before the walls of the city, wait a group of knights, clad in a style similar to Sir Galdean, and mounted on heavy horses.  As the group approaches, one of the knights points to the war horse tied to the back of the cart, and another, an older man, rides forward and raises his hand to halt the party.

"Hold, my friends.  I see that you lead the horse of a Justicar of Muir.  Are you, then, the allies Galdean spoke of when last he visited our hall?  Has our brother faced a deadly foe in your company, and fallen before it, as he vowed to do?"

At the back of the wagon, Ozzy pops up with his macabre trophy held up in both hands. " Sir Galdean stood against THIS!" he reaches up with one hand to tug on the dead lower lip as he adds with a false baritone, " And I lost my head trying to fight with him. He fought with honor and a strength greater than my own!"

Arkan sighed internally at Oswald's display with the giant's head. This really did not seem appropriate. So he spoke up to the older knight, "Well me good sirrah. Yes, Sir Galdean did face a monstrous foe, a giant of terrible stature, and was killed while fighting valiantly against it. We took vengeance on his behalf upon the creature."

Aarnr's eyes narrow as he sees the group of heavily armoured men in the distance, and he ensures his blade is ready ... yet when it turns out that the men are not guards at all, but fellows of the fallen Galdean, he relaxes somewhat, deeming they share the same sense of pride and loss as does he.

"Ye should know that one of ours also died fighting the giant," he informs them, managing not to swear or insult them in the process.  "His name was Fergus and he too fought bravely."

There is a murmur of approval from the other knights, a murmur which is stilled as the leader raises his hand and says, "'Tis good that he met a fate worthy of a true Justicar, and made recompense for his crimes.  Now he can face the Goddess without the burden of sin to weigh down his spirit, and take his place with her, in the Manse of Steel and Silver."

The man rides forward to examine the giant's head at closer range, "We thank you for your assistance, and for witnessing his redemption." and then he frowns as he notices that there are two bodies in the cart.  "At some cost to yourselves, it would appear."

The knight bows his head and whispers a brief prayer:

Muir, guide the spirit of this worthy stranger,
who has shown devotion to Your cause,
and protect it on its journey to its new home.
So be it.

"Now will we take possession of Galdean's body, and his other worldly possessions, and bear them back to our hall, where they will be interred with due ceremony, and his name will be added to the Roll of Sacrifice."

He beckons, and four of the knights dismount, handing the reins of their steeds to others, and they come forward to gently remove Galdean's body from the cart, and bear it away.  Others collect Galdean's horse, and his belongings.

It seems that their new, brief friend remained true to his beliefs.  Eilieen bows her head; she cannot fault a man who will go to glory with his god.  Who is she to decide the right of things?  That Zadastha would not approve is meaningless; here is a man who serves a different goddess in a different manner.

He has done his duty.

She steps forward to speak, her voice a clarion.  "Take him gently, and know he hesitated not at all.  An end as brave and forthright I have rarely seen.  Such a man may rub shoulders with any of the fallen."

Colwyn nods absently at the speeches and the thanks.  Then a word permeates his mind... crimes.  Galdean had apparently committed crimes that required him to sacrifice himself to make them right in the eyes of his god.

Which was all well and good, but what if making them right in the eyes of Muir didn't make them right in the eyes of his victims, or their families?  What if those people decided to claim some form of compensation from those who had been with him at the end of his life.

The rogue raises a hand, and clears his throat noisily.

"What crimes was 'e doin' what needed 'im ter be makin' it good with 'er upstairs?"

The question brings an embarrassed silence in response...

Arkan watched the knights carry their comrades body in respectful silence, and nodded approvingly at Eileen's words, honoring the old Justicar.

Colwyn's words though, elicited a grimace. The knights would not like that, and Arkan was about to speak up in defence of the dead Sir Galdean, but then caught his words before doing so. He had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. What sort of crimes would a Justicar consider atonement for, especially this late in life?

"You will have to excuse our comrade, he is the curious sort." Arkan said to the knights with a small smile. "I am sure Sir Galdean's penance was for not meeting his own high standards, or those of his Order." He added helpfully.

Aarnr is somewhat puzzled by this morbid preoccupation with Sir Galdean's crimes - did not the man singlehandledly engage the giant and died horribly but bravely ?  What else could be of import besides that ?

Of more concern is that 'interred', but the priest is now aware of the curious predilection of these people for something other than a proper pyre and can accept if not respect their beliefs.

"Is there a temple to Freya in this ... city ?" he asks with studied politeness, suspecting that Fergus might not be welcome at the Inn.

"His crimes... " the leader of the knights definitely looks embarrassed and nervous, but manages a smile of gratitude for Arkan, "He engaged in acts unbecoming of a Justicar of Muir.  But his atonement means that they are a thing that has been erased from the scroll of his life."

Colwyn does his best to conceal a sneer.  A man could spend his entire life murdering children and burning entire villages of elders to the ground.  And as long as he arranged to end his days by getting killed by some monster that he couldn't hope to fight, it would all be good.  It would be as if his crimes had never happened.  And it wouldn't matter that he had lied to those that he persuaded to help him with his quest, and didn't tell them his true reasons for wanting such a death.

The knight, however, doesn't appear to notice Colwyn's reaction, and nods to Aarnr, seemingly glad to change the subject, "Yes, the priestesses of Freya have a small temple just beyond the North Gate."

Thankfully, Aarnr himself has never done anything in his life that would be becoming to a Justicar, even by accident ... besides which, great deeds should be spoken of or sung about, loudly, not trapped in inky scratchings on fragile paper and then hidden away in a private library to be consumed by mould and age.

But since he's being polite, the priest refrains from informing the knights of this, smiling broadly and nodding his head in thanks, waiting to be sure nobody else wants to make Muir's finest even more uncomfortable before wrestling the cart and oxen to the North Gate (assuming these fops and dandies have located it to the actual north of the city, otherwise there's going to be words bandied and a tricky reversing manoevere in the near future).

While he is sure a dead Fergus won't get served at the tavern, he's looking forward to the reaction to the severed head of the giant - and even better that trophy is in Ozzie's charge so he can escape his ghostly grandmother's wrath !

Carrying Galdean's body, leading his horse, and with his other possessions in their... er... possession, the knights take their leave, heading back into the city to deal with the funerary arrangements for their brother in arms.

The bold adventurers also re-enter Bard's Gate, and with relatively few enquiries are soon making their way through the maze of streets and alleys, on their way to the North Gate.

Beyond the North Gate is an area of farm land, and in the centre of that stands a large wooden building surrounded by a simple fence - the temple of Freya - with several rows of grave markers to one side.  Oddly, though the markers are present, they seem to be too closely spaced for there to be actual graves beneath them.

As the cart approaches, followed by the rest of the group, a woman working in a flower bed outside sees the strangers coming closer and hurries into the building.  A short while later she exits again, accompanied by four others.  All are dressed in clothing similar to that worn by Shandril, the priestess in Fairhill.  All of them stop at the gate in the fence and wait for the visitors to come closer.

Most of them are human, and of approximately middle age, but one stands before the others, an elderly halfling leaning on a walking stick...

"Acts unbecoming of a Justicar," Eilieen muses.  She doesn't know what those could be, but it certainly lays a shadow over Galdean's death.  It's probably best that the knights take him, now; she'd rather remember him as a man seeking an honest death in line with his beliefs, to better ensure the safety of others, than a man hurled by guilt and desperation into suicide.  "Better he seek restitution by attempt to make better his crimes," she muses. Whatever they happened to be, and if such betterment were possible.

Done now, though; there remains naught of him but his corpse, which the knights bear away.

So it falls upon the group to bring Fergus home, to what will be his body's final resting place.  Eilieen remains quiet for the short trip, lost in the rain of memories of her fallen friend.  She rouses herself as they arrive, looking upon the group before them and the Halfling in their lead.  With hurried steps, she sweeps out before the wagon, dropping to a knee a few paces from the women awaiting them.

"Hail to you, tenders of Freya's temple.  We bring the earthly form of one of her servants, slain in battle with a creature of evil."

Erista waves politely, and adds, "He was our friend.  His name is Fergus, from Fairhill."

For the sake of the memory of his fallen friend, Aarnr refrains from adding anything ...

Walking silently besides the others Arkan stops by the front of the wagon as Eileen goes forth and introduces them to Freya's flock.

"While a mighty warrior, he was a peaceful young man at heart. A grave under the sky, and surrounded with flowers and the blessing of his friends would suit him better in his rest than a warrior's dank tomb." Arkan added, glancing at the elderly halfling.

The halfling nods her head, her expression filled with sadness.

"We understand." she says, hobbling forward slowly.  "I am Velia, leader of this temple.  We shall give him a burial in the earth, where his remains can nourish the crops, and be returned to the bosom of Freya.  We will place a marker for him, with the others, so that his friends will have a place to pray for him,"  And she lifts her stick to indicate the other markers, close to the temple.  "for his grave will, itself, be unmarked.  This is our way."

She signals to the other clerics, who move forward, "We will take his body, and prepare it for burial.  We will choose a place for him, with the guidance of the Goddess, and at sunrise tomorrow you should return to attend his funeral.  All we ask, in return, is a donation to maintain the temple."

Colwyn ponders the priestesses words.  Another funeral at sunrise.  Don't these priests sleep?  But he refrains from saying anything of that sort.  Instead he bows his head, "Sunrise.  I's bein' sure as we'll all be comin' ter see 'im laid away.  An' we can be givin' a bit ter the temple fer the sake of our mate."

He looks towards the markers - there are quite a lot of them.  Does that mean that the fields, with crops growing in them, are filled with graves?

Velia closes her eyes and murmurs a short prayer as Fergus' body is carried past her and into the temple.  Then she turns her gaze back to Fergus' companions.

"The Goddess will take him to her heart, and he will find surcease from his toil.  Blessed shall he be, as he becomes part of the earth, and all that grows in it."

"Until tomorrow, farewell."

Erista nods solemnly. "We're happy to leave a donation in Fergus' memory," she says. "Thank you."  Stepping to the side, she nudges Ozzy with her elbow, and nods her head towards the donation bowl.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:06, Mon 24 Aug 2015.

Broken from his reverie, Ozzy whines at Erista, " Owwww, ...why you pokin' at me?" to which her subtle glance at the donation box answers his question. " Oh! Oh, oh yeah..." he says, pausing to do a moment of math. There had been eight of us which entitled him to an eight of their acquired loot. He cups his chin in one hand, an eyebrow arched as he seems to consider a passing cloud. Division and fractions were never one of his mental strengths. He begins pulling out stacks of gold coin, counting out a full two hundred and fifty to cover any funerary expenses incurred by the temple. " An' make sure he has lots of flowers." he says, pulling his purse string closed.

Aarnr almost warms to these mercenary priests.  Almost.  But at least they've an attitude he can respect.

And this, after all, was what his friend would have wanted ...

Once Ozzie has handed over an unfathomable number of those useless metal discs, Aarnr turns the Oxen about for the trip back into town.

"Let's find another Inn," he suggests.  Eilieen left a corpse on the doorstep of the first, while he didn't like the second at all.

"And if it comes up," the priest's tone suggests he's going to be froggin' annoyed if any creature ever has the temerity to slay him, "just throw me on a burning fire.  Ye should eat my heart first, of course ..."

Ozzy glances uncomfortably up at his blood brother. " Is that a metaphor? Cause if it isn't, I call dibs on the liver!" He had never even considered cannibalism until this moment, and Aarnr's offer had him now sizing him up like a side of beef. " Maybe we should stop for some breakfast soon?" he asks as his stomach growls audibly.