The Price of Heroism
Subject: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
Sir Mattias listens to Rennik's speech with no expression. Rennik stops, looking at the big man with growing worry. Did he understand? Where Rennik's words wasted?
But a slow smile spreads across the knight's face, and he reaches one large hand out to Rennik. Rennik, not sure what this means, reaches out his own hand. Sir Mattias grips his forearm with a hand that nearly overlaps. Rennik finds himself returning the grip, because looking into the man's eyes, he sees no hint of subterfuge or deception.
"They say it takes a warrior to truly make war, and a warrior to truly make peace. I believe this is so, because a warrior may speak directly, where a man without the strength to back his words must use guile." He releases Renniks arm, "I hold you to your offer, Master Chorrdath. When the fight for Overlook is done, you will return here and teach me about your people." His voice takes on a darker tone, "But know that my voice is not the only one in council with the Duke. It may take much persuasion to undue the misunderstandings. Have you the heart for a long fight? By the look of you, I would say yes.
"In any event, I would like you and your companion, Melani (Rennik is impressed that the human says it May-lon-ee, as a Halfling would, and not Melony, as a human would. Clearly, this human listens and remembers) to accompany Garyth and the other soldiers to Overlook. This will do two things. First, they may need your council when facing off with these Murrkat you mention. You know them better than we. Secondly, it will get you out of the city for a while. I fear that this city will become unfriendly to your folk until we can straighten this matter out. Will you do that for me?"
Rennik nods.
"Fine then. Captain Garyth, report to Sir Darius before dawn tomorrow. Bring with you the halflings and the priest, Cadfael. Sunmaster Fellus has offered his services to us in the coming fight. A man of Pelor will be helpful when facing the unholy risen, and for healing those who fall on our side. We have clerics traveling with our companies, but the more the better."
There is a low cough, from the doorway, and a small elven man enters the hall. "Hello," he says. He smiles, uncertain, but bold. "Sir Mattias, I've changed my mind. I will join in the defense of Overlook. I would like to stay as close to this young captain," here he indicates Garyth, "as I can. If he'll have me."
The speaker is a young elven man, fair skin freckled by the sun, black hair bound up with a scarlet cord. He almost looks like an unruly boy, until you see his deep violet eyes. Like all his kin, they hint of things seen that other mortals may not share.
Mattias replies, "Pensive. What are you doing here? Why do you want to go with Garyth?" Pensive says only, "I was... looking for someone. But when I found him, he was not who I thought he was." The elf turns his violet eyes on Garyth. "I will go with the captain, because he is the eye of the storm. The Path moves through and with him.
Mattias turns back to the rest of the group, "Pay him no mind. He always talks like that. He showed up one day out of the blue offering to teach our men archery and hand fighting, and he turned out to be a master of both. Even if no one understands a bloody word he's saying."
Rennik bows slightly to the elf and says in elven, "Greetings, brother." Pensive smiles at him and says, "And greetings to you, my fierce forest cousin."
Not long after, Mattias and Pensive leave, with the elf promising to meet Garyth here in the dining hall before first light. The party heads up to their respective rooms. For the first time in what seems like years, they are able to slip into a hot bath and wash away the road. Even though the beds are the hard pallets of a soldier, they seem like the softest down to men who've slept on hard ground the last week. And almost before they are stretched out, sleep comes. If there are dreams of demons, and fire, and battle, then that is only to be expected.
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The following morning, half an hour before dawn, Garyth sits alone at a table in the dining hall, stuffing himself with as much food as possible. It is a soldier's habit, to eat heavily before moving out. Once on the road, one never knows when the next meal might come. He should be tired. He has traveled steadily for the last two weeks, and fought in several battles. He got only five hours sleep last night at best. But the truth is, he is filled with energy, nearly unable to sit still and finish his meal. The coming fight is what this is all really about. Tracking wereboars, rescuing babies, facing off the demon in his lair, they were all well and good. But a straight fight, on open ground, to protect one's home and family. That Garyth understood. That was why he had joined the guard in the first place. He could hardly wait.
Rennik and Melani soon join him. They too know the ways of the road and battle, and eat as much as they can stuff into their stomachs. Melani tears a large chunk off a loaf of fine ground bread, and pauses only long enough to say, "The humans feed their soldiers better than our chieftains would eat." Farron and Sa'id show up a few moments later, and sit down to breakfast. It is unclear whether they are joining the expedition to Overlook or not. But Farron has a look in his eye that says he might be going. Garyth recognizes it. He's seen it in him before, and it is a little frightening.
Sa'id stops eating and says, "Where are Mission and Cadfael? Did anyone go get them yet?" Garyth shakes his head, so Sa'id says, "I will go get Mission up. I know he will not want to come with us, but I would like to say goodbye to both of them before they leave. Can someone get Cadfael?" Garyth raises one hand to stop Sa'id while he finishes swallowing a bit of salted pork. "PAGE!" he yells at the top of his voice. Seconds later, a tousle haired boy speeds into the room. "Sir?"
"Go to the temple of Pelor. Tell the honorable priest Cadfael that we eagerly await his arrival. Go fast boy, the priest must be here before dawn, or I'll box your ears." The boy runs out of the room at top speed. Garyth notices the looks of those around the table. "What? I paid my dues as a page. You have to speak to them that way or they wander across half the city before deciding to do their errand."
A few moments later, Sa'id returns. "Mission is gone. His bed has not been slept in. Did he leave already? He couldn't have given us a chance to see Promise off?" Sa'id looks almost in tears.
Pensive shows up, and declines breakfast. He stands near the door, not tapping his foot, but looking impatient all the same. The group rises from the table and prepares to leave, Garyth cursing the page's slowness. Even as he gets on a roll in which he questions the boys species and the marital status of his parents at the same time, the page pops back into the room. "Speak boy. Where is the priest?"
"Sir, Sunmaster Fellus says he believes Cadfael stayed here at the keep last night. He never returned to the temple, and his room has not been opened."
This is disturbing news, both Mission and Cadfael missing. But the Under Marshall awaits, and the party moves to the Marshalling grounds without them. There, an army assembles from a mass of chaos. Garyth moves through it like he knows the lay of the land, so the rest of the group just follows him. He leads them to a patio where several men in heavy armor stand around a table. Garyth sees the Under Marshall, and Knight Commander Mattias in the group. "Captain Garyth Tel'Arden, reporting as ordered, sir."
Under Marshall Darius, a tall and slender man in glittering full plate, answers. "Welcome, captain. You and your companions are to join yourself to Commander Jonas, who is leading the Blood Falcon detachment. Go report to him now."
Garyth hesitates a moment, then says, "Sir, we were ordered to report along with the Priest, Cadfael. I regret to inform the Lord Marshall that Cadfael seems to be missing." Sir Darius gives Garyth a stare that frightens him. Sir Mattias interposes himself, and says, "Garyth, come with me." He pulls the young captain aside, and turns him over to a private standing nearby. "Fifteen minutes, Captain. You have fifteen minutes. Be back here by then. I'm sorry." Garyth starts to say, "Sorry?" But the Knight Commander is already moving away. The private grabs his sleeve, "Come with me, sir."
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Garyth finds that he can imagine Cadfael in many ways. He can see him as dark, and insane, and babbling dire prophecies. He can see him large, and dangerous, charging at an enemy with abandon when his friends are threatened. He can even be imagined as the man after the ring came off. Lighter, relieved, but still hiding a deep hurt.
But no matter how hard he tries, Garyth can not connect the still cold corpse lying on a slab in the magistrate's office with his friend. He looks at the others. Farron, Sa'id, Rennik. He sees the same disbelief in their eyes. This can't be right. Dying gloriously in battle, perhaps. Even taken whole into the heavens by his god. After the scene in the demon's temple, even that could be believed. But not this empty husk, hacked to pieces.
Garyth realizes the magistrate is speaking. "..found many cut wounds about the head and torso. But the wound that killed him was this deep stab in the chest. We haven't opened him, but it's clear that the knife reached his heart. After that, death would be quick. We found this," he holds up a long dagger made of black glass, "near the body. The body had fallen five feet when it was stuffed into the sewers, so we think the knife fell out of him then."
There is something terrible in the cold clinical speech of the magistrate. Cadfael was only a puzzle to be solved. The magistrate would do his best to track down the murderer, and for him that would end the issue. He could not see. This man, who had walked alone into the center of the temple of Kor Garesh. Who had faced down, alone, the demon in his pillar, the madwoman Elise, the lich Anileth. Who had carried the burden of an evil taint for years, just so he could save one child. He had been rendered down to this. A corpse, hacked up with gleeful abandon, stuffed into a sewer, and stretched out nude on a slab as a puzzle to be solved. Garyth looks into his dead face. There is nothing there. Nothing of the man he knew. It is a mask stretched over bone.
Behind Garyth, the private clears his throat and says, "Should be getting back now, sirs."
From: Mark
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
All I can say is Holy Shit.
Mark
From: Ty
Subject: The Pensive writeup for the archives
"What did you do?"
Mission hears the creak of a bowstring being pulled taut, and turns to see a Elven boy facing him, longbow bent into a crescent, arrowhead gleaming wickedly in the torchlight from the hall. The door leading out of
the hall is an arm-length away. Mission feels the distance keenly in the tips of his fingers, though he doesn't move. The elf stands a good ten feet away from him.
"What did you do?" the elf asks again, loud enough for his young voice to echo off the walls. His voice trembles, though the weapon in his hand does not. Steady as stone.
Mission recognizes the voice. "Put your bow down, Pensive."
The elf hisses, "Answer me, Mission, or I swear I'll pin you and that _thing_ in your arms. . . I swear it, Mission, Blood and Stone, I will."
Promise coos at the sound of the elf's voice echoing off stone and wood. One chubby, pink hand waves around in the air as if searching for something to hold onto-- Mission lowers his finger to the boy's hand. His voice is calm when he answers, rich and warm, "Pensive. The Kaishin has been born. The Stone will be broken, the Path swept clean with Blood. Now it turns. Now it bends. The Path is not straight, nor is it soft." Mission shakes his head, gulps a breath. He looks down for a second at his son, a little flash of annoyance in his eyes. Then back to the elf. "Don't be stupid, Pensive. This is the Kaishin."
The elf stands still and silent. Then the bow lowers, creaks into straightness. The arrow disappears with a flash of movement into a quiver hanging at the elf's side. But Pensive is as tense as ever, staring at Mission like he is weighing the monk with his eyes. "The Kaishin is yours?"
Mission nods. "Yes." His voice level and toneless.
"Here. . . now. . ." Pensive's voice still trembles, but with reverence. "And with you."
"Yes. With me." Mission's voice is sharp suddenly. "He is my son."
"Son." Pensive seems to roll the word around in his mouth, as if he is tasting it, trying to decide if he likes the idea. "The Path is not straight. . ."
Mission rolls his eyes and shrugs. "What are you doing here, Pensive?"
"Hope sent me to look after you."
"You've been doing a fine job of that, too."
"I'm sorry."
And he means it. Pensive offers no excuses, but his apology, all two words of it, is so deeply sincere, Mission turns his head away from the elf in embarassment. "We managed, anyway," he mutters.
"The Kaishin," Pensive says, urgently. "He must be taken away from here." The elf reaches out to put a hand on Mission's shoulder, but thinks better of it. "I feel a . . . Shadow, Mission. Something evil haunts this island."
"Yes, we've just come from its tea room."
The elvish boy grins then, suddenly. "I'd forgotten. . . you. How you are. A bit."
Mission shrugs. "I need to go, Pensive. My son needs a bath, and I could do with a washing myself. I'm as stiff as a stone, and I stink of the road and sweat, and horse. Will you come with us home? We'll be leaving first thing in the morning."
Something passes between them then, as sudden as a flight of birds lifting out of a tree. Pensive reaches out and touches Mission's face with long white fingers, following the line of his cheekbones with his thumb. It is the touch of a father, tracing his sleeping child's face. So incongruous, though-- the young elf, reaching up to the tall human. Mission is startled, but he doesn't move. Pensive is weeping, silently, as he traces down Mission's cheek, across his lips, up to his forehead.
"You are worthy," he says, and his hands drop to his side. "I never knew that before."
Mission, his eyes wide, turns away from the elf, and knocks the door open violently. He disappears into the night, Promise cooing and babbling at Pensive. The door bangs closed on a stray breeze.
Pensive unstrings his bow, wipes his nose on his sleeve, and steps into the torchlight, in view of the rest of the party that still remains in the hall. "Hello," he says. He smiles, uncertain, but bold. "Sir Mattias, I've changed my mind. I will join in the defense of Overlook. I would like to stay as close to this young captain," here he indicates Garyth, "as I can. If he'll have me."
******
Physical description: Pensive is a young elf, slender and graceful. He is an odd, dichotomous mix of boyishness and wisdom. His skin is fair, but his hands rough, and his face freckled from spending so much time in the sun. His black hair is bound up with a scarlet cord. He dresses in simple woolen breeches, a gray overshirt, and a vest. His eyes are deep violet and speak doubly of unashamed innocence and deep experience.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
Garyth stares at Cadfael, or what was left of him, anyway. Strange to feel the loss so sharply of a man that, in truth, he barely knew. It had been, what, ten, maybe twelve days since they first met? And yet, in such a short time, Garyth had seen so much of Cadfael. His feeling toward the priest had gone from the camaraderie of brothers in arms after the siege of Gully Patter's outpost to confusion and fear and later even something like hate after Cadfael had left him to be eaten by the swamp dragon. And in the end, when Cadfael had come back to himself, the bond of friendship had begun to return. All that is gone now.
His first impulse is to run out into the streets, to find his friend's killer, to crush, to rend, destroy. It is not just that a man who had done such a service to the world should meet his end like this, stabbed to death alone and in the dark. Someone must pay.
But even if he had the right, the authority, even if he had the *time*, would this be right? Would it be right to open himself to this bestial feeling? Would Cadfael even have wanted it? Garyth looks into the anger in his heart, and what he sees troubles him. This is not him.
It would be difficult to interpret the warring expressions on Garyth's face. Finally, though, he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, his features calming. He touches a hand to Cadfael's forehead and eyelids. "Rest in peace, my friend," he whispers. "May Pelor's warmth bring you solace." He takes a few steps back and bows his head.
When he looks up, he looks in turn at each of his companions. His gaze lingers briefly on each of them, as if to cement in his mind what they are now. But someone is missing. Garyth's blood runs cold. "Where is Mission?" he asks.
From: Mark
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
Melani stares at the dead body.
She barely knew this man. She sees that her companions are devastated by this. She feels some sorrow, but not the loss the other felt. She had only known the man for a few days He had seemed like a nice enough fellow, but a little sullen. Of course in these dark days that was to be expected. She had picked up from the others that he had been through a dark time in the last week but had come through it. He was the healer of the group and that concerned her. They would not have the graces of the healing spirits to call on.
The human with the child was also gone, maybe dead. If that was true, then her leaving her tribe was in vain.
She waits quietly for the others to finish, praying to the spirits of her ancestors to help the spirit of this man find his way.
Mark
From: Raja
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
"I have to stay."
The words are out of his mouth before Sa'id can even think. "And are certainly going to need to open him." He holds out his hand in the direction of the magistrate, expectant, without even looking up. A heartbeat passes before Sa'id realizes that the black glass dagger has not been placed in his hand. He glances at the magistrate. "M'it assif -- er, I'm sorry. I have forgotten my manners. May I examine the weapon, please?"
[Assuming the magistrate gives him the dagger.]
Sa'id holds the dagger up between him and the nearest light source, trying to determine if it is actually glass or some sort of other composite. He is careful not to cut himself on the blade. For the benefit of the magistrate, he says: "We have seen a weapon like this one before. Very recently. Used by one of the leaders of the army that now marches on Overlook. There is no reason to suspect that it was used by some other party to incriminate them; rather, I believe it was left to send us a message: 'we can kill you with impunity if we see fit.' They must have operatives here in Nesalin." He stops, takes a deep breath, and then nods at Garyth. "It is good that you are leaving. You would not be safe here. But I must stay, now." Sa'id looks over at Farron. "Go save your family," he says. "You know better than the others that this is my element. And I will visit the wizards' school, for both of us." What Sa'id leaves unsaid, but what Farron can hopefully read between the lines, is that the necromancer doesn't trust the magistrate -- or anyone else here in Nesalin, for that matter -- to pursue this investigation. For a number of reasons. And it was a perfect fit. A safe outlet for his frustrations, aligned perfectly with his own old talents and a distraction from his newer, darker desires.
Cadfael was dead. Were it not for the nature of his injuries Sa'id might have suspected suicide -- a gift from Pelor, even. In a twisted way, this new reason to remain in Nesalin might well prove to be Sa'id's salvation. Could Pelor's hand even work through the darkness of the soul drinker's minions? Was the sun god so subtle, to grant Cadfael the release he craved and, in the same stroke, pull Sa'id back from the brink of succumbing to his own murderous wants?
"I do not know your protocols here," he says to the magistrate, "but I am a qualified and competent investigator and mortician. My former teachers at the wizards' school here can confirm both of these things. Before coming to Nesalin I worked on my home isle, Ammur, as an assistant investigator with the office of the coroner in Haifa. In fact, it was my partner, the Aldon, who sent me in the direction of Huss and Nesalin to study magic further." He pauses. "If it is allowed by your protocols, I wish to take charge of this investigation, starting with the autopsy, as soon as possible."
From: Karl
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
A nice thanks for saving his son, Farron thinks to himself upon hearing that Mission is gone with Promise. But the thought is quickly forgotten as they are pulled away from the mess hall. He feels a dark foreboding as they are led into the magistrate's office. As he sees the horror of the broken and defiled body of the priest, he is surprised that he can even bear to look. Any revulsion he might feel under other circumstances is pushed out of his mind by a growing rage. He turns from the sight and buries his face in his hands, suppressing the urge to scream out the words that are boiling in his brain. Why?, he screams silently to Pelor. Why this treachery? Did he not serve you well enough? He does his task and is then discarded? Is this the thanks we can all look forward to for serving you? His back to the group, his shoulders tremble as he fights to keep the words un-uttered.
"I have to stay" he hears Sa'id declare, and that brings him back to the moment. He turns again to the group.
"Then I will stay with you," he says. "If there is evil within the city, you will need my help." He turns to Garyth. "If my family is alive, please tell them I am safe. I would go with you, but I believe I can be of more service here. Someone must stay and help Sa'id." Clearly Pelor isn't going to, he wants to add, but doesn't.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
OOC: Ha! First no cleric and now no magic-users. We are *toast*.
From: Scott
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
Pensive watches them all intently as they file after the private. The soldier, and the two mages and the male halfling all moved with-- kinship. Did they notice how they aligned themselves? The soldier in the front, the mages in the middle, and the two halflings behind, glancing around warily. Battle formation? These are not people who trust easily.
And that is why he walks to the side of them all, out of the line of their kinship.
Then the dead man. A priest, the magistrate had said. Or was it Garyth? Pensive watches them. Watches the kinship stretch and bend. Pensive found tears coming hotly to his eyes, but they were not for the dead man that he'd never known. This dead body represented. . . what? What did it mean to these four men?
What would it have meant to Mission?
Pensive does not know, though he feels like he should. He wipes his nose on his sleeve, wipes his silent tears away. He has seen the dead before, why does this affect him so? Because, this is butchery. This is the work of sand and shadow.
"Where is Mission?" Garyth croaks. His voice is full of pain and anger.
Pensive winces. "Mission is gone," the words escape his lips, and he shuts his mouth with a click of teeth. But his voice echoes in the room, embarrasingly tenor and young. There is no doubt that every one of them heard him.
He clears his throat. Motions toward the ocean. "He would have left as soon as he could."
And then falls silent to see if their kinship will bend toward him.
From: Matt
Subject: Re: The Butchers Bill; The Price of Heroism
Rennik listens to Mattias' words carefully to sense if he was being patronizing, or truly was giving him praise. With humans it is so difficult to tell.
When he asks if Rennik has the heart for a long fight, he responds.
"I will speak to as many as it takes until the humans understand that the tribes are not a threat to them."
This seems to satisfy the man, and he continues, pronouncing Melani's name as it was given minutes earlier. That was promising, if nothing else.
Rennik nods to the request to fight for Overlook's protection. It seems there were other reasons to get out of the city beyond sheer revulsion - reasons he hadn't considered. He had much to learn.
The elf Pensive was as mysterious as any of the elves, but still much more easily understood to Rennik than any of the humans living in the city. His bearing and stature alone offered some comfort, and Rennik made a point to ask him about Elbereth Gwendellion, the ranger who had taught him so much of what he would need to call upon in the coming days and weeks.
As they begin to retire to their chambers, Melani calls him over to privately speak.
"I must stay, Reth'tenn, as much as I wish to go and fight the enemies attacking our tribes. But it is not as simple as that... nothing is simple anymore. If I cannot convince the humans to trust us and not see us as enemies, our people cannot survive. They will be weak from fighting the undead, and fall before the humans. Or they will be so concerned with the humans that they will fall before the undead."
"It is your decision where your place is. The battle to come will be that of legend, a small force defending the hordes of the darkness. Those that killed your family are now marching to kill countless other families, including Friend Garyth's and Caller Farron's."
"Your curiosity about the human world, though, is dangerous. I travelled long outside the forest in the company of elves, and learned much of the island and some of the world. It is a far more dangerous and treacherous place than our home. Swamp dragons and H'ruggda may seem unpredictable, but they are as the rising and setting sun compared to the shifting emotions and allegiances of humans."
"Cities are corrupt and despoil the land, and the humans are a panicky race prone to violence. Taken one by one, they may be allies or even friends, but as a whole, they are dangerous and no fit company for a sensible halfling."
"Your decision is your own, but I fight alongside my friend Garyth and my other companions. I invite you to join us, but I understand if you feel your duty pulls you back to the forest."
Rennik retired to uneasy sleep, not comfortable in such a densely populated city, especially after Mattias' words. Humans had a tendency to turn on strangers, he had to remember. Especially with tensions so high. As he nodded off, he regretted that there was no time to repair his axe before battle.
***
The morning held food. Not rations, or cold meat, or small lizards and beetles of the jungle, but hot food. Rennik practically gorged himself, not knowing when his next full meal would come. He had learned to make the most of such opportunities - it seemed Melani was of the same mind.
The exchange between Garyth and the other human was lost on Rennik, concerned as he was with the constantly shifting surroundings. Humans were everywhere, and any of them could have prejudices toward halflings that might explode at any moment. They were not a rational race, or a particularly civilized one, and he kept on his toes - and made sure Melani did the same, though she needed little prodding. He was glad on some level that she chose to come along.
They were led into some human building and into a room. Even in the hall, Rennik could smell the stench of death, and his shoulder's tensed. He was uneasy - why were they here, and not preparing to leave? Why had they been brought to a house of death?
And then he saw Cadfael's body.
There was no reaction at first, as he did not recognize the man. But the clothes he was wearing, and something about the face triggered confusion and numbness. Rennik did not feel anything at first, not sure what was going on, and listened to the magistrate's words only with half an ear.
Cadfael, dead? But... but they had made it back to his home, to his people. This was where he would be safe. He was on his way back to his temple, to his god. How could.. how could he be dead?
As he looked at the black knife and heard more of the murder, his veins turned to ice. This was the subtle hand of the dark god, the corrupt and stealthy hand that could only work in a despoiled land like a human city. In nature, the evil had to be more overt, attacking directly or laying ambush. In the squalor of a human settlement, there was potential death around every corner, with no sense or order to it at all.
The dark god would have found no trouble enticing a human to perform such an act. A flicker of rage passed almost instantaneously across Rennik's face, but dissolved quickly into empty sadness. He had almost killed Cadfael only days before, when the dark god's influence had tunnelled into the priest's head like some parasite. But since Promise was saved, he had returned to the happy and casual man he remembered from the inn at Overlook.
And just as he was home, safe... this. If this is what happened to a human in this city, what had Rennik to expect? Mattias' words rang in his brain again.
In halfling, he gave a small prayer, hoping it would not offend Cadfael's sun god. "Mielikki, speed this human's spirit to his god and grant him the peace he could not find in this life."
The rage returned, unbridled, unfocused. He meant to kill the one who did this to Cadfael, to plunge his axe head deep into... but then the bottom fell out. Emptiness. Cadfael, dead, pawn of the gods. Rennik had no words. He only stared, not knowing what to say or do next.
It wasn't until Sa'id began to speak and look over the body that he reacted. The deathweaver, returned himself from the other side. He would despoil the body even further before allowing it to return to the soil. At least the spirit had moved on, and the deathweaver's depradations would have no affect on it. Still, just the thought made Rennik uncomfortable and angry.
As Sa'id spoke and Farron started to chime in, Rennik turned and walked out of the room, unwilling to watch what unfolded next. He would stand out there in dumbstruck silence until the others passed him on the way out.