Final Rest

SPACE Garn carries Sable as best he can, over fallen logs and through hanging vines. Tears stream uncontrollably down his scarred face, but he pays them no heed. His friend who has meant so much to him, who gave him a reason to hang on when he would have rather died, is gone. He makes his way to find a place to lay Sable to rest. He looks for the most beautiful spot he can find, and, finally, he finds it.

SPACE Tall trees of full emeralds and rich browns. The jungle floor here is moist, but not swampy. Moss slinks up the trunks of most of the trees. A majority of the plant-life here is fruit bearing, mixing yellows, reds, and oranges amongst the eternal greenery.

SPACE Sable would have liked that.

SPACE Garn gently lays her body there, then kneels by her side.

SPACE “Goodbye, Sable,” he says. “I will miss you.”

SPACE And then he weeps. He weeps for several minutes. The sound of cracking underbrush tells him someone is approaching him from behind.

SPACE It is Alasdair. Walking up on Garn, he places his hand on the weeping warrior’s shoulder.

SPACE “I’m sorry I have to interrupt, friend, but there is something you should see.”

SPACE Garn wipes his teary eyes and stands and follows Alasdair’s lead.

SPACE The bard walks out of the lush clearing that is Sable’s final resting, and into another separate clearing. There Garn and Alasdair find hope and despair, all in one breath.

SPACE The first thing that can be seen is a road. Hope.

SPACE 90 degrees to the right, however, is despair. A statue sits at the southern end of this clearing. Standing ten feet tall, it is apparently made of stone. Its visage is that of a monster, with many sets of pupil-less eyes and enormous mandibles where a mouth should be. Eight arms remain outstretched, and each hand holds a rotting, mangled skull. Not skulls of stone, but real skulls. Human skulls. Flies buzz all about the gruesome spectacle like worshippers. It appears to be some sort of shrine, as many lumps of wax surround the base of the statue indicating candle drippings.

SPACE Neither Garn nor Alasdair recognize the icon, but they both realize it would be dangerous to stay near here.