Turn 96 -- Randor's Burial

7th day of Alturiak. Afternoon. Baron of Mutton

Heroes. Walking into the Baron of Mutton to the cheers and adulation of the townspeople of Milbourne, there is no mistaking the feeling of pride and heroism welling up in each of the members of the Red Feather Company. No matter the shady deeds done in their past, no matter the failures of long ago, tonight, for this one night at least, they all can be counted heroes.

The common room of the Baron quickly overflowing with happy townspeople, Garyld quickly steps up to calm the crowd.

"People....people....quiet! As sheriff of Milbourne under the authority of Darius Carman, I proclaim this day a holiday in honor of the extermination of the vermin in the mines by the Company of the Red Feather," loud cheering drowns out the next words from Garyld before he quiets everyone once again. "Barthelew, first round of drinks are on the town!"

At this proclamation, the Baron of Mutton quickly erupts into loud cheering, "Three cheers fer Garyld!....Three cheers fer the Red Feather Company!"

As the cheering subsides somewhat and Barthelew and his waitresses quickly begin the task of dispensing drinks to the patrons, the doors to the Baron open and a rather haggard-looking middle-aged woman walks into the inn. Thin, pale cheeks and dark circles under her eyes signify to all a considerable lack of sleep for her. Eyes scanning the crowd, she slowly pushes through the throng and makes her way to the area of the Company. Reaching the outer edges of the revelers gathered around the company she stops, her eyes locked on the image of the prisoner rescued by the party. "It's true..." she whispers softly, tears streaming unashamedly down her face. "Ephram!" she calls as she rushes into the arms of her lost husband.

Ephram looks upon his wife uncertainly for a few moments before recognition washes over his face. All the pain and torture of the past few weeks dissolves as the arms of his loving wife encircle him. Tears wash down his face as well as he hugs his wife. The company watches with pride this reunion of the man who was to be food for the orcs with his wife again. After several moments, the couple grudgingly parts as the wife moves away from her husband to offer a strong hug and kiss to each of the party members in turn. "Thank ye so much....we can ne'er repay ye....I'm fore'er in ye debt...."

The reunited couple slowly takes their leave of the company and the party after saying their thanks, wishing to return to their home to try and repair their lives. Taking the offered drinks from Barthelew, the companions fall into the chairs at the table, exhaustion from the journey and a week in the underground washing away quickly. By the second and third drinks, the loss of Randor is but a numbness in the dark recesses of their psyche. The fourth and fifth drinks have washed away the thought of another foray into the underground; washed away for all save Kersath and Garth.

Following a hearty meal and a couple of hours of celebration, just to be polite, Garth excuses himself from the festivities. Walking outside, he tends to his faithful pony, Bucky, himself. As workers returning from a day at the mines enter the Baron of Mutton, Garth is last seen heading for the fields near town. It is a moonlit night and a perfect time for one who worships Selune.

As the moon rises to its full height, the merriment inside the Baron of Mutton continues on in full swing. The members of the company have dispersed somewhat as the townspeople constantly pull them apart to relay the events of their time underground. Ortho, Druckner, Gnore, Snagger and Ol' Grizzler however maintain a rousing table near the fireplace. Drinking heavily and loudly proclaiming the deeds of the Red Feather Company, the dwarves play host to a rather large group of on-lookers. In a rather strange twist, Dain joins in the partying rather heavily, drinking a large amount of wine and feasting heavily. During the course of the night, he tries several times to purchase a small amount of tabac from nearby townspeople but each time he is refused and his pipe is graciously refilled.

Kersath joins in on the partying and merriment but only half-heartedly. He knows what awaits the group in the underdark and the picture does not look good, although he tries not to show it. Talimar sits at a table with the dark elf, sipping occasionally at his wine, trying to maintain a low profile surrounded by all the humans in the room. With the rising heat from the fire and the growing number of patrons in the inn, it isn't long before the two elves make their apologies and slip out of the inn to enjoy the fresh air outside.

Early in the evening, Kre makes his apologies as well, moving to speak with Ras, "I think I'll go visit a few places around town, I should be there for the burial but don't expect me back at night sometimes. May I have some of my share of the loot right now? I might need some to...loosen a few tongues, a hundred gold should do it." Ras nods knowingly and dispenses the money to his companion. With that done, Kre moves out of the Baron of Mutton and heads over to the Silver Crown as Ras moves back to join the dwarves at their table.

8th Day of Alturiak. Morning. Baron of Mutton.

The next morning, the party members are awakened by a gentle knock on their doors. Gnore curses loudly as he slowly gets out of his bed, having wished to spend the morning sleeping late for the first time in months. That gone now, he hurriedly opens the door. The serving girl before him cringes at the sight of the hung-over dwarf and the anger clearly evident on his face. Bowing awkwardly, she finally stammers out that he is to meet a friend downstairs for breakfast before running down the hall to wake the others. Gnore slams the door and falls back into his bed heavily as the ringing of the hammer striking the anvil pounds in his head. After a few moments, he curses again and rises to dress.

As the individual party members make their way downstairs, they find Garth waiting for them at the breakfast table. Though well groomed and cleaned, his clothes looking recently mended from a foray into the underdark; deep circles and bloodshot eyes belie a night spent without sleep. In a haggard voice Garth says, "I have prepared Randor for burial. I have chosen a spot I think he would like, just outside of town. After we finish here, I thought we could hold his funeral."

A night of revelry and rejoicing is quickly forgotten as the sobering fact of an empty place at the breakfast table becomes evident. After a silent and uncomfortable meal, Garth leads his friends outside. There he unhitches Bucky from a post. Attached to Bucky is a drag-litter with a shrouded passenger. Without a word, Garth leads the procession through town.

As the party passes through the village, occasionally a person joins the procession. Eventually a fair number of villagers join in. Most are poor and simple folk. These tend to greet Garth quietly by name. Shaking their hands and sharing a brief, but sad smile, Garth greets them all by name. Other folk just join in, nodding to the party in silent rejoinder.

Eventually Garth leads the party to a small stand of trees in a field. All can see that there is a freshly dug grave, lined with stones pressed into the earthen sides. Next to it is a rather large pile of stones, fit for the cairn of a fallen friend.

With a few brief words, Garth brings smiles at joyful times with Randor, tears at his passing, and a swelling of pride at how he lived his life with his friends. The villagers take Garth's words to heart when he points out how Randor gave his life that theirs might be safer and more prosperous. At the end of his brief eulogy, Garth nods to Semheis, the priest of Tyr running the local temple and the young man steps forward to speak on Randor's life as a servant of Tyr and his place in the afterlife. Coming to a close, Semheis nods and Garth directs the rest of his friends in lowering Randor into his final resting-place. Reaching down, Garth picks up one of the rocks from the pile and a handful of earth. He casts the earth into the grave and gently lays down the rock. Standing back, he makes room for the others to do the same. Some of the village children toss flowers into the grave instead of dirt. Garth smiles at them and lays a callused hand lovingly on their shoulders.

This ritual is repeated until the cairn of the fallen warrior-priest Randor is complete. Kneeling before the grave one last time, Garth kisses the topmost stone and whispers, "Rest well friend. May you find eternal happiness in the sight of your god."

Standing before the cairn, Dain grasps a handful of earth and scatters it across the stone, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. What is, will be and what was will be again."

Then without further ceremony, Garth turns to lead Bucky back to town. Respectfully following Garth and Bucky, Ortho nudges Gnore, "Ye know, Ah could not 'ave done as well meself. Would not 'ave known how ta handle a human's burial. Ah'm glad Garth took care of it. He did a nice job."

Gnore nods as if he understands a human's burial, "Aye, but it is not the same without the pyre, I think." Gnore finishes in a whisper as he takes one last look over his shoulder at Brother Randor's grave.

Kersath quietly approaches Garth and walks by his side. After a while of silent marching, Kersath lifts his head, looks to the distance and with a sigh, says, "Thank you for that, that ceremony. He was a truly honorable man, and he got a burial fit for the proudest warrior." With a voice that is heavy with grief, he adds, "Thank you."

Garth nods his head silently as he and his friend walk along, the dwarf not speaking, fearing that his voice would betray the deep sense of grief he feels.

Around noon that same afternoon, the party meets back at the Baron of Mutton once again. Over a tasty meal, Ras dispenses each member's share of the treasure taken from the caverns of the orcs and the money owed them from completing previous tasks. The halfling is in a rather jovial mood despite the ceremony of the morning, and after several inquiries he finally explains, "I found the messenger that I sent to me ma a few weeks ago and he had good news for me. I've also arranged for another messenger and team be sent to bring her and her possessions to Milbourne to live here!"

"Ras, if yer bringin' yer mother here do ye think she might be interested in a job?" asks Ortho. "If she is, Ah would suggest that we employ her as our steward fer whatever base or headquarters our little company decides to procure. What say you, Tal? It'd solve a problem fer us and another fer Ras."

Druckner slaps Ortho and Ras on the back and exclaims, "A turrific idee! A'm all for it! Hopefully your ma will agree, Ras!"

Ras turns to Ortho and Druckner rather mournful, he responds with a small tear in his eye, "I guess you forgot my mother, bless her soul, is still blind. Unless someone can cure her and I am afraid that is too late, she has been blind for almost 20 years." He perks up a little though, "I do appreciate that friends and I know she would love to cook for us when we are in town."

Gnore perks up at the thought of a home cooked meal. "Eh, a mother's cooking? A meal made with the tenderness only a mother can give. I hope she gets here real soon." Gnore comments while lost in his imagination of a table laden with food cooked the way only a mother can.

"Ah don' remember perfect eyesight bein' a requirement fer the job," continues Ortho. "How's 'er mind? Sharp as yers? Ah' she can cook! THAT is certainly a promisin' trait to have in our steward," states Ortho with a wide grin. "Remember, she ain't doin' the work. She's ta make sure it gets done. Eyes aren't exactly necessary. Backbone an' willpower are."

Ras nods at the words of his friend and a bit of excitement grows in him as he thinks about having his mother near again. "We'll see what she says when she gets here," he finally says in answer.

"Good enough," responds Ortho with a wink to Druckner and Gnore.

Following the meal, with money in hand, the members of the company disperse and go about their individual preparations for the journey into the underdark; each having a wish list in their minds of the items necessary for several down below.