The Gates of Mirkwood: RPG

[Earniel]

"I think that's not quite what he said," said Beryn, who was beginning to understand how Fletch thought, "But I think I've got a pretty good idea of what he meant. Now you should go."

After the horses had disappeared from sight, Beryn entered the tent to begin her sad duty. Carefully she lifted Ravenlocks from the cot where she had died and carried her outside. Here she lay the dead woman below a tree and went to fetch a shovel, or anything the orcs had abandonned that could serve as one.

The ground was loose and digging was not as hard as she had feared. The labour managed to take her mind of the things that had recently happened. When the grave was finished, she placed Ravenlocks in her final resting place and filled the grave. When she was done, she unhooked a little flask from her belt and held it up.

"This is mead from the Brown Ale Inn." she said to the grave. "Not the best sort, mind you, but still very drinkable."

She poured the liquid over the grave and rehooked the empty flask back on her belt.

It's your last drink, I fear, Ravenlocks. According to the Elves, there are Houses of the Dead across the western ocean where Humans linger a little before they move on beyond the circles of the world. I hope for you they serve mead there."

She turned around, hesitated and then turned around again back to the grave. "And if they don't, tell them to start stocking it until I arrive," she added.

Now that Ravenlocks was properly burried, Beryn set fire to the Torture Tent and the remains of the orc-camp that would burn. She left the orc-corpses for the carrion birds. But she took the head of the one she had identified as the orc-leader and placed it on a high stake for all to see.

"My work is done here," she said as she patted Honey on the neck. "Now let's go, before I start talking to dead people or horses."

Honey neighed offendedly. With a smile Beryn swung herself into the saddle and rode in the direction in which her companions had left.