SALGA

Salga cleaned her axe on the paladins cloak before going through the mans belongings for
valuables. He gurgled his protest, but was unable to do much more. Do not worry little man,
Salga replied, smiling into the dying mans eyes, youll be dead soon enough. Dont feel to bad
about it, she laughed softly, you put up a hell of a fight. She gestured to the deep gash across
her chest. Not many have the skill to inflict such a wound upon me. Your god is no doubt proud
of you. Salga thought this must have brought peace to the mans heart, his face softened into a
pained smile and his eyes closed.
Upon packing up the mans valuables, she checked to see if he was still alive. Still with us?
she cooed Worry not, your god will call you home this day. She was impressed with the little
mans resolve, to breathe yet after the grievous wounds he suffered was no small task. He must
be in a tremendous amount of pain, she thought to herself.
Salga set to work digging a grave and lining the bottom of it with deadfall branches. She
removed the paladins breastplate, emblazoned with the symbol of his god, and drove it into the
ground at the head of the grave. A fitting marker for a fallen warrior, she thought. After gathering
more deadfall she returned to the paladin shuddering through his final breaths. Be at peace,
brave little man. Your god loves you. She said softly. She sat quietly with him until he passed. It
did not take long.
She gently laid the man into the grave, and placed his sword upon his chest, crossing his
arms over the hilt and laying his holy symbol upon the pommel. When she was sure all was
placed properly, she laid the rest of the deadfall around and on the corpse, and poured a bottle
of oil over the man and the branches.
Salga removed her own armor and clothes and knelt beside the grave. She lit a torch and
tossed it in, igniting the oil. She called to the spirits of the dead, to guide the brave warrior to his
eternal rest. Then she prayed over the pyre, First to the paladins god, then to her own, and sat
in silence until the fire died down, and filled the grave before gathering her clothes and armor
and returning to the mouth of her cave. At the entrance she turned back and took a long look.
Seventeen graves now, in a neat row at the edge of the clearing.