To The Sandpoint Five it seemed like the loss of their beloved companion Tellorn was far too fresh to be committing another companion to the fire, and yet here they stood in the marble hall of the Magnimar temple of Calistria, watching as the priestess called the magical fire that would consume the mortal remains of Alonian Tyrinx. As the chants continued around them, each of the Five had only their own thoughts for company as they waited for the ritual to end.
Karrnath’s mind was deeply troubled as he recalled the events of the previous day. Their plan had been tactically sound, but they had underestimated their foe’s strength and resources and, in the end, it was only Karrnath who remained conscious to deliver the deathblow to the lamia matriarch known as Xanesha. At the time, he had been wracked with indecision, wondering whether to flee a seemingly hopeless situation or to try and fight this powerful foe. Although it was his hand that sent the old clock bell careening downward, knocking Xanesha from the air even as it crushed the life from her, he had to wonder if he had done enough. If things had gone differently, could he have saved Alonian?
Dorn barely noticed the activity in the hall as his mind worked over their encounter with the Skinsaw Cult. Certainly, this group of murderers and assassins had been working the service of several evils, but he could not make out their connection to recent events. He contemplated their interrogation of the cult’s leader, Justice Ironbriar, replaying the conversation mentally as he searched for answers hidden in the evil elf’s words. Was there something else there that they had missed, that could have better prepared them for the fight at the Shadow Clock?
Aable marveled at the sinuous movements of the priests and priestesses as they danced and chanted in Alonian’s honor. Although he normally found it difficult to distinguish between the genders when looking at fully-clothed elves, he noted that in their scant ritual garb, the difference was clear enough for anyone to see. Even their funeral dirge had a sort of erotic quality to it that Aable found disturbingly arousing. This agitation led his thoughts once again to poor Alonian, who had barely stood a chance as that horrible snake-lady had pursued him through the air, stabbing again and again with her wicked spear. Although enveloped in silence at the time, Aable had imagined that he could hear Alonian’s final scream as the spear pierced his heart. Even though he had been the only party member who was unable to fly during their encounter with Xanesha, Aable wondered with a broken heart, was there something else that he could have done to save his lovely friend?
Durgim wondered if Sprinkles was alright penned up in the inn’s exotic animal stable and hoped that all this wussy-dancing and singing was going to be over soon. Would Sprinkles be upset at being penned for so long?
Kedrith stood slightly back from the rest of the group, not wanting to intrude on their mourning. He had never met this Alonian fellow and he was mainly here out of respect for his new adventuring party – they had even made him a provisional member of The Sandpoint Five! He guessed that their fight at The Shadow Clock with this flying snake bitch had been a tough one, since one of them had been killed, but so far his time with the group had been great. After he had been recruited, they went back to the clocktower and killed a gross-looking flesh golem in about 20 seconds – excellent! Kedrith tried hard to keep his excitment in check and project only respectful silence while he composed an appropriate toast to the fallen for after the funeral. There would be drinks after the service, right?