Brother Robert is startled awake by the cries of shock. The moment he awakes, he's hit with a massive headache that throbs relentlessly. He fell asleep on the cold ground, not under any sort of covering, so he's covered with a thin layer of snow. He shifts, and the snow falls off. The events of the previous night come back in a flash, and he groans into his hands. How the hell was he able to insult the group's leader and their resident noble? He'd have to rectify that immediately. He's tuned into his internal monologue, as listening to the rest of the group with any actual brain power would only worsen the headache, so he misses all of the revelations.
After a moment of groaning, he hauls himself up, to see the group gathered around two tents. Confused, he slowly, as to not aggravate his headache, walks over to the smaller group; the one around Ricky's camp. The sight of the giant's mangled body causes him to stumble over to a nearby bush and retch the contents of his stomach out. He takes one glance at the group surrounding Freyja's tent, and makes the connection.
Eyes stinging with tears and mouth still tasting of bile, he silently weeps for his fallen comrades.
"Burying him is still too early. We should at least wait and see if the priests of Chilvern can do something for him."
"
They can't. His mortal vessel has been damaged beyond repair. Saint Esbel has accepted his soul for the eternal accounting. Now, it's left to us that we see that his body gets the respect it deserves. I can perform the rites." Brother Robert's voice is of a different timbre as opposed to last night. It's clear and crisp, with a distinct, educated accent, completely opposed to the slurring, indistinguishable accent that he had last night. More than that, it's layered, coated, nay, soaked in sadness and remorse.
He steps over to examine the body of Freyja, and the bile and tears resurge, stinging with only a fraction of the metaphorical knife that was driven through his heart. Stepping away, he sees
Ludmilla standing a distance apart from the group. He approaches, head held high with determination.
"
I want to apologize for what I said to you last night. It was out of line, and I apologize. However, I want it to be clear that I am not a soldier in your army, I am a warrior in the service of Saint Esbel. Do not presume to order me around; that is neither my place nor yours. Again, I apologize for the things I said last night."
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Topic: Frostfell Wastes IC: The Journey Begins (Read 98164 times)