The gray road bends toward a small shrine of the Last Lantern, where votive flames shelter beneath carved stone. Sir Silas arrives alone; the ash-wyrm remains behind with Vaeroth’s bones.
Teren Vale, a gaunt middle-aged man with weathered brown skin, hollow eyes, and a travel-stained blue-gray cloak, kneels beside a simple bier. His sister lies beneath a clean linen covering.
Teren Vale
Death-priest, I know your calling. Please, if you can, help her pass peacefully. She was afraid before the fever took her voice.
A shrine attendant has left a clay cup of water beside the bier. The lantern flames bend gently toward Silas, while the ember of Vaeroth remains warm against his injured palm.
Teren Vale
There is no haste here, they told me. I can speak of her, if that helps, or simply sit beside her until you are ready.
Sir Silas Mori
The shrine offers water, shelter, and quiet.
Beyond the carved threshold, the road lies empty beneath a paling sky. Within, the votive flames hold steady, waiting for Silas’s answer and the grieving brother’s courage.
“I kneel beside the bier and begin the rite”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +2)
Sir Silas kneels beside the bier, setting his weight carefully upon the shrine’s worn stone. The clay cup remains between him and Teren, untouched.
He begins the rite of passage in the shelter of the Last Lantern. Votive flames incline toward the bier, and the linen-covered form lies undisturbed beneath their gold.
Sir Silas Mori
The shrine is quiet, and her body is at rest.
Teren Vale
Her name is Mara. She always kept the first lantern lit when winter came, even when our stores were low.
Teren lowers himself onto the bier’s other side, folding his weathered hands over his knees. His voice trembles, but he does not look away from the covered face.
Teren Vale
She feared the dark after our mother died. If you can tell her the road is not empty, death-priest, I would be grateful.
The ember of Vaeroth warms against Silas’s injured palm, while the shrine’s oldest flame burns brighter. Teren’s breathing steadies, and the rite gathers the room into solemn quiet.
✓ Quest Accepted
Help Teren bid Mara farewell
“I tell Mara the road is not empty and that the Last Lantern shall guide her to the Reaping Angel's domain where her mother will be waiting for her with loving arms”
SUCCESS (Great Diplomacy, rolled +0)
Sir Silas Mori
Mara, the road is not empty. The Last Lantern shall guide you to the Reaping Angel’s domain, where your mother will be waiting with loving arms.
The words settle into the shrine’s solemn quiet. The oldest votive flame bends toward the bier, and a pale radiance gathers beneath the linen without disturbing it.
Mara
I hear you, death-priest. The road feels gentler now, and the lantern’s light reaches farther than the dark.
Teren bows his head as tears slip down his weathered cheeks. He does not touch the bier, but his hands unclench over his knees.
Mara
My mother is there? Then I need not carry winter’s fear with me. Tell my brother I remembered the lantern.
Teren Vale
I will remember, Mara. I will keep the first lantern lit, as you always did.
The radiance rises softly from the bier and passes into the Last Lantern’s flame. Its gold steadies, guiding Mara onward toward the Reaping Angel’s waiting domain.
Quest Complete
Help Teren bid Mara farewell