Dark clouds gathered in the sky, and thunder could be heard in the distance. Oberyn looked down at the grave. The foul killers and rappists his brother in arms had chosen to surround himself with in the last days of his life stood around the small grove of trees, looking bewildered and confused. Their war leader was gone, probably the one reassurance in the chaotic mess they called their lives.
His brother had been burried as a warrior should, they told him, clad in armor and weapons to face what awaited him beyond, but his helmet had been left to mark his resting place. Oberyn examined the helmet, and remembering Gnjus in his battle fury he almost felt a moment of pity for whatever shade or demon would dare trouble him in the afterlife.
Oberyn couldn't quite believe this was true. Gnjus, taken down by a stray arrow? It could not be. He had come as soon as he could, fully expecting it to be another one of Gnjus's bad japes. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he adressed the bandit standing next to him, a deformed and violent creature that called itself Panos. The thing glared at him with dull glassy eyes.
"And you say an arrow felled him from behind? He was not careless enough to turn his back on an archer."
Panos hacked and spit a glob of plegm then answered "Twas a friendly arrow. Gnjus was always shoutin' at dese bastards, tellin' dem dey would get him kilt one day with deir prancing about with der fancy bows. Looked he was right".
They both turned to the grave again. "It is not proper for him to be resting here, in this little grove in this little village. He was once a mighty Lord. Our old order still stands. I will ask them to open the Mausoleum of Heroes and give him a place of honor." The bandit cared little for this talk of glory and honor. He mantained his glare of implacable stupidity.
Oberyn turned and left without another word. He would send people to retrieve the bones and arms of his comrade...or some random peasant's corpse. Honor and glory were all fine and well, but he knew Gnjus himself did not give a damn about them. He wanted to see the body for himself. Too many times had Oberyn heard rumours of Gnjus's untimely death, and always had found them to be false. If this time it really was true...well, Gnjus had left a trail of bastards in all four corners of Calradian brothels. He would have to find the ones best suited to follow in their father's footsteps.
Poll