Those are the times -

Lesburr wore the burgundy sheet over her like a shawl, her bare feet rustling softly as she padded out from her tent. Brulk stood beside her, arms folded across his chest and wearing an ever more common frown. Before them stood a couple dozen Hillmen, most of 'em not Brulk hadn't set his eyes on before. Hairy, sinewy blokes. A couple women mixed in amongst 'em, painted faces and rotten smiles as ugly as the mens. No sign o' his crew, no sign o' Khelem Dur. Brulk's earhole itched some a whores..

A soft hand on his shoulder shook him from his train of thought, Lesburr's bright green eyes beaming up at him. "Son's and daughters of the Hills.." She began, speaking in a half whisper, and removed her hand from Brulk to mingle with those she addressed. "Good people of the hills, fights of the Chief's.." The assortment of scraggly warriors began to bow, row by row, as she passed them. "Faithful of the devoted, servants of the true lord.."

Brulk felt something inside himself tense, that familiar throbbing sensation on the end of his ear lobe aching something chronic. "A new task is upon us, a new test of our Faith.." She stopped, and turned softly. "Of you, I have no doubt of success.. But I ask you, all of you, if you have doubts?" Her eyes set on Brulk's, bright as sapphires under a Dwarf's lense-box. Nobody moved, nobody spoke. The only sound was Lesburr's feet softly padding their way back to him. "I have doubts.." Her eyes shifted, not in direction but in shade. Something burnt beneath 'em. She stopped infront of Brulk, they're noses no more'n an inch apart. "You never did see, did you?" Brulk frowned, and pinched his lips as she leaned alittle closer. "Half-Sight." She uttered, placing a delicate kiss on his right eye.

Brulk flinched. The tent flap was swung open and Brulk flinched again. Kust burst from inside, a jagged looking long-knife clenched in his dead-mans grip. "What?" muttered Brulk. Something pricked his neck, and Lesburr took a step back. "What?" he muttered again, tracing his fingers across the fresh needle hole in his neck. He felt something thick, like milk left out in the sun too long. His legs felt weak, and his head began to drift away from him. "Wha--.." He collapsed into Kust's arms, a dead weight in a dead man's arms..