The memorial wall wasn't... bad, but it was the only place we could spare for mourning anyone. Even then, after we moved bases, we lost the wall entirely. [He draws his thumb across the surface of the mug.]
I'd like the tour, though, I'd like to hear about the people resting there.
Mm. [Caduceus pauses for a moment, mulling over how to describe it.] I could tell stories for days. There's many families resting there, all with very different histories, some old enough to be legends. The graveyard dates back more than 800 years.
Hey, I got the time to hear as much as you'll tell me. [He tries for a smile, something a little more genuine manages to surface.] We did talk about trying tea from there before too. Gotta know who I'm drinking, right-?
Hmm... [He leans forward, lifting the teapot to swirl it around a bit, then tilting it towards Leonardo's mug to fill it. This is a good distraction, he thinks.] Well, I can't get you the tea just yet, but I can give you, ah, the tea. [Bad pun about gossip for you, champ.] How about, pick a letter?
[The pun does its work of earning a hoarse sounding kind of laugh from the turtle. His expression warming by a few degrees now.] Hmmm, hard choice, but, let's see, how about K?
K... ah. [Caduceus nods, his expression fond.] The Keencreek family, we laid to rest the last one about 30 seasons ago. Most were halflings, so the grave site was smaller, lot of little stones clumped together. They liked it that way, a quieter family. Very devout to the Wildmother- they were farmers, always praised her whether their harvest was heavy or thin. Without fail they'd donate a portion of their crop to their struggling neighbours, and just before winter, someone would bring a half-cart of grain to the Grove, so we'd have bread for winter. Good, kind people.
[Leonardo raises his mug, blowing against the surface of the tea to cool it off. He listens quietly, his lips curling into a gentle smile. Discussing the family feels like a good distraction.
It's morbid in a way, but, Leonardo finds it comforting. Death isn't something that frightens him these days. Everyone dies. The hard part is being remembered.]
They sound like people you'd want to know for sure. People you want to take care of in this case.
That's kinda how it was, growing up. We had people who took care of us in little ways, and we took care of them in turn. And the Wildmother took care of all of us. The wheel was always turning.
[They weren't quite a community, too isolated, too far from civilization. But those who believed remembered.]
[Leonardo tentatively takes a sip of his tea, managing to not scald his tongue with it after enough blowing on the surface.] that sounds pretty damn comforting, I gotta admit.
Certain bases we lived in sometimes got close to that feeling, never lasted long though.
That feeling can be ephemeral, no matter what your circumstances start out as. The woods have grown more corrupted and dangerous in recent years, so most people don't risk the journey. But for a long time, it's how we lived.
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I'd like the tour, though, I'd like to hear about the people resting there.
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It's morbid in a way, but, Leonardo finds it comforting. Death isn't something that frightens him these days. Everyone dies. The hard part is being remembered.]
They sound like people you'd want to know for sure. People you want to take care of in this case.
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[They weren't quite a community, too isolated, too far from civilization. But those who believed remembered.]
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Certain bases we lived in sometimes got close to that feeling, never lasted long though.
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