Death of a Warrior

Isaak stood in front of the old man's house and watched him prepare himself. He'd settled all of his affairs. His daughter would get the house and the possessions within. The money he'd collected during his lifetime, a small fortune in and of itself, would be left to his children. None of them would be here to watch, though. They would come once the job was done, and then he would be lain to rest next to his wife under a beautiful yew tree behind the house. Isaak was honored to help him on his journey, truly he was.

"Boy" The ginger startled at the raised voice, having been lost in thought. He moved closer to the man, now clad in armor that was old yet well loved and taken care of "I'd ask something of ye. You don't have to do it, completely up to you..." Isaak nodded once, as a signal for the man to continue what he wanted to say "When I'm gone and buried, would you do me the favor of holding my vigil? I've asked too much of you already, but I must ask something once more."

"Of course." He didn't give the man time to retract the statement. Isaak knew of the right. It was one that was carried out by his family as well. The warrior's vigil, where someone the deceased respected stood watch over their grave for five days and five nights, warding off spirits and monsters that looked to drag them to unsavory places. It was also a blessing, a witness, to the passing. It made crossing into the holy land easier, if you had someone to watch you. So he would take the man's life, and then he would hold his vigil. It was only right.

With that squared away, they took up their places. Twin blades were drawn from their sheaths. A kite shield was raised high. They charged and they clashed. It was pure melee combat, no magic. He wanted to die a true warrior's death,crossing blades and hearts. The shield crumbled after a few solid blows, Durandal slicing through the age old metal like paper. Joyeuse shattered the sword he held aloft, and both punctured the armor with ease. Blood dribbled from the man's mouth, but he smiled all the same. Thanks on his lips as the life faded from his eyes.

It wasn't his job, but by the time Ior's family had arrived he was prepped for the burial. He had lain out his funeral garb, simple yet elegant. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping rather than dead. They continued on with the funeral, burying him in sullen silence. There were tears, and while Isaak had tried to stay away as to award them some semblance of privacy, they welcomed him into the occasion. They even embraced him, thanking him for giving their father the end he wanted.

Once the funeral was over, Isaak took his place against the tree, stabbing his blades into the ground before him in an X-shape. He closed his eyes and meditated quietly. Like he promised, he would hold the vigil "And with it, I'll say goodbye. May we meet one the fields of battle in the after life, old warrior."