10 Goblinsville #4

Wordlessly, we begin desecrating the graveyard.

We dug with our hands, privatizing anything we could find. I got a stone ax, expired potions, and 100 gold pieces. Otherwise, I pilfered various monster parts, extra spider legs, silk, a goblin eye, and even a Greatwurm tooth.

From the adventurer's cloaks we stole, we found player ids.

Our hole-ridden clothes had suffered irreparable battle damage. Owing to this game system clearly designed for female avatars, we were practically naked. We were also a collection of fugitives. Swapping our cloaks for those of the dead, we left those tattered rags behind.

As their ghosts, we also yoinked their stick and sharpened stone weapons.

"Seems nifty, eh?" Gordon had abandoned his quarterstaff for a slightly thicker one, and he batted a ribcage around.

"I don't know... do you think these people were just like us, once?" I absently pondered.

"It's gay to mourn the dead... wait, what's your name?" The squeaker looked like a victorious general in all that low-level bling. Stone and bone rings covered his fingers. Upon his bony neck, he displayed an amber bracelet, which housed a Jurrasic dragonfly-looking thing devouring its children.

"Ennui Sacrat."

"Doesn't that mean...?"

"Yeah, boredom Sacrat. I had no idea either until the SATs came around." I shrugged.

"Why?" Gordon stroked his chin like a philosopher as his patchy facial hair dragged his face downwards.

"Parents went on a three-year tour of the world right after I was born. Left me with a French midwife who hated their guts. Guess who registered my birth certificate?"

Gordon and the squeaker snickered. They were also now trying to fashion armor out of human bones.

After we were done, Lee stayed behind while we made camp. He reburied some of the dead, put names on their markers, and kowtowed silently.

Strangely enough, I think he was praying for us when we left a part of ourselves back there.

A small piece of our humanity.