A soft chill carries over the wind as a town revels in their victory. Songs of good fortune and whimsy grace the revelers lips, as the beat of drums and hearts carry their songs across Travance. The trees' shudder dies down as harmony slowly begins to fall upon them. Soon it will be only the cold that chases away the birds and deer.

A family waves goodbye, a smile, a hug, and the exchanging of a few presents decorates their departure. They did not live far away, and promised to visit their new friends and heroes as soon as they could.

Two dead things talk amongst themselves in their passing, friends until the end, one waited for the other to join them.

“So you threw it all away…?”
“I didn’t throw it away, no. Either way, I guess, I got what I wanted in the end.”
“Oh…... so it would seem Elma….”
“So it would.”

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Goblin Shaman: "This is the skull of the leader from the last town we destroyed!"

Apollo: "That looks rather small... what is it? A hobbit skull?"

Goblin Shaman: "Probably!"