Vendrick continued to dig. The reason why he continued to do so was escaping him. All he knew was the contents of the boxes. As he continued to dig, his old ears kept on hearing something. Shivering, shaking, scratching, scuttling, and slicing. These sounds seemed to echo in his mind, and armour. He stopped whispering the hymn. What was that sound? Vendrick could barely hear these, but their near-silent echo reminded him of something. Perhaps something he had forgotten? That didn't matter. What did was how the noise continued. It was a pain. The sounds seemed to bring back a memory. A disgusting memory that Vendrick had forgotten.

The memory was that of when he was a child. An empty field? No... It wasn't empty. It was filled with corpses and fire. Many people were there. They weren't helping Vendrick. They pushed him aside, and tore the armour off of the carcasses. They hadn't even buried the bodies. The child Vendrick had no opinion on this, but the much older Vendrick was wrought with disgust. What a blatant disrespect for the dead.

Vendrick wanted to puke. He couldn't. He just had to finish his job. He remembered why he had to bury the boxes. Everything that had died must be buried. That was the teaching of the pious path. The path that Paete followed. Vendrick continued to hear the noises. It filled him with disgust. He hated the sound. He needed to stop the sound. The sound was horrid. The sound brought back [i]those[/i] types of memories. He quickly tore the spear off of its harness that rested on Vendrick's back, and threw it towards the noise. It had not hit anything living, but a single wall. As soon as it struck, a bright flash of light illuminated the area, followed by a huge [b]BANG[/b]. This would no doubt draw attention, but Vendrick didn't care. It stopped the noise. At least, for a while.