[color=A0A0A0][h2]Fleuri Jodeau[/h2][/color]

Fleuri trudged through the cemetery, alone but earshot of the other knights, torch in hand.  Even with his relative proximity to his brothers and sisters of the order, the eerie calm of the cemetery and the dance of the shadows of the trees and headstones against his torch frayed his nerves, made all the worse by the knowledge that there was a necromancer in the area.  It wasn't a matter of if, but when they ran into the reanimated dead.  Fleuri recalled the advice of his mentor, the paladin whom he had served as a squire during the War of the Red Flag.  

[i]It is normal for even devoted servants of Reon to feel apprehension or fear when faced with the prospect of battling the undead.  What truly matters is that you carry out Her will regardless.  Through devotion to Reon, knowledge of our enemy, and experience in facing them, we have the strength to stand and fight when others would falter and flee.[/i]

Another important lesson his mentor had taught him was the importance of preparation when facing necromancers and undead.  Failure meant not only death, but the very real possibility of one's remains being desecrated, reanimated, and used against your allies.  With the situation as dire and urgent as it was, the Iron Roses didn't have time to properly prepare.  Fleuri himself only had enough time to grab a claymore, cuirass, and helmet from the Crown Knights' armory.  Fortunately, Fleuri knew of a way to offset their lack of preparation, because his family had already done it for them.

Fleuri arrived at one of his destination- the Jodeau mausoleum, the resting place of his ancestors.  Two particular details distinguished this particular mausoleum: the Jodeau Sun symbol above the door, and the two statues of Reon flanking the door, their mismatched shade of stone compared to the rest of the structure making it clear that they were later additions.  To Fleuri, it was a grandiose reminder of the power they once wielded, and of what they had become since then.  It was a little somber to look upon, knowing that someday he too would be laid to rest within.

It was fortunate he didn't need to go inside, because with his nerves as rattled as they were, he would have to muster a great deal of courage to do so.  He examined the door, checking to ensure that its lock had not been broken.  The door did not budge, its lock holding it 
tightly shut.  Relieved and satisfied at the knowledge that the tomb had not been broken into, Fleuri then began examining the statues more closely.

The statues, depicting a goddess known for her small stature, were much shorter than the ones they replaced, and stood on conspicuously tall plinths in order to maintain the same profile.  But Fleuri knew that there was another reason that they made the plinths so large- preparation.  When his family devoted itself to Reon, there came worries that they would begin making enemies of the practitioners of the profane practice of necromancy, and that their family tomb would become a particularly tempting target for wicked mages.  Thus they had prepared for this eventuality, by placing a cache of blessed anti-undead equipment inside the hollow spaces hidden in one of these plinths, so that if their duty to Reon and to family ever demanded that they place their ancestors to rest again, they would have the weaponry set aside to do so.  At least that's what Fleuri was taught- he didn't actually know what the equipment was.  In theory it was only supposed to be used if their own tomb was desecrated, but the circumstances now demanded otherwise.

[i]It should be around here somewhere,[/i] Fleuri thought as he fumbled around looking for any sort of secret compartment in the plinths with his torch as his only illumination.  Ah, there we go.  Fleuri opened a hidden sliding door on the back of the plinths and reached inside, pulling out a small satchel.  [i]Really?  Is this all we had stashed here?[/i] he thought to himself, visibly let down that the only contents were was two flasks of Reonite holy fire-water.  It was useful weaponry against undead for sure, but not nearly enough of it to make much of a difference.  [i]I suppose it's better than nothing,[/i] he thought, as he hastily slung the satchel onto his shoulder and dashed back to the rest of the group, hoping he didn't miss anything.