[color=#6ecff6][center][sub][h1][b]Siegfried Aschwin[/b][/h1][/sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/bYbIH9t.png[/img]
Location: The Wilds[/center][/color][hr][color=6ecff6]"Their corpses will feed the land,"[/color] Siegfried said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against the wind as he accepted a shovel from Illaria. He didn't offer a surname; out here, names were just another thing that could be used to track a man down. [color=6ecff6]"Siegfried,"[/color] he supplied simply.

He tested the weight of the tool, finding it balanced well enough for digging. The ground in the North was unforgiving even in the best of times, but this close to the border, beneath the layer of recent snow and slush, the earth was bound by a deep, stubborn frost. Digging a proper six-foot grave in these conditions with hand tools would take them hours, perhaps the rest of the day. They didn't have that kind of time.

[color=6ecff6]"Don't need to dig deep enough to hide them from the gods, just deep enough to hide them from the scavengers and the patrols,"[/color] Siegfried repeated to himself, stepping over to the headless body of Goldilocks. He brought the shovel down hard, using his boot to drive the iron edge through the crusted snow and into the frozen topsoil. The earth yielded with a reluctant, brittle crunch.

He fell into a steady, brutal rhythm. Lift, drive, heave. It was physical labor that demanded nothing of the mind, which suited him perfectly. The repetitive motion helped burn off the lingering adrenaline from the fight, settling the beast that the Luxun mages always managed to wake inside him.

He paused only to toss the blond mage's severed head into the shallow trench first, followed by the body, ensuring they fit compactly. He didn't handle the corpse with any reverence, but he didn't brutalize it either. It was just meat now.

When it came time for the silent knight, Siegfried moved with noticeably more care. He dragged the ruined, hollowed-out southern man to a freshly dug hole separate from the mages. He arranged the severed torso as best he could within the dirt, a silent apology to a man who had been denied the dignity of a true death.

As he worked the dirt back over the graves, packing it down tight with the flat of his shovel, he listened to Brig outline the plan. The roads were too exposed, and if the Fenris outpost had indeed fallen to the Luxun, walking up to the gates would be suicide. [i]Maybe...[/i] He pushed the thought aside. He was on a job, extended as it may turn out to be. No time for being reckless.

He leaned on his shovel, breath pluming in the cold air, and watched Eirún and Aslan prepare to scout ahead. He then looked toward the strange blue-haired woman and her horned companion, Aviti. He hadn't commented on the horns, having seen far stranger mutations born from rampant aura exposure and wild magic, but he noted the way they carried themselves. The cook and her escort. He didn't buy it any more than Brig did, but a blade was a blade, and out here, you used what was available.

Siegfried grunted, tossing the shovel aside. He checked the bindings on his axe and sword, ensuring they were secure for a hard march through dense brush.