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Aya names her adopted world Pantheon, and nicknames herself Spring (in the sense of springs of water, like those her goddess is of). Isabella and Adarin stay long enough to make her a mirror set (the other half accompanies them, in space in Isabella's portal bag made by the used-up resurrection herbs), make a portal in a nook of the chosen mountaintop between Pantheon and Chamomile, and leave a marker for another so there will be an easy chain from Chamomile to Pantheon to the home of the elderly and apparently lonesome Adarin.
And when they have done all of this, they stay long enough for not-lonesome Adarin to recover enough mana, and -
they go visit his alt.
dark_light
dark_light
"Fucking terrible alt. Oh, shit, his ring, his clothes, they're magic, is your husband going to bury him in them -"
blooded_poet
"Yes. Adarin - this is going to be confusing but I need you to follow my instructions, okay? Don't pay attention to the scenery or anything around you. Don't try and find your way by wandering through the world. It won't work. Focus on your wife, okay? Just her, follow her." Pause. "Okay, he agreed, he'll be following you now. We can head back to my husband, I'll notice if your husband gets lost."
blooded_poet
And off they go.
"My husband is that way," informs Lynn, pointing once they get there. "I checked."
"My husband is that way," informs Lynn, pointing once they get there. "I checked."
gentlemanly_fashion
And there is husband! He is still digging a grave, they were not gone that long. There is what is presumably Adarin's body, wrapped in cloth. Where he got the cloth, it's hard to say.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," he says.
dark_light
"My Adarin was wearing some magic things and probably shouldn't be buried with them," says Isabella.
gentlemanly_fashion
"What magical things? I grabbed the ring and contents of his pockets, please tell me I do not have to take off his clothes."
gentlemanly_fashion
"Nope, nope, pass, I so pass, I am so sick of taking clothes off of dead people, nope. Retired, you do it."
dark_light
Isabella kneels by her husband's corpse and unwraps the cloth to get at his armored clothes. At least it doesn't include the underwear; Adarin's ghost would probably be embarrassed further if it did. "What did you retire from that used to have you doing that?"
gentlemanly_fashion
"Demon hunting. Killing things, looting corpses for basic supplies, saving little kids from horrific other-wordly monsters. That kind of thing."
blooded_poet
Lynn kneels down to help, because she's been doing this for a while and has stopped caring.
blooded_poet
"Mm?" Lynn glances up, looks at his ghost, and then sighs. "... He doesn't want to make you do it because it is his corpse. Also he wants Veron to - 'shoo' because that would be weird."
blooded_poet
Lynn is quick and efficient at looting corpses. Clothes come off, and then the body's wrapped back up in cloth. "Done."
gentlemanly_fashion
"Okay I know you've done that like a million times but now it's weird because you're my wife," complains Savir.
blooded_poet
Lynn pats his shoulder. It's quite a reach. "There, there. Big baby."
She looks at Isabella. "Well, would you like me to hang around and interpret your husband?"
She looks at Isabella. "Well, would you like me to hang around and interpret your husband?"