At the Grave
You find yourself with your party in the great plains, before you — delineated by three heavy slate stones — a grave. Letters are hewn into the sleek plates and a fine golden rim highlights the font, it reads: “Shieldbearer the XIV, Lord of Brosztein”. As each of you passed your will saves none of you lost your composure, even though you are all battling with tears. I asked you for the obituaries, please step forward: Mallethead Noword and present it to us.
Mallethead kept standing between his friends. The bronze muscles and giant frame made him stand out from the party on normal days. Now he looked tiny and limp. Paladin Ganzig patted him softly on the broad shoulders in encouragement. Mallethead pressed his lips into a thin line as he looked up from the dry grass beneath him. A forced smile only moved the corners of his mouth a bit, he was not prepared, but he had trained.
With unusual small steps he moved his huge body in front of the stones. He opened his enormous fists to reveal a piece of parchment. It was tiny compared to his hands, almost comically so. The size of the symbols on it was so large that it was bordering on perversion. Smeared Ink gave the tanned animal skin a sickly blueish tint.
“Mmm” he started “M-M-Mmmm”, his forehead wrinkled in concentration: “M-M-Mall-Mallethead”. Pearls of sweat started to roll down his chest as he stared at the note between his fingers: “M-M-Mallethead misses”. His body started to tremble as the emotions grasped for his muscles like hands of steele.
Then there was a scream. Thrusting his body upright, arms stretched to the side all of his pain was forced out of his mouth in a powerful explosion of pain: “MALLETHEAD MISSES SHIELDBRO”
The cry hit the bystanders like a wall of ice. Releasing all his pain and grieve in loud sobs, the air and the ground became devoid of warmth around the barbarian. The pastures now felt like a long forgotten tomb. As the energy subsided, it left a hollow silence.
The Elven Ranger, Amelia Griphonhung leaned forward to ask Ganzig in a lowered voice: “He is mute? How did he do that?”. Glancing over the Paladins face she recognized that his stone like face was drenched in compassionate tears. He did not turn to face her but answered in a sombre tone: “I don’t know”. He seemed to think for a moment and then, more softly repeated: “I don’t know.”
After what felt like an eternity Mallethead slumped forward, quivering he cowered like a beaten dog in a dank alley. His Body looked withered and gray, almost frail. His friends hurried toward him. Fearing for his well-being they decided to leave the grave immediately. Carried by two townspeople they started the cumbersome way back to the village.
As the procession had travelled for a while, Paladin Ganzig turned back to see the burial place a last time.
At this moment a drop of water hit his armored forearms, soon followed by more. It started to rain, then pour. Ganzig return to the party where he was promptly asked by Amelia: “Why are you smiling to yourself, Paladin?” Paladin Ganzig looked caught, then a smile returned to his face as he said: “The Rain, it is silent. Even the Sky cries for him.”
This was a response to a Writing Prompt but apparently not in r/WritingPrompts. I have sadly misplaced the topic and will hopefully locate it sometime in the future.