Moonsong Glacier torn butterfly wings

Oh, he was a devil, this one.

The Taggerung hadn’t faltered upon hearing the cyclops’ request. The very idea of hunting deceased spirits was what bards dreamed of. The stories he could tell of this encounter filled his mind with a pleasant song.

Yes, let’s, the bard agreed openly. The lean figure watched with a careful eye as the devilish wolf began his search.

Tagg was no good at summoning ghosts, ghouls, or goblins of any kind. He was not so firmly against them. The Taggerung had merely found that it took a great deal of faith in nothing to find these things.

Fortunate for the two of them, the bard seemed to have little issue with disturbing a burial site.