Confluence of Spheres

Lest We Forget Those We Left Behind

A Remembrance

Eulogy for Page: A Rope of Sand

Page, a good friend and a great warrior. When first we met at the Drunken Gull Tavern a true and grand friendship was born. Though you were a bit strange I accepted your admiration and kindness without hesitation. Many of my rat friends share the same fondness that I have for you and you for I. I will always cherish the memories we made like that time you took out those guards with that sick ass hammer and that other time. Which reminds me of an amusing anecdote, when Mopan hired us to break his finger foods…I mean cook out of prison, you turned to me and said “This prison is heavily fortified with the toughest guards and the strongest bars. All I have is my hammer, we need your wit, your charm, and your devastating good looks to see us through this harrowing deed.” And of course I said yes, how could I turn such a close, beloved, and desperate friend away. But things did not go so smoothly and that is no ones fault….except for that drunken hobo….REVENGE….From HELL’S HEART I will stabbeth THEE……….where was I? Oh right..Vengeance….Beware Drunken Hobo for I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers, in this case sisters. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you, but moving on.

Oh gods I beseech you and your wisdoms, you took her, as you took so many bright flowering young adventurers at Balder’s Gate, on the Sword Coast, at Khe Sanh, at Langdok, at Hill 364. These young adventurers gave their lives. And so would Page. Page, who loved bowling people over with her hammer. And so, in accordance with what I think your dying wishes might well have been I scatter these, uh they wouldn’t release her body for cremation so I, uh had to make do….I scatter these, representative, ashes to the great sea and call out to all the gods I implore you: give her… give her a break.Ashes to ashes Dust to Dust There goes a Tiefling you really could trust

And now a closing poem

Oh Page, Page!
So full of rage, rage!
Why have you gone, gone?

In the Drunken Gull
over flagons full
(Mopan’s Butler knocks out Willow and tosses him into a potato sack)



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