Standing on a grassy hill overlooking the city of Bale, the four figures stood motionless in the wind. As the lone tree on the hill swayed in the gently spring breeze the four friends stood silently, grieving in their own ways over the unmarked grave.
The man standing on the right simply bowed his head out of respect. This man was tall and wore the trappings of a soldier of Bale. His green tunic showed a bit from beneath his shining silver armor.
The woman standing to his left fell to her knees crying as she looked at the grave. She was older than the rest by quite a bit. Her graying hair danced in the wind as it whipped the tears from her face.
The man standing to her left was gaunt and frail looking in his baggy clothing. The only sign of any emotion that he showed was his hand trembling as he held the woman to his lefts hand.
The final figure, a female of exquisite beauty just stood there as if she did not know how to react. She tried to help hold the mans hand steady but was of no avail.
After sometime the group turned and left the grave and headed toward Bale, the weight of the dead lifting from their shoulders.
As they neared the city the gaunt man looked at the old woman and stated blankly, "Why is there still no headstone for our grandparent's best friend?"
At this comment the entire group stopped and the man in soldiers garb gave the gaunt man a look that plainly said 'Why the fuck did you have to ask that?'
The old woman looked the gaunt man squarely in the eyes and replied, "We have not erected a headstone for Lavitz because that gravesite is sacred to us and we do not want everyone traipsing on up there and destroying the area. Besides, why does a mans life have to be summed up with a piece of stone?"
With that she turned and continued on to Bale with thoughts of her parents on her mind.