Encounterlogs
Viktorins Odd Encounter Sr Jodie 240307
On an overcast morning, Viktorin, a young demigod accustomed to the dangers lurking within the forests of Haven, embarks on a journey that intertwines his fate with that of a mysterious ghost boy. Amidst the wildlife and the constant threat of manticores and other mystical creatures, Viktorin's curiosity is piqued by a brightly colored winter jacket in a clearing – a beacon drawing him into an encounter with the unknown. The jacket belongs to a corpse, a scene of tragedy marked by the violence of an animal attack, yet the body remains untouched by scavengers. This anomaly is overshadowed by the sudden appearance of an exuberantly talkative young boy, brimming with questions and an unsettling enthusiasm for the grim scene.
As the conversation between Viktorin and the boy - who introduces himself as Bradley - unfolds, it becomes evident that there is a deeper connection between the child and the deceased. Despite the boy's initially macabre interest in seeing the body consumed by wolves, Viktorin convinces him of the dignity in a proper farewell, leading to a decision to cremate the corpse. With Bradley's eager help, they gather materials for the fire, during which Viktorin discovers the true tragedy: the boy is the lingering spirit of the man, killed in a brutal yet unexplained attack. Through a solemn ritual flavored with ancient prayers and personal sacrifice, Viktorin offers the spirit of Bradley Stenson a path to rest, marking his grave with words of remembrance and leaving behind the ashes of a soul finally at peace.
(Viktorin's odd encounter(SRJodie):SRJodie)
[Wed Mar 6 2024]
In The Forest
It is morning, about 29F(-1C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target encounters a ghost who's fixated on some past tragedy from their life, they need to either give the spirit some sense of closure, or send it on it's way through more violent means.
)
It's the typical morning in early spring for Haven. It's a bit too cold to forgo a coat and the sun hides behind the dark grey stormclouds that cover Haven two thirds of the year. Viktorin has made his way to the forest, likely practicing hunting.
As he moves, the occasional rustle in a bush or sound of a bird chirping in the distance gives life to the forest. Nothing seems particularly amiss for someone well versed in the woods.
With cautious steps and a barely brave heart, the young demigod wanders through the woods, only taking a small detour from the road. There's danger that lurks, slipping between trees, always hunting. At the sighting of a manticore, Viktorin would slip to the road. And then back into the woods once it was safe again to wander. Continuously this posed itself as a pattern, with the Czech padding away at the first sign of something he couldn't handle, only to return when the coast was clear. Safe. Cautious. Wary. Those seemed to be the tenements the man lived by in this moment. And so, he continued, up and down the roads, taking a very selective route to avoid accidentally traipsing into the nearby gate. "One manticore. Two... I think they're zombies? Four giant rats. One kobold. Two frog people... and three golden hounds. Wonder what else is out here?" Viktorin asks, mostly to himself.
The wildlife of Haven is well trained to stay off the roads as any that venture onto them are often shot and killed quickly. This lends Viktorin some security while he makes his way. But if you step off the road, anything can get you. As Viktorin moves they glimpse something through the trees, its not a creature, its not even moving. But it does not belong, something, or someone seems to be laying in a clearing. The bright blue of their winter jacket is what really catches the eye.
Demigods are oft filled with unwavering pride. Or arrogance. That they were untouchable. This also seemed to be the case for Viktorin, as he took note of the bright blue and decidedly lumbered towards it. He didn't move without caution however, and with his rifle in hand, he slipped between this tree and that, dodging away into the overgrowth where he could. Lips were twisted into a gradual frown. Eyes shone with alarm, caution, and hints of compassion. Along with a desperation as the man further noted that whatever was there, seemed to be laying down. Perhaps in trouble. And so he continued forth, as quietly as he could...
Approaching the laying figure tells a story. The grass of the clearing is trampled flat and some of it is stained with dried blood. The person is revealed as a corpse, a rather old corpse as the cheeks and eyes are sunken and dried out. Which is unusual since it's likely a corpse in the forest would be consumed by creatures in short order and not left to dessicate.
Various rips and wounds establish that the man was killed by some sort of beast done with claws and teeth but still, he the body wasn't consumed by the animal that killed them. Suggesting he was killed for sport.
"Whoa is that a dead guy?!" a voice says, youthful and brimming with childish excitement.
Pity overwhelms the Czech as he gazes at the corpse, trailing the trampled dirt and the dried blood. "Sorry dude. Sometimes it's the way the dice fall. Let's get you buried... or burned. The dead should be respected," he murmurs softly, taking a few more steps into the trampled clearing. "They did a number on you. Killed you and then left you. Didn't even return you to some cycle of life..." As the voice rises, Viktorin blinks immediately, flickering his gaze towards the voice with a 'what-the-fuck?' look on his face. It was one thing to hear a random passerby in town. Another in the isolated bum-fuck middle of nowhere. However concern seemed to nag at the demigod's eyes, and he takes a step or two to the corpse. "Who's there? Show yourself?" the man murmurs to the wind.
Standing to the left of Viktorin as if he was always there is a young boy. Maybe ten. He looks upon the corpse with Viktorin with amazement. "What do you think happened?" he says childishly. He seems pretty fearless, and with a moments thought it is odd he's all the way out here in just basic clothing. In a way he looks very similar, but a younger version of the corpse. Brown haired, brown eyes, same facial shape. Like a son or relative.
There's a moment taken to pause and gaze at the boy. Mostly in bewilderment. Gently, the Czech answers the child, starting with a small smile. "Sometimes it's best not to look at these sorts of things. You'll end up remembering it forever. It'll haunt your dreams and stuff," Viktorin tells them. Slowly, steadily, he kneels by the corpse, gazing sorrowfully at them. "If you still want to stay... well. This guy seemed to be got by some monsters. I can't really tell, because he's been here for a while. And I'm no doctor either. It's a bit sad really. Can't imagine being out here all alone. Dying." Lifting his gaze, he asks the young boy, "What's your name, kid? You can call me Vik."
"Bradley." The boy says to Viktorin. When the man kneels by the corpse he gets more detail of the wounds, far beyond what any manticore would do. Laying aside the corpse is a wallet that becomes more visible as Viktorin gets closer. "Bradley Stenson." he says cheerly.
"You think it was wolves? Wolves are so cool, I hear them howling sometimes." the boy says, a bit too chipper for the situation.
As Viktorin spots the wallet, he gently tells the boy near him, "It's nice to meet you, Bradley." And then a question, "What's brought you out to this neck of the woods?" With these words uttered, he doesn't continue to gaze at the boy, instead, he opens the wallet. Slowly he searches it, looking for any identification. "Probably been a while since this's been left here. Hopefully we can identify the guy." Turning his gaze sympathetically towards the kid, he asks them, "You got any parents, kid? Anyone you're staying with, in Haven?"
Looking through the wallet Viktorin finds no money, just a coupon for Giovanni's pizza thats long expired and an Ohio drivers license with a much better picture of the man than what he looks like now. Its the name that is striking. It's 'Bradley Stenson' and reveals his age to be forty.
"What am I doing here? I wanted to see a wolf!" the boy says excitedly. But he's suddenly to the right of Viktorin, switching sides in a blink without walking around him.
Viktorin turns whilst he's crouched, raising the wallet with the ID to compare that between the child before him. He wasn't too startled by the sudden change of positions, but his face did alight in suspicion. "Mm. Wolves," he comments, "Don't really live around here. No, instead, there's a more dangerous type of wolf. One with the heart of man. And sometimes, they can be utterly heartless." He gazes at the child, searching their face, attempting to assume an air of serenity. "Tell me about yourself, Bradley. What do you enjoy doing? Where're you from?" A pause. "I prefer stags myself. They're graceful creatures. They stand for fortitude. Strength. Grace. Nobility."
There isn't even a remote chance that the boy before Viktorin is not simply a younger version of the picture of the ID. "Stags are not as cool." the boy admits then he answers the question in a rambling sort of way, "I like car racing, I like wolves, I like my game boy, I like soccer.." he goes on for a bit longer then he ask Viktorin, "So. do you think the wolves will come back to eat the rest of him so we can see?"
There's a small, sad smile, wistful, that graces the man's face. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I don't think the wolves will come back. They might... but it seems they really only attacked this guy for fun. The world can be cruel that way." Turning his gaze over the corpse, he asks the child, "Do you mind helping me with something, Bradley?" The frown emerges then, whilst he's not facing the kid who was a man before, or at least the man before him. "We're going to give this man a proper burial. Or a bonfire. Unless you really think he's better off eaten by wolves. Then maybe we can see about drawing them over." Viktorin mulls over his thoughts, murmuring softly, "Your choice, kiddo."
With some conflict evident on the boys face because what young boy wouldn't want to see a corpse eaten by animals, he agrees to help, "Maybe your right. I guess we should bury him.." he smiles then to dispel the disappointment that was on his face then he says, "What should I do?"
Viktorin slowly stands, looking around the body for any particularly large sticks. "Well... in lieu of a shovel, we're gonna have to dig a hole with sticks. Or we can burn him. It's a bit unorthodox for people over here, but burning bodies and offering a prayer can send them to heaven too. In that case, we just need a bunch of dry twigs, grass, etcetera. Then we'll place it upon the man here, and we'll send him off with a prayer." he glances back at the kid, murmuring, "Entirely your choice, kid. You found him first, right?" He gives a small smile, watching what he believes to be a ghost for a moment, and then bobs his head.
"Whoa, yeah lets set him on fire!" the boy exclaims enthusiastically. The idea of watching a dead body burn seems immensely exciting for the young boy who seems not to understand the spiritual aspect of what Viktorin is talking about.
Viktorin nods briefly to the boy, giving a light chuckle. "Alright, are you able to fetch twigs and dry grass for me? I'm going to see if this guy has a lighter on him. If not, we're gonna have to carve up a few sticks and then use it as a fire-starter. Friction and all that. Isn't that interesting?" Bending over, and covering his nose with a hand, he begins to search the man's jacket. And then his pants for a lighter. Carefully, he turns his head to glance at the boy, watching him occasionally. "Don't run too far off," he mumbles through his hand.
There is a pack of patches and some cigarettes on the body for Viktorin to use and when the man turns his back on the boy, within seconds from behind he says, "Got them!" and he stands there proudly with more sticks and twigs than he could possibly gather in such a short time.
Viktorin huffs, laying out a good portion of the cigarettes like kindling upon the corpse. Gesturing over towards the child, he murmurs, "Now, place it upon the man. Just like I did with these cigs." He bobs his head, trying to find some comfort in the uncomfortable. After all, he was just scant meters away from the spirit of the corpse he was attempting to burn. "Now let's see about using some sticks as a fire-starter." Selecting a few choice sticks here and there, he grabs his dagger and grunts, using it for the very thing it was not meant to be used for, dulling his blade as he splits a rather long stick in half. With the rest of the cigarettes, he places it upon the halved stick, before shoving the end of a stick upon the center. Hands clasp around the stick, and he rolls it in his hand, back and forth, back and forth, occasionally blowing. "When you're done, watch this. Isn't this cool," the Czech says, between breaths.
Crouching to watch, the boy waits patiently while Viktorin shows him how to make fire. It does take a little time but eventually the kindling catches smoke, then soon flame. "So cool." the boy says. Watching with interest. At some point he deposited the flammable material on the corpse, but only when Viktorin wasn't watching and it only took a blink of an eye. "You are really cool."
Viktorin crinkles his eyes and softens his expression at the boy. "Thanks, kiddo. Now, we'll have to carefully carry the kindling to the fire... lest it goes out," he tells the kid, his tone ever-so-soft. There was an immediate fondness expressed towards the spirit, something that seemingly spawned from the short interaction. "While I do that, tell me more about yourself. What else do you like? What's your favorite food? Your favorite color?" He takes cautious, careful steps forward, carrying the small little fire forward, lowering himself with only his legs, to place the kindling upon the fuel to get the fire going further.
Rambling on the boy goes over all the foods a boy might like, Pizza, ice cream. Essentially nothing healthy. The fire catches easily and within a minute or so the corpse is consumed with flame. Somewhere along this the boys voice fades, still recounting foods he likes until eventually the sound is gone and so is the boy. The corpse burns for some time until its naught by ash and bone and Viktorin is left alone after successfully putting the spirit to rest.
There's small prayers that go directed at the burning corpse. Small, heartfelt prayers. "Black One, who lashed the moon for its crime of youth. Black one, who fights the day, to establish night. Please accept the soul of Bradley Stenson. He has suffered cruelty for his sin of life, for his sin of youth. Let his payment rest where it is. Let him wander the wintery forests of your domain. Do this for me, ancestor, please, so that we may rekindle the order of death in a world that no longer respects it." Turning his dagger to his hand, he gently pricks his index finger, holding it out to the fire to let a few drops land upon the corpse as it burns to ash. "Here lies Bradley Stenson. He liked cars, gameboys, wolves, and other such things that boys are oft attuned to. Let him rest in peace forever." After his impromptu and unorthodox ceremony, Viktorin steps back, and with a small, sad smile, he approaches the road, leaving the ashes behind him.
As the conversation between Viktorin and the boy - who introduces himself as Bradley - unfolds, it becomes evident that there is a deeper connection between the child and the deceased. Despite the boy's initially macabre interest in seeing the body consumed by wolves, Viktorin convinces him of the dignity in a proper farewell, leading to a decision to cremate the corpse. With Bradley's eager help, they gather materials for the fire, during which Viktorin discovers the true tragedy: the boy is the lingering spirit of the man, killed in a brutal yet unexplained attack. Through a solemn ritual flavored with ancient prayers and personal sacrifice, Viktorin offers the spirit of Bradley Stenson a path to rest, marking his grave with words of remembrance and leaving behind the ashes of a soul finally at peace.
(Viktorin's odd encounter(SRJodie):SRJodie)
[Wed Mar 6 2024]
In The Forest
It is morning, about 29F(-1C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Your target encounters a ghost who's fixated on some past tragedy from their life, they need to either give the spirit some sense of closure, or send it on it's way through more violent means.
)
It's the typical morning in early spring for Haven. It's a bit too cold to forgo a coat and the sun hides behind the dark grey stormclouds that cover Haven two thirds of the year. Viktorin has made his way to the forest, likely practicing hunting.
As he moves, the occasional rustle in a bush or sound of a bird chirping in the distance gives life to the forest. Nothing seems particularly amiss for someone well versed in the woods.
With cautious steps and a barely brave heart, the young demigod wanders through the woods, only taking a small detour from the road. There's danger that lurks, slipping between trees, always hunting. At the sighting of a manticore, Viktorin would slip to the road. And then back into the woods once it was safe again to wander. Continuously this posed itself as a pattern, with the Czech padding away at the first sign of something he couldn't handle, only to return when the coast was clear. Safe. Cautious. Wary. Those seemed to be the tenements the man lived by in this moment. And so, he continued, up and down the roads, taking a very selective route to avoid accidentally traipsing into the nearby gate. "One manticore. Two... I think they're zombies? Four giant rats. One kobold. Two frog people... and three golden hounds. Wonder what else is out here?" Viktorin asks, mostly to himself.
The wildlife of Haven is well trained to stay off the roads as any that venture onto them are often shot and killed quickly. This lends Viktorin some security while he makes his way. But if you step off the road, anything can get you. As Viktorin moves they glimpse something through the trees, its not a creature, its not even moving. But it does not belong, something, or someone seems to be laying in a clearing. The bright blue of their winter jacket is what really catches the eye.
Demigods are oft filled with unwavering pride. Or arrogance. That they were untouchable. This also seemed to be the case for Viktorin, as he took note of the bright blue and decidedly lumbered towards it. He didn't move without caution however, and with his rifle in hand, he slipped between this tree and that, dodging away into the overgrowth where he could. Lips were twisted into a gradual frown. Eyes shone with alarm, caution, and hints of compassion. Along with a desperation as the man further noted that whatever was there, seemed to be laying down. Perhaps in trouble. And so he continued forth, as quietly as he could...
Approaching the laying figure tells a story. The grass of the clearing is trampled flat and some of it is stained with dried blood. The person is revealed as a corpse, a rather old corpse as the cheeks and eyes are sunken and dried out. Which is unusual since it's likely a corpse in the forest would be consumed by creatures in short order and not left to dessicate.
Various rips and wounds establish that the man was killed by some sort of beast done with claws and teeth but still, he the body wasn't consumed by the animal that killed them. Suggesting he was killed for sport.
"Whoa is that a dead guy?!" a voice says, youthful and brimming with childish excitement.
Pity overwhelms the Czech as he gazes at the corpse, trailing the trampled dirt and the dried blood. "Sorry dude. Sometimes it's the way the dice fall. Let's get you buried... or burned. The dead should be respected," he murmurs softly, taking a few more steps into the trampled clearing. "They did a number on you. Killed you and then left you. Didn't even return you to some cycle of life..." As the voice rises, Viktorin blinks immediately, flickering his gaze towards the voice with a 'what-the-fuck?' look on his face. It was one thing to hear a random passerby in town. Another in the isolated bum-fuck middle of nowhere. However concern seemed to nag at the demigod's eyes, and he takes a step or two to the corpse. "Who's there? Show yourself?" the man murmurs to the wind.
Standing to the left of Viktorin as if he was always there is a young boy. Maybe ten. He looks upon the corpse with Viktorin with amazement. "What do you think happened?" he says childishly. He seems pretty fearless, and with a moments thought it is odd he's all the way out here in just basic clothing. In a way he looks very similar, but a younger version of the corpse. Brown haired, brown eyes, same facial shape. Like a son or relative.
There's a moment taken to pause and gaze at the boy. Mostly in bewilderment. Gently, the Czech answers the child, starting with a small smile. "Sometimes it's best not to look at these sorts of things. You'll end up remembering it forever. It'll haunt your dreams and stuff," Viktorin tells them. Slowly, steadily, he kneels by the corpse, gazing sorrowfully at them. "If you still want to stay... well. This guy seemed to be got by some monsters. I can't really tell, because he's been here for a while. And I'm no doctor either. It's a bit sad really. Can't imagine being out here all alone. Dying." Lifting his gaze, he asks the young boy, "What's your name, kid? You can call me Vik."
"Bradley." The boy says to Viktorin. When the man kneels by the corpse he gets more detail of the wounds, far beyond what any manticore would do. Laying aside the corpse is a wallet that becomes more visible as Viktorin gets closer. "Bradley Stenson." he says cheerly.
"You think it was wolves? Wolves are so cool, I hear them howling sometimes." the boy says, a bit too chipper for the situation.
As Viktorin spots the wallet, he gently tells the boy near him, "It's nice to meet you, Bradley." And then a question, "What's brought you out to this neck of the woods?" With these words uttered, he doesn't continue to gaze at the boy, instead, he opens the wallet. Slowly he searches it, looking for any identification. "Probably been a while since this's been left here. Hopefully we can identify the guy." Turning his gaze sympathetically towards the kid, he asks them, "You got any parents, kid? Anyone you're staying with, in Haven?"
Looking through the wallet Viktorin finds no money, just a coupon for Giovanni's pizza thats long expired and an Ohio drivers license with a much better picture of the man than what he looks like now. Its the name that is striking. It's 'Bradley Stenson' and reveals his age to be forty.
"What am I doing here? I wanted to see a wolf!" the boy says excitedly. But he's suddenly to the right of Viktorin, switching sides in a blink without walking around him.
Viktorin turns whilst he's crouched, raising the wallet with the ID to compare that between the child before him. He wasn't too startled by the sudden change of positions, but his face did alight in suspicion. "Mm. Wolves," he comments, "Don't really live around here. No, instead, there's a more dangerous type of wolf. One with the heart of man. And sometimes, they can be utterly heartless." He gazes at the child, searching their face, attempting to assume an air of serenity. "Tell me about yourself, Bradley. What do you enjoy doing? Where're you from?" A pause. "I prefer stags myself. They're graceful creatures. They stand for fortitude. Strength. Grace. Nobility."
There isn't even a remote chance that the boy before Viktorin is not simply a younger version of the picture of the ID. "Stags are not as cool." the boy admits then he answers the question in a rambling sort of way, "I like car racing, I like wolves, I like my game boy, I like soccer.." he goes on for a bit longer then he ask Viktorin, "So. do you think the wolves will come back to eat the rest of him so we can see?"
There's a small, sad smile, wistful, that graces the man's face. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I don't think the wolves will come back. They might... but it seems they really only attacked this guy for fun. The world can be cruel that way." Turning his gaze over the corpse, he asks the child, "Do you mind helping me with something, Bradley?" The frown emerges then, whilst he's not facing the kid who was a man before, or at least the man before him. "We're going to give this man a proper burial. Or a bonfire. Unless you really think he's better off eaten by wolves. Then maybe we can see about drawing them over." Viktorin mulls over his thoughts, murmuring softly, "Your choice, kiddo."
With some conflict evident on the boys face because what young boy wouldn't want to see a corpse eaten by animals, he agrees to help, "Maybe your right. I guess we should bury him.." he smiles then to dispel the disappointment that was on his face then he says, "What should I do?"
Viktorin slowly stands, looking around the body for any particularly large sticks. "Well... in lieu of a shovel, we're gonna have to dig a hole with sticks. Or we can burn him. It's a bit unorthodox for people over here, but burning bodies and offering a prayer can send them to heaven too. In that case, we just need a bunch of dry twigs, grass, etcetera. Then we'll place it upon the man here, and we'll send him off with a prayer." he glances back at the kid, murmuring, "Entirely your choice, kid. You found him first, right?" He gives a small smile, watching what he believes to be a ghost for a moment, and then bobs his head.
"Whoa, yeah lets set him on fire!" the boy exclaims enthusiastically. The idea of watching a dead body burn seems immensely exciting for the young boy who seems not to understand the spiritual aspect of what Viktorin is talking about.
Viktorin nods briefly to the boy, giving a light chuckle. "Alright, are you able to fetch twigs and dry grass for me? I'm going to see if this guy has a lighter on him. If not, we're gonna have to carve up a few sticks and then use it as a fire-starter. Friction and all that. Isn't that interesting?" Bending over, and covering his nose with a hand, he begins to search the man's jacket. And then his pants for a lighter. Carefully, he turns his head to glance at the boy, watching him occasionally. "Don't run too far off," he mumbles through his hand.
There is a pack of patches and some cigarettes on the body for Viktorin to use and when the man turns his back on the boy, within seconds from behind he says, "Got them!" and he stands there proudly with more sticks and twigs than he could possibly gather in such a short time.
Viktorin huffs, laying out a good portion of the cigarettes like kindling upon the corpse. Gesturing over towards the child, he murmurs, "Now, place it upon the man. Just like I did with these cigs." He bobs his head, trying to find some comfort in the uncomfortable. After all, he was just scant meters away from the spirit of the corpse he was attempting to burn. "Now let's see about using some sticks as a fire-starter." Selecting a few choice sticks here and there, he grabs his dagger and grunts, using it for the very thing it was not meant to be used for, dulling his blade as he splits a rather long stick in half. With the rest of the cigarettes, he places it upon the halved stick, before shoving the end of a stick upon the center. Hands clasp around the stick, and he rolls it in his hand, back and forth, back and forth, occasionally blowing. "When you're done, watch this. Isn't this cool," the Czech says, between breaths.
Crouching to watch, the boy waits patiently while Viktorin shows him how to make fire. It does take a little time but eventually the kindling catches smoke, then soon flame. "So cool." the boy says. Watching with interest. At some point he deposited the flammable material on the corpse, but only when Viktorin wasn't watching and it only took a blink of an eye. "You are really cool."
Viktorin crinkles his eyes and softens his expression at the boy. "Thanks, kiddo. Now, we'll have to carefully carry the kindling to the fire... lest it goes out," he tells the kid, his tone ever-so-soft. There was an immediate fondness expressed towards the spirit, something that seemingly spawned from the short interaction. "While I do that, tell me more about yourself. What else do you like? What's your favorite food? Your favorite color?" He takes cautious, careful steps forward, carrying the small little fire forward, lowering himself with only his legs, to place the kindling upon the fuel to get the fire going further.
Rambling on the boy goes over all the foods a boy might like, Pizza, ice cream. Essentially nothing healthy. The fire catches easily and within a minute or so the corpse is consumed with flame. Somewhere along this the boys voice fades, still recounting foods he likes until eventually the sound is gone and so is the boy. The corpse burns for some time until its naught by ash and bone and Viktorin is left alone after successfully putting the spirit to rest.
There's small prayers that go directed at the burning corpse. Small, heartfelt prayers. "Black One, who lashed the moon for its crime of youth. Black one, who fights the day, to establish night. Please accept the soul of Bradley Stenson. He has suffered cruelty for his sin of life, for his sin of youth. Let his payment rest where it is. Let him wander the wintery forests of your domain. Do this for me, ancestor, please, so that we may rekindle the order of death in a world that no longer respects it." Turning his dagger to his hand, he gently pricks his index finger, holding it out to the fire to let a few drops land upon the corpse as it burns to ash. "Here lies Bradley Stenson. He liked cars, gameboys, wolves, and other such things that boys are oft attuned to. Let him rest in peace forever." After his impromptu and unorthodox ceremony, Viktorin steps back, and with a small, sad smile, he approaches the road, leaving the ashes behind him.