The vessel is freed. Lumbering. Tired. Hurt. Their legs moving on their own, their good hand loosely gripping their tarnished blade. You, a simple bug finally free to roam the Forgotten Crossroads, stumbles across such a sight. They stand despondent in a dim cavern, almost waiting for something. Head tilted back and staring at some emblem you vaguely recognize. Something drips from its eyes, knees giving out as the broken vessel falls. Something only described as sobbing comes from them, big heaving gasps of choked air escaping their crackling lungs. It was pathetic, pitiful. And you were a kind soul. So you approached, voice soft so as not to frighten the tall bug