Ordovis sat peacefully upon his knees before the propped up corpse of his fallen comrade. He was motionless with his head held in a respectful bow. At his side lie his greatsword and he reached for it when he heard footsteps. Slowly, the dejected man turned to look over his shoulder at the stranger who dared approach. "This tomb shalt house thy c'rpse if 't be true thee stayeth any longeth'r. Turneth and begone. This is nay lodging f'r thee..." His grip upon his sword grew tighter, but his gruff voice held no anger; no malice. Ordovis began to rise to his feet while a large elegant tail appeared behind him; shining with forgotten gold.