Cursed The Graveyard Hero
A chilling mist lingered along the grounds of the ancient graveyard. Rusted gates and deep red trees bordered this timeworn graveyard, closing it off from from the world. It seemed to hide everything its enclosed space, creating a sacred place for the dead.
A dense sweet breeze stirred inside of this place, flying off the beatific flowers on a single grave. It was to be a new addition to the sacred graveyard. A new hero that fought bravely against whatever was causing the village harm. Monsters and evil villian always seemed to cause the village troubles, making problems for the collective community. Stealing, killing, nothing was above them it seems, and these young heros ventured out to stop their villainy.
But more should have come to this new heros grave, as only a measly 6 people showed up to grieve for this hero that fought so bravely. Even though the body wasn there yet, the ground of the grave should be filled with the civilian gratitudes.
The people who let some young soul go out and fight on their behave should at least grieve over the heros grave. But at most, when these brave heroes deaths are announced by the Heros Association, people should at least seem sad about it. What really happens is most of the people walking by in the town of Deapdenu only hold a blank expression on their face when hearing a new death. Some of the older generation should slight expression of sorrow, but everyone else just doesn seem to mind.
Then, when the bodies are transported to the graveyard, it was the job of the old gravedigger, Mors Shu, to bury the mutilated bodies of these brave heroes. Some even came with their broken sword strapped to their hands. After many years of being the gravedigger of the local cemetery for many years, Mors Shu had become used to seeing people ignoring these poor adventurers. There was usually a constant rate of about thirty heros dying per year, defending against whatever was out there.
They then come over to the cemetery in batches every month, since the Heros Association usually had to deal with something. Paperwork maybe? Mors didn know, nor did he really care with the Association since they never treated the dead body kindly. Usually stripping them of all valuable things, and piling them into a cart with all the things they didn view as valuable. Mostly memorabilia or broken weapons or armor, which Mors guarantees that he buries with these heros.
Also since he knows who has died in advanced, he can make the gravestones for these heros before they arrive at their final resting place. Always hoping that the souls of these heros approve of his preparations. Most people mock him for thinking that ghost exist, as heroes should just have moved on to a better existence. But Mors heavily believes the heroes continue to protect the village even after their bodies fail them.
Today was a new shipment of bodies to be buried. And the was meant to bury a staggering ten today. This was the highest delivery to date. So many had seemed to die recently, with the usual amount delivered being two to three. That was the usual, but ten had killed just in the last month. Had there been a monster nest raid, or was this month just a bad one? Mors questioned himself as he waited for the Associations carriage.
Standing by the corroded iron gate, Mors watched the shifting trees swayed gently in the clean breeze. The fallen golden leaves of the itia tree as they ran out of life, and wilted in the coming winter. Watching them fall, in his winter robes, Mors finally found the horse-pull carriage of bodies as it came over a hill.
Seeing the loosely piled stack of bodies on the cart, anger flashed inside of Mors before he took control of it. Turning his attention back to the thick crimson trees as to not view this disgrace. He would have run out there to fix this matter, but the guard would have pushed him back until they were at the gates, while also ”teaching ” him a lesson about manners.
Waiting for them to leisurely advance toward the rusted cemetery gates, anger started to escape Mors control as they seem to on a sight seeing adventure. No one seemed to respect the dead anymore Mors though to himself, as he paced back and forth.
Finally, they arrived before the gates and the driver hopped off the cart with a clipboard in his hands. Looking bored he looked toward the old Mors b
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