“I really need to learn when dead is dead.”

Duffy Bracken stood overlooking the Duala steppes with his hands on his hips and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Time and time again the bard had gazed out at a bleak horizon and pondered his nature, and time and time again his nature had eluded him.

“Oh come on, Duffy. For once, don’t worry about the why and just concentrate on the how.”

“How I’m going to survive the heart of a volcano, you mean?”

Bard rolled eyes at bastard, and together they burst into a harmonious and brotherly chuckle. Arden felt relief as they finally broke the awkward silence that had surrounded them for leagues. Slowly but surely they were rebuilding bridges.

“It’s your idea to draw on the Tap Duffy. I never said it was going to be easy.” Arden unfolded his arms and dropped them to his sides. His instincts told him they would soon be on the march. “I promised to support you fulfilling your dreams so I will do everything I can to help.”

Duffy had to smile and nod with thanks. For centuries, the Tantalum troupe had given their lives time and time again (and so much more) for the ‘greater good’. Today things would be different. Today, when the sun set across the demon marred plains of Tular, the bard would get everything he deserved in his infinite lives.

“Let’s get moving,” he said reluctantly as he put one foot forward.