"He said something about a ship," Froskan says.  "And that you were dead."

"Ah, then he was probably an enemy marine or something. I'm a marine, ya know. He probably wasn't delusional, but thought I was dead."

(Sorry for the roll confusion. I entered the wrong proficiency bonus, tried to fix it, and it showed up as UNABLE TO PARSE DICE ROLL. I deleted it and rerolled. With the right bonus.) 

Insight: 7

Froskan buys it.

Reverie tilts her head in curiosity but she decides not to talk about it for awhile. Instead, she looks at the dead ogre for a moment. ”... Well, we will all know each other soon, won’t we? Everyone, at least, shouldn't we give a proper funeral for this ogre? She lost two of her children during the battle.”

"True, she does deserve that. Maybe we can bury her here?"

”I think it is okay. Will you help me to bury her?”

"Yeah. She deserves a proper burial. She was a mother. Who cared about her children. Does anyone have a shovel?"

”Or we can... Burn her body if we don't have a shovel.”

(Reverie has no shovel whoops ;-;)

"no, she deserves a send off. I happen to know not all mothers care for their children, and she did, so she deserves one. Maybe a Viking send off, where you set them on a boat and burn it?"

Reverie starts to think as she taps her chin with her index finger absentmindedly. ”... All right, but we need to find a boat and the lake or something if we are going to send her off in that way.” Now, she starts to trace her memory back if there was a lake around this place.

"Maybe someone knows Mold Earth? Or we can take her back to the caravan, and see if anyone has a shovel there."

Quote from VanderLegion >>

Froskan buys it.

 (Well... Let's say that Froskan suspects that there might be more to the story, but assumes that it is personal or embarrassing, rather than something like a malicious plot. You've only known Jack for a week. Maybe when more trust is built, Jack will share his past more freely.)

The ogre is a thousand pounds of greasy, blubbery flesh. That will make moving her... difficult. (OOC: There is forest wood nearby, plus the crappy dinner table and chairs in the bag of holding. Your battle is in a clear enough area that you don't have to worry about a forest fire.)

"How do you plan to carry her back to the caravan.  She's at LEAST twice the size of any of us.  And burying her would take a rather long time as well.  That's a large hole that would have to be dug.  A cremation seems like a perfectly appropriate send-off to me," Froskan says.

"Well, we would have to spread her ashes at the cabin. But she deserves more than that." Jack pulls out the chair from the bag of holding and attempts to put the ogre on it. "Reverie, can he think of any lakes nearby? This might do."

Quote from BoboBoombang >>

Jack pulls out the chair from the bag of holding and attempts to put the ogre on it.

 As Jack tries to get the ogre's head and left arm into the bag, his efforts remind him of one of his childhood playmates who tried mashing a square peg into a round hole.

He also pauses when he hears straining noises coming from the fabric of the magic bag. There is a manufacturer's magic-user's tag sown into the opening of the bag, which mentions: "Carrying capacity less than 500 lbs."

(Edit: Or did you mean the chair, when you said "on it"? The first paragraph still applies, as the ogre's upper body is a few hundred pounds of literal "dead weight". And the chair falls apart as the ogre's left arm is dropped on it.)

Reverie hums as she listens to Froskan and Jack’s words. ”Froskan is right. She is more than twice the size of us and is extremely heavy for us to carry. Jack, I think it would be better for us and her to be burn in this place. At least, her spirit will be roaming free with her children.”

Jack puts her down. "Fine. Well now we got firewood. Does anyone know any funeral prayers or things like that, to give a proper send off??" 

(Yes I meant the chair. Why would I try to put her in a bag? She deserves more than that, according to jack.)

(OOC: My bad, sorry Jack.)

As a cleric whose god is about rebirth and renewal, Af decides to give a few words at the funeral pyre. Unfortunately, the breeze whips around, the smoke and scents from the burning ogre blowing in your face. The smell... is horrific. "We didn't know her name, and her soul will be burning on one of the layers of the Abyss. But at least she will have her two half-ogre sons to keep her company. Amen!" He decides to keep it short, so that your group can run away before you are forced to puke.

You make it back to the caravan before it departs at noon. The wagons and the local village have been repaired, and the people mostly recovered from yesterday's attack. You tell what happened to the leader of the caravan scouts/guards (Bommie the water genasi). She will pass on that information to the civil authorities, and arrange for the stolen personal effects to be returned. (OOC: The reward money will be given in a lump sum when the caravan reaches the city of Nunkreet, to make things simpler.)

The caravan continues traveling along the Primus Road, with a few detours to trade with nearby towns and villages. You notice that the caravan stays off the Road at night. One of the merchants in your wagon explains, "The Road can be damaged (with great difficulty), but somehow repairs itself overnight. But people have sometimes... disappeared... when the Road is active. Although those accidents are very rare, it is just safer to stay off the Road when you aren't moving."

The trip has finally become peaceful. This evening is the 19th of Autumn Thirdmoon. Tomorrow is the 9th day of the caravan's trip, and you will be outside the city of Nunkreet.

(Have we burned the bandit's body yet?)