"Marcus, Irene, it's your choice. Bury your father here against the priest's objections, look for another priest or just throw him down to the sands." He looks for some input from the two. They've been very quiet since everyone entered the church and he cannot really say that's a good thing, considering the situation. "Though, if you choose to head to the other priest, if his church is not nearby, it seems like night might fall on us before we reach there. Make your choice."

Cormac looks at the priest and sighs before shaking his head and moving over to the others. "The man ain't right in the head. It is a good thing we put that thing to rest. If it had escaped I think we all know what woulda happened."

"Place sacred at time once ago." Kronk states ask he regards the wrecked being crumbled form that once was 'Donald'. "But a hollow shell that is," pointing to the priest, "inside dead, outside soon to follow. Dead deader feeding the wyrms should be. We onward should be moving." He cock his iron bar up onto his shoulder and looks at his companions, particularly at Isoldus, "Punishing that," indicating Donald, "necessary no more, is not here; interring that," he nodded toward the corpse, "time wasted, is rotting meat."

The Kirk siblings look down at the shattered priest for a long moment, before Irene looks up at you all.

”Well, ain’t this great. You had to go ahead and do the righteous thing, and now we don’t have a priest.” She pauses for a moment, and rubs her temples, sighing. “No, I should have expected this was going to happen. We’ll have to go to Caiman, if we want to give him a proper burial. The town’s fortified, too, so it could be safe.”

"Listen girl would you want to deal with the guilt ya would feel fer that thing gettin loose when we could stop it? I've been around one of them that folks workin fer the Baron walked on a chain like ye would a dog. They would have it attack people either to teach a lesson or just fer the fun of it. I won't say more but ya can use yer imagination." Cormac says before he steps away and reaches into his bag for a pouch of tools, messing about with his hound.

"She's right, though. We could have just kept him locked there forever. Or... if nothing else, until after we got the body buried. Looking back, this was not such a good decision, leader." He directs the last word to Isoldus, in a rather mocking manner. "But anyway, I agree with the sack of meat here. Let's move on and leave this man for his own sorrow. There is nothing he can do to risk us at this point... probably."

Isoldus fixed Irene with a measured stare. "Understand this, Irene; this was not a matter of righteousness - it was a matter of ensuring the safety of the denizens scattered among the sands. Your brother hired us to guard you, Irene. I was willing to bury your father myself in order to expedite the journey. You are involving needless complications into ensuring your own survival - do you wish for my aid, or not?" Isoldus calmly asked, staring down towards their employer, arms crossed. "I am a Paladin. I am capable of setting your father to rest in the undercrofts of this church myself. Would such an offer suffice?" 

Isoldus barely bothered to acknowledge Hugeo's attempt at a jab. "We have already settled on escorting you to Caiman or somewhere of similar defense. Ask yourself this, Irene - is your own life more valuable than the sentiment of your deceased father's? I defend the living, Irene, not for the dignity of the already dead." 

Isoldus finally raised a brow and turned towards Hugeo, voice assuming a hint of amusement. "Mind your tongue, automaton. I am more than capable of providing the sacred rites the priest could have bestowed. The issue lies solely within our client - if you believed, for even one moment, allowing the undead to continue its existence, you have already failed the primary task of a leader; ensuring the safety of his followers." 

Irene lets out a long sigh, her ordinarily unemotive expression twitching ever so slightly, as Isoldus speaks. 

"And this, dragonborn," she mutters, only a little bit to herself, "is why we prefer kindly old priests like the fella you just broke, over sword-flailin', fire and brimstone megalomaniacs." She looks up at Isoldus, her jaw tight and scowl apparent. "If you'd be willin' to stay with the corpse and renew your magic every week, then by all means do so, I think we'd all be glad to be free of your constant instruction. What, did you think you just cast the spell once, and you never have to again? Now, since it's myself and my brother's money that's apparently fundin' my safety, I believe that makes us more the leaders of this little job than you, no? Shouldn't I have a say in my own protection? Now, because as you so sagely said, it's a leader's duty to ensure the safety of her followers, I believe that in order to avoid anyone getting hurt, we should go now."

Completely taken aback by his sister's sudden bout of imperiousness, Marcus mutters his surprised assent. "Uhh... yeah, what she said, I guess."

(Just to be entirely clear, this isn't an attack by The Humbug against PlumPie, it's an attack by the character of Irene Kirk against the character Isoldus Zrashasi, you're very cool and epic, Irene just doesn't like getting ordered around :D)

One of Isoldus's brows slowly raised over his scaled, unreadable expression. He patiently awaited the conclusion of Irene's outburst before replying. Many a time had he dealt with an impetuous employer. In response, Isoldus's rumbled voice maintained the same tone he had affected - polite, respectful, yet decisive. "You have provided payment for protection, and it is the service I offer best - particularly against the nature of creatures which threatens these realms. You have paid for my expertise, and in return, I offer my insights, unfiltered and upsetting as they may be. My responsibility in this contract is keeping you alive, not appealing to your whims - though, even if it opposes my instinct and recommendation, I am not one to complain if the two must align. You will have your way, Irene. I respect the tenets of the agreement, though I warn you - I speak from experience. I advise you reconsider your priorities." Isoldus kneeled and treated Irene to a respectful bow - a courtesy earned from his training. Come to think of it, Isoldus hadn't seen anyone else reflect the gesture in the deserts. Without another moment wasted, Isoldus stood and began the process of figuring out the logistics of ferrying a body to the next city over. 

Once the outburst from Irene and response from Isoldus is over and the silence weighs heavily in the air for a moment, it is cut by a slow, lingering, and purposefully dour melody being played from outside of the church, somewhat muted by the large wooden doors.

"Ye could just do the rights and then bury the body under stone like me ma's people used ta do. Or if worse comes to worse ye could burn it. Not the normal way I know but without the body there foes ya worryin about him coming back undead and all that." Cormac offers up once he feels things have settled a bit, perhaps not the best at dealing with realizing when it is better to stay quiet.

« Things struggle in sand, forth and back, over one contest signals beginning of next. Only iron living strong out here, » Kronk waves his huge hand, indicating the sands that surrounds them. « Aloneness and uncooperativeness be death here. Saying piece is good but, final word leader’s is. »

"Don't worry, I'll leave the leading for others. Too much arguing, too little doing, in my opinion. Same as we do now. I'm taking Irene's side this time. Let's head out." He moves next to the body, ready to help carry it. He eyes Irene for a moment, quietly, then looks away towards the exit, waiting for the others to help him carry the body through it.

"Umm..." Marcus speaks up, as his sister takes a moment to calm down. "If we're all done here, we should go. The sun's dippin', and we don't wanna be stuck here for the night. It's best that we move away from this town, and quick. I can lead us down to my father's train. It's old, and hasn't run for many years, but it should work."

Winchester looks back and forth between the motley crew, then fabricates another cigar from somewhere in the seemingly multitudinous array of pockets hidden inside his leather coat. After lighting it up, he walks over to Hugeo and mumbles, well audible, "Done dilly dallyin' around I presume, eh. Back to the bodies then." He grabs whatever limbs remain to be carried to move the man lying on the ground and then looks up, grinning at Marcus with a loot of teeth showing, while drawing on the cigar. "Lead on then, Master Employer..."

"Trains are generally a superior method for travel, I'm all for it." Hugeo's voice definitely sounds more excited than usual. Been a while since he rode an actual train. "Besides, a train is less prone to attacks from the Baron's creatures... if the sand monsters don't bother you." He chuckles from his joke, the sound of it metallic and distorted. 

"If ya need it fixed give me a bit of time and I think I can make it run." Cormac offers up as the train is mentioned.

Marcus nods, and gives one final glance to the priest before opening the door and exiting. He leads the group through the town, back towards the house, the mayor's heavy body in tow. Instead of crossing the bridge, however, he leads you all to a small, rickety lift off the side of the thumb. The lift leads down, about halfway down the wastebone, where it stops in front of a small tunnel bored into its side. The tunnel spirals downwards, lit by a lantern held in Marcus' hand. Eventually, it opens up into a larger chamber, which appears to open up into the Sands. A miniature railport is built into the cavern, in which rests a single, rather rusty train, with only a few cars.

"Well... this is it. She's a little rusty, but she'll do the job."

Winchester looks up at the train and, dropping the mayors body as he takes in the sight of the train, whistles in appreciation. Realizing his mistake he quickly bends down and picks up the arms he was holding, pretending he never let go of them in the first place. "Sweet ride ya got there. She fine taking off right away, or do we need to show 'er some love first?" he asks, eyes sparkling, with a new enthusiasm in his demeanor as if he'd be rubbing his hands together to go to work right now....if he wasn't still holding that pesky corpse.

"I've been making preparations during the day, we should be good to go whenever. We were planning on getting out of here regardless, with or without protection."