The tale of The Pale Lady and Jerky

"So let me get this straight. You want me to follow you? And write and sing songs about you as you travel? And you'll pay me a gold piece a day to do this?"

Mort nods gravely

"So when do we start, Ser Grey?"

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By the time Mort reached the fort of The Order of the Nail, he had accumulated quite the entourage. There was Sheer, the human bard (who was extolling the virtues of Mortimer in a battle he had never actually been in), Holly and Molly, the gnomish bodybuilding twins, a three legged cow named Limpy, thirteen chickens and a rooster, and a pale lady on a white horse.

The Pale Lady was softly spoken lady of advancing years, who Mort found to be incredibly morbid. Perhaps she was just fearing her own imminent death, but all of her conversations eventually ended up back there.


"That's a nice scythe. Where did you get it?"

"Which one? I have two you know" he said. You can almost feel Morts pride flex a bicep

"I have heard of Dacris. I'm interested in the other one"

Mort perks up "Oh, I call it Mothers Kiss. I bought it off some dickheads. I redesigned it myself though, it used to look all boring and stuff."

"I see. I suppose you kill a lot of people with that scythe"

"That's sort of the idea. It isn't there just to chop my jerky you know. Although it does that well as well"

Sometimes you either question what Mort says, or just roll with it. After a moment, the Pale Lady decided on the latter. "Why do you fight? Aren't you afraid you're going to die?"

"I've died before. No big deal. It always gets fixed"

"Your death gets 'fixed'?"

"Yea. People chant things and wave things around and it gets fixed. Except Laniss, he died and we couldn't fix it."

The Pale Lady pauses for a moment. "Maybe he isn't actually dead... But anyway, isn't your death something you are afraid of?"

Mort shrugs. "No, not really. I mean, I may die one day, but that isn't today's problem"

"So tell me then Orcling, what problem today is more important than death?"

"I'm trying to work out if a three legged cow makes better jerky than a 4 legged cow. You see, a three and four legged cow both have the same amount of soul material, but a three legged cow has less body material, so the tasty soul material should be more concentrated. So it should taste tastier." Mort was gesticulating so enthusiastically by this point he almost slipped from his horse. Perhaps it is time for some ranks in ride.

"If I understand your meaning then, death is indeed today's problem. It just isn't your death that your thoughts dwell on"

Mort thinks for a few moments before replying "I guess so. Food is death, and death is food. So sayeth this wise Greylorian"

"I suspect there are entire religions that would be mortally offended by that comparison..."


It was a long journey.