Barogey and Kyhaber had fallen into step behind the crowd that had recently departed the town, heading off in search of the gnome's supposedly deceased daughter.
"Tell me, how exactly does one of the chief scientists of the Fanock project end up as a backwater friar?" Barogey asked, his walking stick tapping the ground as he hobbled forward.
"You see, my dear friend, I can't say precisely what drew me to this life of simple truths," Kyhaber replied, his voice calm and measured. "But I do believe there's a purpose to it all. Perhaps the best way to explain is with a quote from the Tablet of the Moon God."
Kyhaber's hands moved in subtle gestures, his tone taking on a rhythmic quality as he reached into a leather pouch on his belt and pulled out a scroll. With deliberate care, he unfurled it and began to read with eloquence:
You walked yourself to a hillside
And under a great willow tree
Placed a stone,
And there you took to one knee.
'You said:
God, why must you lie?
Why must you test me and not command?
Why must I be as I am?
Hell, you say you cannot send me,
But to your refuge, I cannot near.
My eyes could never meet yours,
And my heart could never hold.'
God did not speak, for He never does.
And so, you sat.'
"Well, Kyhaber, I couldn't say that the tablet of the Moon God seemed all that pleased with Jupiter," Barogey remarked as he and Kyhaber stepped aboard a large sailboat owned by the gnome leading the crowd.
"No, my friend, you misunderstood. You'd see the full picture after the second verse. But perhaps we could save this discussion for a campfire," Kyhaber replied with a laugh.
When the sailboat reached the shore, a wooden plank was lowered, allowing passengers to descend from the deck to the ground.
"Say, why didn't you bring your daughter's body into Tabnoth? I mean, didn't you think she might have been saved with proper medical care?" a man in the crowd asked the gnomish father leading them.
"Well, Oinos, did you happen to know any hospitals in Tabnoth?" the father retorted, removing his cap from his balding ginger head to wipe away sweat. His eyes glistened with tears, and his voice wavered as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Bartholome, we could have tried to do something. Surely someone in the town knew some medicine."
"Bah! You're all uneducated—don't make a fool of me!" Bartholome snapped, his face flushed and sweaty. His eyes narrowed and teared up, his nose flaring with a sniffle.
"Now, now, Mr. Bartholome," Kyhaber interjected, patting the gnomish father on the shoulder. "I am quite well-versed in medicine. That was an unwise judgment on your part. Nonetheless, this was a devastating tragedy, and we shouldn't be blaming each other."
Kyhaber then lagged behind the crowd to rejoin Barogey.
Barogey watched as Kyhaber brought a closed fist to his mouth, unfurled his fingers, pressed his palm against his lips, and licked it.