"Dearly beloved," the mole priest adjusted his glasses, looking at the small casket, surrounded by candles, on which were balanced a curved sword, a small shield and an empty helm, "we now commend the soul and mortal remains of the warrior, Berry Town the Shrew, to his final rest. Born free, captured and enslaved, freed, took down his old slave master. A small shrew, with a great heart. He had a great many adventures, but most of all, he was a valued by his friends who mourn him here today; and his cousin Abi Berry the Shrew, who will miss him dearly. May the Great Mother be with you all." He closed up his holy book and gestured to the assembled creatures of The Free Beasts of the Well of Ashes, "If you care to join us in the Tithe Barn, we will have a few nibbles and drinks to toast his spirit being, at last, at rest." The gang, dressed in their funeral clothes, solemnly trooped through to the barn. Weapons and equipment had been safely stored. A fine sp...