A new soul arrived in the Boneyard, freshly arrived and with a bit of a shout. He'd reached to his breast, then felt his hands, eyes, and face. Upon looking around, he quickly recognized that life was over for him. He'd died, and it'd been in the line of duty at that. He sighed, relieved, his thoughts unbothered. 

"At least I managed to vanquish those evildoers before I perished.... Blasted curses took me down not long after."

He'd been placed at the back of the line, it seemed. Assumedly, everyone went to the back at first then. He was about to move forward, he'd been a devout servant to the gods in life, however, he felt like he couldn't do so first, without looking for other faithfuls. So that they all may proceed together. As he moved within the line, however, trying to find familiar faces, a hand fell upon his shoulder. He turned to face the owner and found another man before him. Someone who looked somewhat familiar but whose face he couldn't place. His counterpart before him seemed to think the same thing. They both stared into each other's faces for some time, before eventually words were spoken. 

"Where have we met before?" came the voice of the man whose hand rested upon the other's shoulder.

The faithful man responded, "I'm not sure.. perhaps, somewhere back on the prime?"

"Hmm, perhaps going back through our memories would help... How'd you die?" 

"Ah, It all happened so fast.. and yet, so slow."

"Do you remember where you were?'

Stolen novel; please report.

"Ah yes, I was fighting at the scar of the world."

"Oh! Me too.. perhaps, what else do you remember?"

"I was surrounded, you see. I was fighting for my life, cutting down my enemies as best as I could.. However, one caught me with a dagger. I believe it was cursed, or similar. I succame to the curse after I vanquished them all." the faithful recounted. 

"A cursed dagger..." Silence for a few moments, before mocking laughter came up from the man. "Ha! So you kicked the bucket after all, you clown! Oh how, I only wish Baphomet had given me the strength to see you fall to that!" 

The faithful man's eyes widened, before his words exited his lips in a rage, while he brushed his hand off his shoulder. "It was you! You cultist swine! I should smite you were you stand in the name of Iomedae!" 

"Already did, asshat! Oh, that's rich! What I would've given to see your eyes go dim in that moment!" The cultist grinned, seeing as his blade had finished the job before him. 

"...Hmph, that may be the case, but watching your and your compatriots heads roll was worth it. Especially since you were all that remained in that search quadrant." The faithful man responded, a smirk on his face. "Your evil was defeated. I'd say that's a victorious outcome for me... Especially since, unlike you, I went out for a just-" 

The cultist loudly yawned. "Justice, Shmustice, shut up, you just bitch."

The faithful man took in a deep breath, holding himself back from slapping the cultist on the spot. Instead, he simply stepped out of line. 

"At least, I am rewarded for my service, by the gods, unlike you, you demon worshipper. I will be heading to my Lady Iomedae's domain, while you wait for eons in this line. Do try not to lose your head again, you neck seems almost as loose as your tongue." The faithful man grins and walks off while the cultist shouts obscenities at him from his position in line.