"Well you guys, I did it. I've gone and done something completely reckless," he said, before tipping the flash of whiskey back to take a drink. "Probably the most reckless thing I've done since joining the Silver Hands. Even more reckless than that time Darien got piss drunk and insulted the Knights of Providence in Helsmerch."

He chuckled. "You guys remember that? Running for our lives out of the city as those Paladins shouted 'Heretics!' and Darien kept hurling curses back at them? That was a crazy night. I still can't believe we didn't leave him behind to fend for himself."

"So, you guys probably want the details right? Well, you remember that farming village we stopped at? The one where Mark spent basically half the day talking to that old farmer about the soil and how the crops could use a little rain? I remember it. Sarah threatened to shoot him if we didn't get moving. Even when we got back on the road Mark kept going on about it."

Kain took another sip from the flask.

"Well, I bought a farm up there. It's ten acres of what the deed calls 'promising agricultural land.' Knowing my luck, that probably means it's overgrown, unusable, or half is just a cliff, but still.. it'll be mine."

He took another drink, and this time the whiskey burned a little in his gut.

"You know Mark, you'd love it. I'm going to be growing things, or at least trying."

"It's a good piece of land, from what I remember. Up north in Tillwind village. Quiet place. The kind where nothing much happens." He corked the flask, tucking it away. "Exactly what I need after... well, after everything. No more contracts. No more dungeons. No more gigs."

A hawk circled overhead and made a noise. Sarah would have known what kind it was. Knowing all the animals of the wild was kind of her thing.

"I can already hear what you'd say Darien if you visited." Kain dropped his voice low, "Finally! Some real food for my stews!"

Kain laughed again, this time feeling a tug and a spot of pain in his ribs. The healer had said they might never fully heal, the price of surviving a battle against a Wyvern.

"I had to use up most of the payment from it. Just my share, I had enough tucked away to put me over, not much left after that. I took care of the rest, it wasn't mine to begin with." He took another sip from the flask. "The rest is already on its way to the families. Sara's mom is getting a lot of it, figured nobody else would disagree. She'll be teaching kids how to protect themselves, how to stay safe, stay out of the life. Not everyone has people like you to watch out for them."

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Kain blinked, the sun was getting lower. He could see three different travel roads, a big reason they had chosen the Fist to be their rally point.

"It's got a great view," Sarah had said. "Easy to describe. Perfect place to regroup if we get separated."

"You guys should have seen what Darien was planning on opening. Had the whole thing mapped out already in some notes he'd doodle on when he thought nobody was watching. Floor plans, a menu, ideas, even a name. 'The Copper Kettle'."

"He was close to living that dream."

Kain took another sip of whiskey.

The flask was getting lighter. Mark's whiskey had always been the good stuff, saved for special occasions.

"It wasn't even supposed to be a hard job. Standard dungeon clear, the kind we'd done a hundred times. C-rank difficulty at most. Clear out the goblins." He rubbed his rib. "Nobody expects to find something like a Wyvern in a place like that. They don't usually come this far south."

Kain sighed and slumped over, resting his back against the stone.

"You all did everything right. It was perfect. As soon as we realized we were in over our heads, straight into retreat mode. We should have been fine, but it didn't happen that way. If the dungeon hadn't started to cave in, or if we'd been faster, turning around and getting out of there, who knows what would have happened."

"Who knows…" Kain sighed, "I can't live on what if's and if only."

The words came easier.

"The Wyvern was wounded already and had no reason being there, it wasn't an irregular either. It must have been driven out of its territory by something even bigger. That's the only reason I survived. You all already did the hardest part. Typical really, and I'm sorry for that. I got all the credit for finishing what you all started."

Kain closed his eyes, remembering.

"The only reason."

The sun was rapidly going down and Kain finally stood up with a grunt.

"Anyway, I just wanted you all to know where I'll be going. It's a long way from here to Tillwind, and once I get started farming, who knows when I'll get the chance to make it back here."

Kain placed his hand on the stone, feeling the names he'd had carved into its surface.

At the top, in bold letters: "The Silver Hands".

Below that, simple and clean:

Mark - 597 to 626 Darien - 594 to 626 Sarah - 599 to 626

"Just wanted to share one last drink before I have to turn towards the road," he explained. "Mark, you always said the good stuff was meant to be shared."

Carefully, he tipped the flask over and poured some out on the ground in front of the stone.

"I miss you all," he said, voice rough. "To the best damn company a man could ask for."

He took one final sip, then put the lid back on the flask and tucked it away. "I love you guys," he said simply, resting his hand on the stone one last time.

Without looking back, Kain started down the mountain path.

Tomorrow would bring the long road north to Tillwind. To new beginnings.

The whiskey flask stayed in his pocket.

Some things weren't meant to be finished alone.