Nyssa

Well, I'm no good at digging, am I? She looked mournfully at the pitiful few dents she'd made in the frozen earth with her shovel.

Lumpy, meanwhile, had made astonishing progress in the time they'd been outside, and was already knee-deep in a substantial hole. He'd carried the body out on his own, sorted through the priest's possessions on his own, and was basically running the entire burial. She had a feeling that's how he preferred things, anyhow, and she went along, helping where she could.

I'm really getting nowhere. Still, Nyssa kept digging. Even if she couldn't contribute much, she could contribute something. She pulled her furs around her tighter and made another clumsy stab at the ground.

"So," Nyssa said, after a while, "where did you get that scar?" She could have pointed at any one of the dozens that marred the half-orc's body, but in the darkness, it was hard to tell.