Templeton looked across the battlefield at Jasar atop a mound of the dead, head to the sky as the rain started to fall, washing the bodies clean of the blood clinging to them. Templeton sheathed his sword and looked down at his tabard, once white, now covered in dirt and blood, then up to Jasar as he turned to face Templeton, the last two men upon the field.
"Was it worth it?" Templeton yelled, shielding his eyes from the sun as Jasar made his way down the mound. "What difference did this make...? Are you happy now?"
Jasar reached the bottom of the mound and put his left hand on Templetons shoulder. "They think so," He pointed up towards the peaks in the distance.
"The mountains were there before us and they'll be there long after we're gone," Templeton felt an unbearable weariness in his heart, "Nothing we do will make any difference to them."
"The mountains?" Jasar stood in front of Templeton and raised both his arms high, tilting his head back to feel the rain wash away the markings on his face, "Lift your head up my friend, feel the tears of their gods for what we did to their people today."
"Their gods?" Templeton blinked the rain away as Jasar brought his face back down, "Do you think we made their gods notice today?"
"I know we did..." Jasar grinned, his eyes holding an edge of madness within them, "Come on..."
"They're not far now..."
