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On her deathbed, grievously wounded, the star thrower of the Mürgelheim Mighty has but one request of her loving husband. He has been by her side many times when a match got out of hand, and he knows this will be the last.
"Promise me... a viking funeral... set me on... fire... and set me... adrift... don't let... my enemies... find me..."
Her husband nods, kisses her hand, and sheds a single tear.
Six days later, the inheritance is gone. He carefully counts the gold pieces, as the whistling necromancer has his zombies pull the cart with her rotting body away.