A Halfling Buried

A halfling not long a go by the name of Brandon Swiftfingers was hung for the crimes against the Zhentarim was buried just outside Shadowdale the grave still fresh but unmarked.

In the deep black of a moonless, starless night; a lone man digs up the small corpse and carries it away.

The halfling is washed clean in cool, underground stream; blood and gore swept away from the surface of the world forever.

The man takes him to the mouth of the cave, sets him down gently and mutters the words written on a scroll.

* * *

The halfling awakes; alone, whole and healthy. Beside him, in dewsprinkled grass is a pouch heavy with the weight of gold.

Once Brandon awakes from his slumber he gets up slowly looking at his hands (he would still have his left pinky missing from having it cut off) he gives a small sigh partly disbelief that he has lost a finger and also in relief he is alive. He scans the area for anyone around but see's nothing only for the sack of gold sitting in the grass, Brandon gets a small grin across his lips. "Well this must be my lucky day!" He picks up the gold quite astounded at the weight then hurriedly stuffs it under his clothes.
Brandon sits back down contemplating on what has happened for about an hour the raises slowly heading too Myth Drannor hoping to see the Hin known as Wendal Shakypants and possibly speak with him to get revenge on those that have put him to death.