'Gibs''s page

Bereft of his mob, Gibs seems somehow smaller, the pitchfork he is left holding now looks almost comically oversized for his aging frame. You mark my words, woman, and you mark them well, he says to Kendra. Your father brought nothin but misery to this town, with all his meddlin in affairs that shouldn'a concernt him. Put 'im in the ground then. Be done with 'im. And long overdue I say. Time us hard workin folks had some peace.

Gibs draws his remaining pride close and mutters to his lingering companions. They trudge sullenly away back towards Ravengro, passing by the casket without sparing their former comrade a second look.

You don’ git it, woman. The man named Gibs spits on the ground, his saliva joining the puddles already thronging the Restlands. We won’t have a necromancer buried in the same place as our kin! I suggest you move out…while you still can. He nods his head backwards over his shoulder as the other men tighten their grips on their weapons. Folks are pretty upset about this right now. No tellin what might happen if’n someone were to do somethin…stupid. His eyes narrow as he takes in Lem and the pallbearers. That is to say, somethin else stupid…