Wardrobe

Villager: Mateo

Visiting the relatively small island cemetery, you do a double-take at the sight of a vulture sitting perched on the single gravestone. As he looks up to meet your gaze, you realize that he's not just any vulture - he's an undead one, skin and feathers having sloughed off in some parts, leaving nothing but gleaming bone exposed.

"Hello. I haven't seen you visit the cemetery before. You're a visitor, right? Then be careful around these graves; treat them with respect, and I won't have to rip your eyes out."

“Oh yes, there’s more than just Helena’s grave here. Unfortunately we don’t know the names of those poor souls, whatever we find of them, so they are simply buried in that mass grave right there.”

The vulture gestures with a wing, and you turn your head to see a large patch of upturned ground, having clearly been recently dug up and put back.

“Of course, we keep having to add to it...every so often one of the warriors will come back with the skull or even ribs of some poor fellow they found at the mainland or bottom of the ocean, and we inter them here so Xino and I can send them along, if they haven’t moved on already.”

"Oh, where are my manners?! My name is Mateo, and I am the grim of this graveyard."

This statement bewilders you; isn't Xino the resident church grim here? There's no way this undead raptor can be the same - church grims are only dogs, and you tell him as much.

"Hahahahaha! That's true, for the most part. Occasionally, a sheep or a pig minipet will be used, but it's almost always dogs. For church grims, at any rate. Those aren't the only kind of grim out there."

"What am I talking about? Why, the Graveyard Watch of course!"

'You don't know what that is? For shame! Let me educate you, then."

"The very first person buried in a graveyard takes up the Graveyard Watch; they are bound to the cemetery, making sure to protect the graves of those interred there from any who would defile them. Even if that person is the devil himself. It is also our duty to escort the newly dead to the afterlife, so they do not get lost and wander as ghosts in the land. Evidently the grims of Xino, Ephemera, and Morgan's world clearly failed to do their jobs, given that they're here and not in the afterlife where they belong."

Mateo grumbles something under his breath, which you can rightly assume is something uncomplimentary about said grims. You take the opportunity to ask if Mateo plans on sending them there himself.

"What?! No, I'm not going to kill them! However it happened, they're back among the living now, and we grims don't just kill people! Not unless they're a threat to our graveyards! I mean, sheesh!"

The vulture shakes his head incredulously.

"Anyway. Church grims are different from normal grims - when a church is built, you see, the first person buried in that new cemetery would become a grim. To avoid a person being subjected to that fate, a minipet is sacrificed in their stead, and buried in the graveyard. And since they are the first, they become the cemetery's guardian; a grim. Hence the name church grim."

"Now, Xino is a rather bizarre exception. I've never in my life - or unlife, really - heard of someone being reborn as a church grim before. Talking it over with the 'reincarnates', the general consensus seems to be that who they were in their old life influenced what they returned as. If that is the case, then Xino must have been a very loyal and protective friend indeed. Something that hasn't changed in this life."

"How old was I when I died? I dunno, I've been dead long enough that I've forgotten. My cemetery wasn't attached to a church, and while there was a watchtower of some sort it's not exactly like it was maintained when the place was abandoned. Nor did it have any clocks on the outside."

That's...nothing like the graveyard here in Ouroboros. Nothing at all.

"What? Oh no, I'm not describing the graveyard here. I'm...talking about my old cemetery."

Mateo droops. You gape, slack-jawed, at him. Grims could move graveyards? But then what about their watch?! You can't help but voice your questions.

"Well, that's the thing."

Mateo gives you a sobering look.

"I failed in my first Watch."

"A powerful demon prince - not a lord like Belphegor, I mean a prince of the netherworld, made some sort of a deal with a mortal. What is it, I don't know, but it involved giving him the power to banish me from the graveyard."

"Normally, killing a grim does nothing, and we will reform in a few hours within our cemeteries. But this demon had found a workaround; destroying this place as a graveyard. If the grounds I was bound to were gone, then I would be released from my Watch, and move on to the afterlife."

"I fought. Oh, you bet I fought. With the fury of a thousand suns, I made sure make them bleed for every inch of ground they defiled with their presence. They sealed me within a crystal, and without me to defend the grounds, they were free to raze them to the ground."

Mateo visibly droops, clearly still hurting from this.

"I failed. I could only watch, silenced, as they made off with some sort of treasure hidden in the watchtower. Some artifact I never knew was there until it was gone. What none of us realized was that being sealed in the crystal kept me from moving on as I should have, and when the thing was sold off to a pirate, I ended up here."

"Wha- oh no, it wasn't Southpaw. It was someone else, but as for who it was, I have no idea."

"Anyway, it was Xino who realized something wasn't right with my prison. Like calls to like, and he felt a kindred spirit inside. After many attempts to release me, including trying and failing to shatter my physical prison, it was suggested that it be buried within the cemetery. Grasping at straws, I know, but by then they were desperate. And miracle of miracles, it worked."

"As I was already a grim, I slid easily into my place here. And here I've lived ever since."

"Do I hate being on the Graveyard Watch? Well, no. I actually quite enjoy it. It helps that I have company; grims tend to be rather under-socialized, you see, with only the temporary visits from the dead and the living. And our watch doesn't last forever - my situation aside, when a cemetery is destroyed, the grim goes with it, released from their Watch to pass on to the afterlife. And its a when, not if. Nothing lasts forever."

Mateo looks rather mournful at the thought.

"What? The dove?"

Mateo turns to look at the bleeding heart dove, before returning his attention to you.

"A dear friend from my first graveyard. Amaranth has been my companion for untold ages. As soon as I was unsealed, she flew all the way over here to reunite with me again."

"Hmm? What happened to the first person who was buried here? Well, this was before Ronan brought Helena's ashes to be buried here. The villagers had set aside the land as a graveyard, but it hadn't yet seen use. As such, it accepted me as its guardian readily enough. And so now I live here, in a populated village with people who visit me, and not just the graveyard. It's quite a nice change of pace. I would still swap this for preventing the destruction of my old grounds, don't get me wrong, but as far as things ended up going, it...this is really nice."

"Haha, of course I have hobbies! You didn't think us grims simply sat around all day waiting for mourners, funerals, or intruders, did you?"

"Anyway, I crochet. Don't give me that look, crocheted garments are actually quite nice. There's something special about making something with your own two talons, and there is never not a use for crocheted clothing. Well, unless you live someplace like here, but it does still get cold in the winters. Not enough to snow, normally, but we do have a spirit of winter living here full time. So yes, we get snow. And even if we didn't, you can't go wrong with some crocheted sweaters and blankets, or even knitted ones like Primrose does. Though he prefers accessories and blankets over clothing..."

"At any rate, you can even imbue special properties into the things, depending on the materials you use. Usually the wool is treated and enchanted by alchemists and then made into yarn by tailors, but you can get wool that has a power all of its own from natural sources. Where do you think the Golden Fleece came from?"

"I've been meaning to ask Morgan if he'd be willing to donate some of his wool...he might look like half his fur fell out if shaved, but it would be for a worthy cause. I mean, what kind of power would the wool of the dead reborn to life hold? Would it be akin to phoenix birb ashes, or..."

Mateo trails off, muttering under his breath. You've answered all your questions for the time being, so you decide to tell the grim goodbye.

"Right, sorry. It was a pleasure meeting you; I hope you have a long and fruitful life. Take care, traveler."