We arrive at a safe but rocky hill, and bury beloved Tito while the bard sings a tune in his honor. Before filling in his grave, we empty his pockets (Darron makes an excellent point-Tito won't be needing them in the afterlife!). We make camp for the night, and I try to ignore the pain from my dislocated shoulder, knowing this wound will be a significant hindrance to our continued journey. 

The next morning, at the edge of this field of gravel, we see a massive mausoleum. Darron and Dolins want to explore, and I argue that Teddy and I should stand watch as we are both wounded. We do not need anymore opportunities for trouble at this point. It isn't long until the watchmen are getting puppydog eyes from Darron and Dolins seeking assistance opening the large stone cover, and we give in, though ultimately we're grateful for the pushing as we found 4 days of preserved rations.

Pressing into the city, we navigate around the lava through rough terrain, and Ser Denys' horse does not fare well. It steps into a crag, and an unnatural scream escapes the animal. I don't hesitate-I leap off my rounsey and slit the horses neck, putting it out of its misery, and minimizing the chances its cries will attract attention to our group. When I turn back to hop in my saddle and pick up my and Tito's horses' reins, I can't tell if the other faces in my party depict horror or fear.