Two-and-a-half walls of the finest, whitest stone stand here, weathered by the passing of countless seasons. There is no roof, nor sign that there ever was one. All indications are that the work was abruptly abandoned. There is no door, nor markings on the walls. Nor is there any indication that any coffin has ever lain here... yet.
An Unfinished Mausoleum, Graveyard
peasant
gravedigger
I am low paid labor in this town. I do a job that many people shun because of my contact with death. I am very lonely and wish I had someone to talk to who isn't dead.
Hi there. I don't think you'll find food in this place. I guess I shall eat more moldy bread then and hope that it does not kill me.  What place is this? It is unfinished. It was going to be a place for the dead.  Who was to be buried here?  That white stone is the fairest marble I have ever seen.  Why, it is almost as if the workers all stopped one day and vanished, albeit many years ago. I have no clue. Things seemed to go wrong. Then why are you here? I am just passing by. There's a market a bit north. Which market is this?  Do they require the services of a gravedigger, and if so why? No. It's a simple village space for vendors. I do more than put up with dead people. What else do you do? I also put up with living people. I eat. I sleep. I drink. Sometimes I have nightmares about undead. The undead?  Here?  I thought we only had to worry about badger-cultists and followers of the weasel-god.