Rich pouch of Malku weeds
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I got off track the other day and came upon a small farmstead of Malku Su living out in the woods. There were maybe five of them in total, all huddled around a dirt mound. There were three other dirt mounds close by all with a bent metal pole sticking out of the dirt. The largest of the gathered Malku grabbed a straight metal pole from the ground and stuck it deep into the new mound, deep enough that it could stand on its own. The old mounds were overgrown and untended while the new one was richly decorated with rainbow-coloured weeds and sprinkled with a sugary powder. It was apparent from the somber atmosphere that this was some kind of ritual. I snuck away quietly, I had an overwhelming feeling that I was intruding on something important.
Telk, a woodcutters apprentice
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Our funerary priests bury our unshamed fallen with a metal rod through the heart.