The Lamp's Turgid Savage Gleam!

At dinner that night, a rather somber affair given the events of the day, the party assembled to enjoy a meal at the Captain's table.

Sir Bocking leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Zimbar, the halfling paladin, "You know, Zimbar, old mate - Something about that Fedor death speech didn't sound quite cricket to me."

"I know" Zimbar replied, nodding in a knowing fashion, "It seemed like a bit of diabolical overacting, if you know what I mean."

"No dumbkopf, that's not what I meant" Bocking replied testily.

"I mean didn't you think he knew just a bit too much about geometry, mechanics and naval grade rope ?" Bocking continued.

"Ooooh, I get it now"

"I'm not sure you do"

Finally, Zimbar suggested that the two excuse themselves and pay their "final respects" to Fedor in the Planetary Sovereign's chapel in order to settle the matter once and for all.

Sir Bocking got up and addressed the guests "Zimbar and I will be heading down to the chapel to see poor old Fedor off - by the way, my compliments to the chef, that 'Mindblower Sandwich' was simply delicious!"

A few moments later, the pair found themselves in the chapel facing Fedor's lifeless body now laying atop a makeshift funeral pyre.

Zimbar was first to speak "This is awfully strange - but I didn't notice .."

Zimbar did not finish the statement for he noticed two others were in the chapel as well, Cash the coffin maker and Vardaman the fool.

Vardaman had an old cane pole laying across his knees.

Cash says to him "You ain't gonna catch any fish down here - ain't nuthin' down here - you need to go up on deck."

Vardaman answered, "Aw hell Cash, cain't you see that them turnip greens are mightly spindly eating for a fellow of my frame."

Cash ignored the comment and returned to planing then stopped and squinted to check the trueness of the plank. He wanted to make sure he got the bevel just right on account of animal magnetism.

"Hand me 'nother one Vardaman, will ya?"

Bocking broke in just in time to save Zimbar from further moronic speech, "Oh just ignore those two yokels ... look at Fedor, there's no blood!"

"Great Heimdall!" Zimbar exclaimed, "And, look at this" He pointed to a place where Fedor's skin had been abraded by a Sahuagin flail.

"Merciful Idun!" and Bocking retreated a step, "This isn't Fedor, its a Fedor-shaped IRON GOLLEM!"