Arguing with the tragically obtuse was draining. Keystone had experienced an interesting and less-than-ideal morning so far, and he was impatient to put both it, and this city in the road dust behind him. At the same time, he felt that his adventuring companion deserved better representation than he was getting. 

"It ain't respect to call a fallen hero vermin. It ain't respect to ignore that he bled and died for you tosspots. It's sure as bloody hell not respect to not keep his personals safe for family and friends. He was only half Man, but you're not half the man he was."

Keystone pushed past the guards on his way out, grunting a monotone "'xcuse..." Without stopping, the broad (and particularly annoyed) man turned his head to the side until he caught the older guard in his peripheral vision. 

"He even get benediction, or did you lot just toss him in a hole and throw dirt on 'im?"

It didn't matter, really, though he figured he probably should stop. For all of his posturing on what was respectful, getting himself into a melee with Telflamm soldiers in a graveyard was surely the opposite of respectful. 

Keystone tried to content himself with the memory of reciting Raa's name to the creature that did him in, shortly before beating it back into the afterlife (albeit barely). He failed, naturally, as cold anger had taken hold of his thoughts and didn't seem to want to let go. Perhaps, when all of this was over, he'd return to reclaim the Half-Orc's bones and lay them to rest elsewhere, either with Raa's people or his own. Remained to be seen, but that idea gave him some comfort. 

Returning to Saran and the horses, Keystone's humorless expression said what needed to be said for his experience graveside. "There was an Inn, place where they stuffed the refugees when we first came to Telflamm. It's on the way out of town; we'll give a quick check there about his effects. Whether yes or no, I'm making for the other side of those walls." 

It was funny, really. Keystone hadn't thought much about knightly types before. The mixed-blood Paladin had struck a chord in him, however. He wished they could have spoken more.