"If 'e ain't a necromancer, why was 'e always out spendin' time with the ghosts at the ol' prison?" "There been all kinds a' creepy things goin' on up there, at the prison, e'er since 'e started pokin' around there." "Yeah, an' look at all those books 'e has. It just ain't right." "'Ey, that strange metal man's comin'. Boss didn't say nothin' 'bout no strange metal man. I ain't interested in gettin' my 'ead busted in by that thing." "Me either," "Yeah, same 'ere." "Aright, fine. Bury the old man. C'mon, guys." The dozen or so men depart, specifically avoiding the path that the construct is rapidly approaching from, shooting the group venomous glances, but otherwise dispersing without a conflict.<br/><br/>Unless they wish to talk further, it's another few hundred feet to the gravesite, where Father Grimburrow and two gravediggers are waiting, apparently oblivious to the confrontation, just a little ways back.