Truth Against Ikur/griffin

[Fid 566]

"Not bad, actually..." the ghostly High Prince responds. "Well... apart from this," he gestures to his face, and then... everything else, "I am hale as ever. I got married, you know."

[Crayfishchris 751]

"Not bad, actually..." the ghostly High Prince responds. "Well... apart from this," he gestures to his face, and then... everything else, "I am hale as ever. I got married, you know."

 

The gray form of Kristian smiles. "Again? Good for y'then. Neva' got married m'self... just... ended up with lots o' kids for some reason. Lots o' adoptions, y'know. Sorry t'see y'died. I always thought I'd go out in a battle, with somethin' like that. 'Stead I just... body just gave out. Shame, that."

 

The ghost pauses, looking down at the ground before looking back up at Eleron.

 

"I never meant t'urt ya, friend. I was glad y'named me Mali'llir... that meant... so much, considerin' what I went through. I ain't much, man, but I ain't... evil... I... hope... I... didn't..." he laughs, running a hand through his ghastly goatee, "There's no 'ard feelin's, right?"

[Fid 566]

"I am at peace, Kristian Von Craw, with you and the rest of those who caused me so much pain and suffering. I did my utmost to keep Malinor strong, but my utmost was not enough. There are no hard feelings. Only a sense of a well deserved rest." 

 

He pauses, before giving his old friend a smile.

 

"I hope that you feel the same, llir."

[MrJoshy 130]

It is not long before Ikur takes a small breath; and his eyes glaze over with the icy azure of a frozen lake. A deep voice is heard, a grumble, perhaps. Tired, ragged, and seemingly intimidating to those that listen; which nobody does for the force leads him to a small, tight knit room in Haleun'nor to write his response which then will be posted around the pamphlets of Quavinir Signus.

 

A simple, elegant writing adorns the sheet of paper as well as the response. It is clear, and easy to read; for the purpose of the author.

"Dear Quavinir Signus, it is I, Sirius Daystream; the one that you used to call friend. My death was not suicide, nor was it a choice. It was an offer. If anything, the killing was not murder; it was choice. I speak to you in the tune of one that has been betrayed a thousand times and a thousand more times, for the purpose at the ploys of others, the choices of stupidity, and my own mistakes."

There is a pause in the author's writings, and he softly sighs.

"Griffin's workings were not that of betrayal. They were that of an offer, as stated before; I repeat myself so that your mind can repeat the words a ten fold. I was not suicidal. I did not kill myself. I was given a liberating death by an individual that offered me a way out from you. You were one of the leading choices in my offer of killings, after you and your niece were known to hurt Vulathri Daysin, my apprentice at that time. You had a heft price on your head from Oren, one that I was going to take up; but replace with Hyra. But I had not, because Hyra had married Vulathri, and he would have never forgiven me.

Hyra Signus had taken Vulathri Daysin underneath her title of house, given him tattoos, and yet... she hurt him. Badly. An abusive person, and yet he stayed with her because he truly believed that he could help her unstable mind. Yet he could not, because she was an unwilling, and insane being."

There is another pause, perhaps more to add?

"There was a multitude of reasons that I had decided to have my life ended for a better cause; that of one where I could help others from the potential threats of harmful magicks. One of these leading ones was my wife, Ahlysaaria, at the time leaving me. It devastated me; for I had loved her more than the deities that you believe in could possibly allow. One of the even larger ones was my ineptitude at the time. Wise men get wiser, stupid men get stupider, I say. And I have gotten wiser in my time of long thought, expanding onward.

So it is from beyond the grave, quite literally, that I take the time to offer you one simple word of advice; get wiser. You have not many years beyond you, human, and you will be weak and fragile in these times. It is also to my knowledge that you have a daughter, no? Raise her without the lies that you had given to the ones that used to call 'friends.' 

Get wiser, and then you can tell the truth."

The body of Griffin slumps forward somewhat, tired and ragged from such an escapade of resources; but one hand leans forward to write out again.

"Also, if anyone after this letter of response has questions as to what has happened with Quavinir Signus, and as to why I write to him now; simply post a response." 

Yours truly; Sirius Daystream.
 

[Destroyer_Bravo 1054]

Suddenly a hail of magegold rains down upon Griffin and his ghostly compatriots!

[Eranikus 348]

Vulathri wanders around the Cloud Temple and pauses at the message board, his eyes locking on a familiar symbol. He pulls the pamphlet down and reads it over, a smirk spreading across his face as he struggles to stifle a chuckle. After reading the full publication, he pins it back up and clasps his hands behind his back, shaking his head.

 

"Woe to the Signus, for their master is but an old fool," he says quietly as he departs, continuing on his way.

[Pureimp10 5691]

"Nice to see old friends, and commanders, here. Eleron, I remember when Lord Roy held your head through Vekaro. It, it brought back memories."

[Fid 566]

Eleron purses his lips, choosing to ignore that particular comment.

[Crayfishchris 751]

"I am at peace, Kristian Von Craw, with you and the rest of those who caused me so much pain and suffering. I did my utmost to keep Malinor strong, but my utmost was not enough. There are no hard feelings. Only a sense of a well deserved rest." 

 

He pauses, before giving his old friend a smile.

 

"I hope that you feel the same, llir."

 

Kristian smiles back, the birthmark that was so distinctive before still showing bright now, even after death.

 

"Strange. 'Twas a bit easier than I thought. Replayed thin's like this o'er an' o'er in m'head... thinkin', well, thinkin' that I 'ad made a mistake, or that I messed up. Still 'member it now, strangely... I am glad we're friends."

 

He turns to Ikur, face turning serious. "Griff... er... Ikur... er, whatever y'go by these days. I'll tell y'this one thin' after livin' with y'buggers for twenty fawkin' years. Elves can't stay true t'decisions. They like t'scheme. They like t'fight. They like t'debate. Truth b'told, they need a stern leader, they just don't realize it. Otherwise they fall 'part like Conclave did... or become hard t'govern like Malinor. Now... I'm a warrior. Peace ain't in my blood. But I know that enough Elven blood's been spilled by other t'keep ya from doin' it t'y'selves."

 

"Now... why the fawk are we 'ere again? I sorta forget t'purpose o' this place."

 

Suddenly a hail of magegold rains down upon Griffin and his ghostly compatriots!

((No hate, only love. <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333))

[Pureimp10 5691]

Elrohan nods as he figured Eleron would ignore that.

 

"Well, at least you weren't killed by a close friend. Rel, he-he got me in the end."

 

EDIT: ((I love how this has turned from a hate post into a love one. <3))

[- Pastry 931]

Ikur chuckles mildly to himself as he listens to the ghosts carry on in their abstract views on death.

 

"Well, at least I'm alive."

[Crayfishchris 751]

Ikur chuckles mildly to himself as he listens to the ghosts carry on in their abstract views on death.

 

"Well, at least I'm alive."

 

"**** you."

[Pureimp10 5691]

Elrohan wishes he was still alive, so he could smack Griffin upside the head for that comment.

 

"I see you when your time does come then, Griffin. No matter, you should put up a separate poster on Quavinir. Varseles are varseles, no matter where you go."

[- Pastry 931]

"Van'ayla, lliran."

[Pureimp10 5691]

Elrohan nods, his time in Thales complete.

 

"Van'ayla, friend. Ave Orenia, Ave Chivay."