Death Of Christopher Blackwell

[Urahra 5781]

The Blackwall Manor, located in the snowy, rural region of Owynswood, was unusually quiet when Lorina Blackwell (nee Carrion) returned home that day. She carried her sketchbook, a leatherbound tome filled with doodles of the local landscape and wildlife, under one arm, a stick of charcoal grasped in the other. She hummed to herself as she trod through the thick snow. Cracking her sketchbook open, she glanced down at a drawing of a large, elegant stag grazing peacefully in a glade. Lorina enjoyed hiking out into the wilderness around Owynswood to observe the wildlife. The brisk, mountain air and the clear, bright light filled her with energy and inspiration. Nothing was more beautiful than the winter sunlight glittering like fragments of glass over a frozen stream, or the hot breath rising in white puffs from the nostrils of a doe. Christopher, her beloved husband of two years, had always loved deer. The very first present Lorina had ever given to him was a painting of a stag - one which he kept framed in his bedroom. Excitement bubbled inside her chest. She could not wait to tell Christopher about the handsome stag she had seen on her hike, about how close she was able to creep toward the beast, and about how she was able to sketch every fine, bristly hair on the creature's head.

 

"Christopher!" Lorina called excitedly, pushing the manor door open. She removed her hat, which was covered in a fine dusting of snowflakes, and hung it on the door handle. "Christopher, I am home!" She scurried to the kitchen and peeked inside, finding only an empty room with a cold hearth. It was not like Christopher to let the fires burn all the way down. Owynswood was freezing, even during the summer months, and a hot fire in every room was the only way to keep the manor warm.

 

Frowning, Lorina headed for the stairs. "Christopher!" she called brightly. Perhaps he had decided to take a nap and let the fires burn out by accident. Lorina giggled to herself, thinking she would soon find him sprawled on the sofa upstairs, snoring gently with a book placed over his eyes. As she reached the top of the staircase, though, she felt a sudden chill. At the end of the hall, the door to the guest room - what had once been her room, before they were married - stood ajar.

 

 

"Christopher?"

 

Lorina slowly approached the door. A long shadow fell across the threshold. 

 

 

"Christo - "

 

The word died inside of Lorina's throat. Silence - except for the soft creak of the rope - filled the room. Lorina did not move, did not even breath. Her eyes remained locked on the body - the body gently swinging like a pendulum from the ceiling rafters.

 

 

Her breath came back in heaving gasps, then sobs, then raw, animal screams. 

 

"CHRISTOPHER!"

[Sky 0]

"Rest in peace Thomas." Prays Antonavic to the Creator.

[Mephistophelian 977]

((Don't know either characters so I cannot post anything of note...but I /can/ say this; well written, dem feels were pretty tough :'S ))

[Avacyn 1712]

Gawain scratches his cheek as word reaches him. He sighs quietly, and goes to comfort Jean, who he presumes may be slightly saddened.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

Friedrich scowls as he hears the news

[Jonificus 2763]

Mithius ceases his usual work in Petrus as one of his employees walk up to him, informing him about the death of Christoper Blackwell. He sighs sadly and clears his throat before beckoning the employee to follow him to a stable "We ride to Owynswood, I wish to say a final farewell to my friend from the Karovia days."

[SodaiKamikaze 652]

As the news of his once closest friend's passing came, only silent tears followed. Allen Steelwall stepped away from his melting pot, where tar bubbled forth in blackened sorrow, similar to the feelings the Half-Southeron was carrying within his heart. He carved a miniature tombstone out of wood, threading a golden chain through it and fastening it around his neck, finally uttering a few words. "My friend.. May I meet you in the Seven Skies one day with Larkdan..." 

[susitsu 871]

"Huh...didn't see that coming," states individual who knew Christopher.

[FORƎST 1312]

Allister travels to Owynswood to bury his friend. He hopes that the remnants of the Red Dragon and rebellion would join him there.

 

"If only he had been more of a warrior. He could've died an honorable, even glorious death."

[Guest]

"Blackwells belong in th' North..." says Martin as he discovers this information.

"Still, he is my cousin. A shame 'e 'ad t' go."

[Stump 709]

Ceriwyn sits in her room in the Briarwood manor near Leuvaarden. It's dark, and nothing but a candle lights her room as she sits in a chair next to a bookshelf. Above her a painting of Rhys Antony Briarwood, the Butcher, hangs. His face is overshadowed, completing the grimly quiet scene. After a while she mutters, looking down to her lap where the letter of which held the news sits.
"I'm almost hurt, I hated him so much.
Yet, he hangs himself..? Well, of course he didn't want me to be there.. It was a terribly anti-climactic end to a rivalry, though." Ceriwyn then falls silent, picking the letter up from her lap and setting it alight on the candle, letting it burn for a time, before blowing both the paper and the candle out, sitting there in the pitch black.

[Cracker 4570]

Far too busy tending to the schism, invasion, and construction of his Pontificate, Daniel had long assumed Lorina dead after having clergy scour high and low through Petrus and Karovia in hopes of finding her. She had promised him as a naive fifteen year old girl to never elope, and Daniel took her word solemn so when she was not found in what were her filial holdings the Holy Father wept openly. Slain by Kovachevian bandits or butchered by Hounds, the little Lorina was gone. She finally had her wish; a life free of noble bondage, but at what cost?

 

The thought of his lost cousin, no, sister had always haunted him. Unlike the other members of his family abhorred, she was but a girl, who had no place in the plots that turned her family to ash. Daniel remembered her stutters and her drawings, her stuffed bears and their long talks, the little flower she was, and found himself in despairs at the thought of such an innocent soul persecuted. To cope, he prayed deeply to her father thrice a week, beggaring forgiveness for failing the only oath Daniel could not keep; one to the late Emperor Tobias, to protect his youngest and favorite child. 

 

_____

 

In an expedition north of the Cyraie to extract clay, the High Pontiff hears a faint wail and stops. 

 

"Crows, Your Holiness." assures an Acolyte. He pauses for a moment before shuffling along.

[Jachnun 566]

The Deacon Branaford and Father Karol Andriukaitis would arrive at the manor, gazing upon the humble death bed of Christopher Blackwell. With a neutral and unfazed expression on his face, Branaford kneels down to leave a simple letter to the inhabitants of the manor. To anyone who would encounter it, it would read as follows:

 

"House Briarwood sends its condolences to those who suffered ill fate as a result of this unexpected death. It is with a heavier heart that we will have to repossess this death ridden manor as it is Lord Briarwood's right to repossess his vassal's land. We bid you well and apologize for this grim decision, but hope you shall tread lightly bearing this news in mind."

 

Afterwards, the pair of clerics would circle the manor, attempting to catch a glimpse inside. Reaching to a flask at his belt, Father Karol begins to ceremonially splash consecrated water on the side of the country manse. Upon soliciting an odd look from Branaford, he raises an eyebrow quizzically.

 

'This is the home of a sinner,' he says simply, continuing his work.

[Imi 425]

Jean would place herself at the desk in her room, in the new Briarwood Manor. She runs a shaky hand through her hair.
  "He was just here..." She mumbles absently, remembering the pair's conversation.
  She remembered what they spoke of, the upsetting topics that had left Jean astounded at the sudden trust in Christopher, the man she had hated for so long.

 

   He had told her of his loveless marriage, the Carrion girl who he had tricked and lied to, the girl being naive and easily fooled. He spoke of how he married her for power, how that he managed to lure her into his trap.

 

He had then told her of his desire for ambition, and Jean had grew angry.
   But that wasn't the worst part, no. The worst part was how he still cared for her. Herself. Jean.
    And then she began to sob, not for Christopher, but for the wife he had left behind that was too young and sweet to have seen some of the things that she had been forced to.

[yopplwasupxxx 5946]

"Good riddance."