The Death Of An Old Man

[Jachnun 566]

 

Branaford, a very old priest walks east beyond Eastcliff and Woldzmir, where his estate lies. No one ever knew of this secret estate, but it was his home. As he strolls through his garden he places his hand through the money roses in the garden, he sighs a sigh of relief and promptly sits down on the marble bench surrounded by the flowers of the garden. He looks up to the clear blue skies and smiles, he then shuts his eyes.

 

As he returns his gardener returns to see him dead, no stab, no burn, no sign of a wound but a mysterious death, death by misadventure.

 

So the life of Branaford Fairheart has ended. He died gripping a stone sword of yore. 

[Fireheart 2777]

Franz nods

[Raptorious 1899]

Garahel sheds a tear for his childhood captor.

[Ser Paul Ryan 1139]

"Ripperoni, friendo..." says Ser Paul Jr., weeping over his good friend Bran's corpse 

[lemontide331 1615]

"Good riddance" states jerry upon hearing the news of branafords death

[nordicg_d 1847]

((why was my post removed?))

[Vanir 693]

Ser Abner Rahl would weep upon hearing of his good friend's demise. Hopefully one day he'll see him in the seven skies.

[Cordial__ 230]

"It is a sad day indeed when we lose another person. Whether it be a woman, a man. A young once, an elder. A weakling, a strong man. They adventures and conversations of that person will never cease to exist." Saithor says as he sheds a tear for the old man he never got to meet in person

[Nathan_Barnett36 1564]

"When am make die, am nie want to be making of see of Branafords old ugly ass up in deh seven skies" says Siegmund

[Pureimp10 5691]

Ronald would go to the chapel in Vanhall, weeping at his friend's death. Abner and Rowan had left him, and now Branaford was gone.

[John Ivory 4547]

Sixtus rubs his eyes when he ears of the death.

 

"By God... a great funeral shall be arranged."

[ozeveo 87]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQjnl75XsYc

 

Father Karol Andriukaitis had grown complacent of late. The priest had not been half as active as he should have been since the Schism War - he had pored over parchments and charts, with thousands of tiny brush strokes painstakingly constructing a map, as His Holiness had tasked him with. But Daniel was now dead, and so Karol was no longer locked away from the world, hidden from plain sight so as not to shame the Church and its members. There was a new High Pontiff now, and the cleric could do as he pleased. 

 

 

Branaford Fairheart had been his friend, colleague and ally for years now, and it was for that reason that his death shocked the heirophant so. He had lashed out in a rage at the gardener who had found him dead in the Papal Gardens, beating him around the head with the wooden truncheon he always carried at his hip. He accused the simple groundskeeper, shouting accusations and vile curses, and yet finally when the indentured servant lay bloodied, bruised and cowering at the ground, he had let him flee. For Branaford's death was one of misadventure - but the lingering doubt remained with Andriukaitis, decaying at his mind and exacerbating his melancholy and periodic rages even further. Drinking the dark crimson wine which High Pontiff Daniel had used in blessings and sacraments would subdue him for a time, and night after night he would steal into the cloister's cellar and take what he needed. And then, the next morning, his ire, his paranoia, would be made all the worse by the great pounding in his head, like the battering ram he had watched break down the gates of Vanderfell city during the war.

 

Before he had been banned from work in the field, him and Branaford had always worked together on assignments, and they had performed their jobs with the kind of consummate efficacy that could only be the result of a pair whose talents were so opposite they complimented one another. Fairheart would be the kind, charitable and friendly old man who did what he did for the sake of God and duty, helping the common people and giving the world what justice he would. Andriukaitis would be the grim, brutal, younger man whose presence would remind those suspect to comply with him, so as not to make an enemy of the Church. Yet even the cruel Father Karol had been cowed by Fairheart's gentleness, and ofttimes he had stayed his hand at the elder man's plea where other men would have lashed out. Father Branaford had reminded him of the clergy's true purpose, time and time again, becoming a mentor to the much younger cleric.

 

Now, he was no more, his soul claimed by the void. And Karol Andriukaitis knew exactly who was to blame for his death, for poison was a woman's weapon.

[Dohvi 622]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.