Passing Of A Self Crowned King

[KarmaDelta 969]

(Either Work)

 

 

 

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"A single coin.... that's all it takes....."

                                                                                  -Finian Goldhand

 

(Last known picture of Finian Goldhand)

 

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A single Dwarf rests against a large boulder, weary of his long journey across the lands of Vailor. Barely blinking, the Dwarf stares into the fire of his campsite.  Malnourished and hair growth unprecedented to even him, the sound of his ragged and tired breath is the only audible thing other than the sound of the crackling fire and the nature around him. 

 

"What.... now?" he says with a raspy voice, "What else do you wish of me my gods? I have given all that I could for this journey, but it seems you are still leading me farther and farther away from the things that made me.... me..."

 

 

Nothing answered him but the nature around him. He continues to stare into his campfire, already assuming nothing would answer him. He continues to speak, as if someone was close by, listening to his pleas,

"I've lead a life that any Dwarf would normally have. I was raised by my mother, barely seeing my father, enough so that I do not even remember his name. I've grown to know trade.... to love it like I was grown to...."

 

He pauses for a moment, holding back tears,

"I've loved. Married to the most beautiful woman a Dwarf could ever hope for. She was the only customer that I had as well growin' up too."

 

He chuckles a bit, a single tear rolling down his cheek,

"Many sons and daughters we had too.... all of them as beautiful as the single coin I still hold in my right hand. A few that I could give you now in this time would be;

 

Durack, my eldest and strongest son, the man who would succeed me once I pass.

 

Bismuth, my eldest and most beautiful daughter. Captured the eyes of many, even when she was just a young'in.

 

Rodurt, my seventh son. The most promising of smiths out of my children.

 

Tullie, my fourth daughter. A tenacious yet gentle one. Could always count on her to defend her younger sinblings."

 

 

He stops there, smiling at his the thought of all of his children, the self made markings on his face contorting to his facial expression. The only thought in the back of his head would be if they were all safe and sound, and then continues,

"I've also lost just as much as any Dwarf, but the hardest?

That's, well, my.... wife. Lost to a sickness that no one could cure I'm afraid.... 

It sent me on a downward spiral of depression and anger, hell, even a greater degree of alcoholism any Dwarf could possibly strand."

 

Choking back the full onslaught of his tears, he begins to finish his life story with his still raspy voice.

"But... I ended up picking myself up. Lived in a place where I get sand in my cheeks and burns on my own, well, used to be somewhat bald head. I even brought back the notice of my clan, it perked me up, made me happy. I was able to meet many of my kinsmen and lead them to notice, or somewhat of it, at least."

 

Stopping abruptly, he tries to pick himself up, using the boulder supporting his back to help him up.

"Of course, that's when I head the call.... the call from the Brathmordakin... the call from you two."

 

He fists tighten as he stares somewhat angrily into the fire in front of him.

"I've done as much as I could for the two of you.

 

I've fasted to prove my faithfulness.

 

I've traveled great distances to only be met with landscapes that I have seen plenty of times before.

 

I've even given all of my riches away.

 

The worst of all though?

I've even left my own family behind for you, and that is something that I should have never done, ever!"

 

Angry, he lashes out, throwing his arms out in wide swiping motions sporadically.

"Just stop it! I want it all to stop! I just don't even understand!" he yells angrily, still moving wildly.

 

As he begins to calm down, breathing heavily more so than before, his eyes begin to go wide. Falling back onto the boulder behind him, he continues to look forward at the fire. 

In his eyes, he could make out flashing images, constantly repeating. After a few moments, he began to realize what he was watching....

 

It was his life.

 

He could see to the day he was born, to the day he met his most beloved wife, then to his children, his clan, and finally.... his death. It took him a few moments to, again, realize the ending of it all, well, endings. He made out two different ends,

 

One where he was crowned king of the Dwedmar, surrounded by riches and his family, passing away peacefully in his sleep.

 

The other being him sitting alone.

Eyes closed.

Against a large boulder.

With a lit fire.

And a bloodied blade by his side.

Along with two shadows barely peaking out from behind the boulder.

 

At this point, the Dwarf begins to tremble. Paranoid, he begins to look in every direction he could, only to see whatever the light of his fire could reach. Afraid, he quickly dives to his left, to his pack. He begins to look as fast as he could, for the one thing that could possibly protect him. After a few minutes of rustling through his bag, it finally dawned on him.... his blade was nowhere near him. Not in his bag, nor even in the area around him.

 

The blade that was sacred to him, for it was his first blade given to him by his father as a child. It was a blade used in making unbreakable trading contracts, the only weapon he truly carried on him. He then began to back up back against the boulder, eyes still wide. In his mind, he thought this was all a joke, a trick being pulled on him by the gods he believed in the most. He slowly began to realize what was happening, and began to laugh dryly in the night. 

 

"So... I see it now... the truth of all of this... I was just a fool, heh.

I might as well do one last thing, make one part of my dream come true."

 

With what appears like all of his will, he utters his final words,

"I crown myself King of The Earth and all of it's people.

Now, just do it."

 

As though he was waiting for something, he began to get comfortable. The fear from before now completely gone, only to be replaced by peace, or as close to it as one could call it. He then closed his eyes.

 

What followed after that, was the sound of thin flesh being sliced, then the sound of a dagger clanging on the ground. As the Dwarf lies there, his scarred right hand goes weak, and out rolls a blood crusted coin. As if by a stroke of luck, the coin rolls into the fire, and it roars to life for only a split second, and then dims back to what it was before.

 

So sat there, a dead Dwarf, almost unrecognizable to those who once knew him.

 

For anyone who happened across this camp, they would only see a husk with a somewhat infected right hand, and a bloodied dagger not too far away from his left, with a blood trail made from his own neck, across his chest, down his arm, and onto the ground near the dagger.

 

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TL;DR

 

Official death post of Finian Goldhand, probably one of my best Dwarf characters I have ever played honestly.

For those who do not get it, short and simple, it's that he had some sort of dementia brought on by his constant use of unbreakable contracts and it caused an infection and made him hear and see things, which pretty much ended with him committing suicide.

I just wanted to make this to finish up my business with LoTC since I now work quite a bit and don't really have much of an interest in it anymore.

 

Yes, you could say why go through this much effort to make a death post for your character if you don't like this server anymore and crap.

Simple answers?

Whatevs man.

 I hate goodbye posts, but eh, this is for people to use if they want.

 

Also, as a final word, tell Nolan to make a new Goldhand thread so he can properly do stuff. I'm too lazy to tell him myself. Other than that, do some good my Goldhand friends.

 

So to anyone who did not already know, peace easy.

Karma out.

[Luchian 214]

Bringing a hand to his head Magnus whipes away the newly formed sweat around his nose and on his forehead. He treads lightly into the camp, looking around and as he is about to call out his gaze falls upon the dead dwarf. Uncertain his hand falls to his sheated blade, and rests upon the pommel as he nears the dwarf, a curious but wary glint in his eyes. As he draws near the cause of death is obivous, and a muffled curse escapes his mouth. His hand leaves the pommel of his sword, and he leans over inspecting the dwarf in an attempt to identify him, though he quickly realises it is futile. Magnus straightens his back, taking a few steps back from the dwarf. He stands before him, and utters a prayer before departing.

 

"Dungrimm akhoral voz sirk"

 

Nice post, and good luck with the future

[Salvo 1852]

(Bye, Karma.)

[Jygg 330]

(This was a good death post)

[Lark 2227]

Dain continues to wonder why his crow keeps returning with his payments to Finian, perhaps a trip to Urugan is in order...

[Huh 91]

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