Returning Home - A Final Goodbye

[ski_king3 0]

 

 

 

He watches as the bottle hurtles towards the ground. It is a mere moment before it shrinks to a single glimmer in his blurred vision, another before it explodes into dozens of shattered fragments of light. He giggles drunkenly as he uncorks the second bottle of "Brother's Ambition," sloshing a mouthful of whiskey down his throat. His legs dangled over the abyss, flailing about haphazardly as he tosses his head back for another gulp.

 

Yet it was not long until he found the second bottle unsatisfying, hurling it over the edge as it had the other, this time some of the murky liquid escaping the explosion that was to follow. As he set out to find a bottle of wine within the satchel at his side, his mind wandered, handling the remaining alcohol idly.

 

Home again, he thought with a dull sigh, briefly peering around him, taking in the front of the Citadel as well as he could from his perch. So quick, such a beautiful fruit can turn rotten.. though that can be said about a great many things, I suppose. Another sigh, exasperation and weariness wrought in the noise, well representative of his feelings at present.

 

It's time I suppose. I should not tease the stones below as I do. They eagerly await the return of the one who laid them. With this, he presses a hand against the ledge, pulling himself back up so he might rise. Briefly, he leans forward, peering over the edge drunkenly before throwing his head back in raucous laughter.

 

Of course, he would collect himself rather quickly, deciding in earnest, it was time. After emptying the satchel of all items of importance, he sets it back upon the stone, sliding it off the ledge with his foot. The liquor and other miscellaneous goods would explode when they found the ground, just as the rest had. Flowers first. He retrieves the small bundle from the ground beside him, peering at it. Cheza had given this to him. Perhaps a Druid, and perhaps not the most sane creature, yet she was his friend. Goodbye.

 

As the bouquet dropped slowly downward, he already fishes for the next item. Finding it within his robes, he extends his arm over the ledge. The stone. The Anbella stone, an item secretly of his own make, though perhaps word of such had already spread. Still, in its short time, this already held memories. Dizzy, for the friend who showed him the highest of esteem and trust. Viktoriya, for joining him in his venture, even if he had to knock her out to do it. Siri, for the games they had played with the stone. Though there were more to name, he would think no longer. His hand opens. Goodbye.

 

Third, he held out a black orb, shimmering and ringed in gold, the image of stag, lion and mongoose within. The Drakaar's boon. A tool meant for bringing about the end of holy order's, it was also what brought him back to Haelun'or, inevitably where he found himself today. Without this, he would not have found friendship with Delonna, Orsino or Irhamir. Sanctuary would be but a warm island full of magic and thanhium, not the peaceful home of so many mages and others. Yet they were not above his parting. Goodbye.

 

Last but not least, he withdrew his literal support. The carved hickory had served him for a long time, far beyond the length of his limp. Yet it meant more to him than others dare know. The cane, I must. This, he held out with great reluctance, peering downward in a brief moment of sobriety. He thought of his shifting practice while disguised in Laureh'lin, and of how proficient he had become with his hidden dirk. Or of the handle, and how it resembled the platypus, his own protest to the naming process of Sohaer and Maheral. And then last of all, its initial reason for creation; the arrow which had nearly cost him his life. Viktoriya once more, for taking care of him, protecting him. Avenel and even Kelthran, for exacting his vengeance. Ciri, for being the first to find him. And most of all, Crumena, the righteous materialization of Order. Goodbye.

 

And now, it was his turn. His mind drifted from person to person, failure to failure, sorrow to sorrow. His thoughts were torn, riddled with short joys and happy moments, yet how could he dwell on those. He was alone, without those he cared for. Time for my goodbye.

 

There were no more descents that night. No great explosion to follow the others. No bold finale. For the elf above it all still clung by a thread. To watch another die is an insufferable penalty. I suppose it is no different for yourself. He sighs, annoyance wrought in his voice. Yet he does not dither. When it became clear to him his life would not be lost this night, he turned on his heel. Retrieving the key, he opened the old, rusting lock, and lowered himself into his former bed, defeated. For now, there was nothing more for him to do, yet he tried to reach out with one last thought to share before drifting off to sleep.

 

Goodbye.

[mmat 7460]

Somewhere in the vast and terrifying eons of space and time, a nest where all the light and good can barely reach and is snuffed out by the swirling blackness, a furious growl emenates, and a pair of stark yellow eyes burst open in an instant as the smash echoes throughout existence. They are filled with a seething rage and intent, seeming to train on some light far far in the distance, further than any mortal could see. An wingbeat of astronomical force seems to almost bend the darkness to its whim as the creature flies toward what he can see, fury his only sense.

 

 

Spoiler

 

I had some real fun playing this godly dude when I was an admin. and I think I did a decent job with him. I hope to play some sort of villain again someday. something's happening with this dude though i think.

 

 

[Elad™ 560]

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