A Dance of Desolation

[Icarnus 1669]

 

A  Dance of Desolation

 

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ea2WoUtbzuw&t=110s

 

 

 

The effusive lack of tranquility reverberated within mind - deafening tones continuously flooding his congnizance as multitudes of harsh, discordant sounds were uttered in the direction of the snow clad Krepost.

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An olden Knight wiped his brigandine in a hastened flurry, an outstretched gauntlet pawned upon the collar of the young garnered boy as he continued his advance in an unremitting fury. A nameless towheaded child guided the two forth, rising the stone fringed stairway of the palace whilst unclipping the cloth linen of his scabbard; upon ascenion he'd lower his shoulder, striking upon the doublet of wooden doors. His brisk pace taking to an abrupt halt, peerage scanning a room of sinister destruction beyond comprehension. It all seemed a dream, as if a bountiful blur of blinding visceral perplexity. Scorched and burnt, drapes were cast upon the blood spattered cherry toned floorboards - the leftward side of the room probating a scene of melodramatic occurrences: being the progeny of the Queen Sophia set aflame, clutched within her now-alight palms.

 

On the right ushered a duo entrenched within the corner, weapons drawn. Out of something of unexplained rage or instinct, Ser Laurens immediately slew outwardly his broadsword - ordering his squire the same.

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As the grizzled Knight brought forth his approach he was stricken upon the chest by a small rapier of the leftward elf, piercing his brigandine as he now held it intently within his blood soaked leathered gauntlet. Unyielding, Laurens continued onward and with one accompanying thrust he brought the entirety of his sword through the elf's torso until the crossguard of his blade met their clothed figure - the elven belligerent peered upon Laurens, face to face, eye to eye.

 

The elf held steadfast in stature, writhing in pain as it spat blood upon the face of the Knight - not long before it would be cut down like a tree from its roots, the young squire Bryce  hacking at its figure with vehement swings which could rival the greatest of warriors. Yet the arduous task had not yet taken an end, for there was another which retreated into the back rooms. Bryce charged forth, unaware that his Knightly protectorate followed suit swiftly to his hind - upon recognition that this elf would not suffer such an easy fate at the tip of their blades, for it began to charge something of a magic beam. Laurens, continuously clasping at his bloodied frame, brought himself upon the squire just as the blast ensued.

 

It was an untimely end, deposed of his life in but a matter of seconds - yet naught in vain, for the squire breathed on.

 

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tl;dr

 

Ser Laurens dies

[Ticklem0nster 103]

o7

[Security_ 2287]

Ludwig soaks in his own juices, hundreds of feet under ground, saddened by the death of the knightly man.

[Arhbi 181]

Frederic de Ruyter would mourn for his brother; feelings of despair overcoming him. For the coming months he’d find himself stuck in a pit of guilt and lonliness, unknowing of what might of happened if he had been there to help prevent such tragedy. 

[Keening 1264]

Renault de Roth salutes his fallen captain, mourning the loss of a great friend and leader. For the following days, he engages in habitual drinking, knowing in full that there was no way to prevent this catastrophe.

[tilly 5115]

Octavia frowns after being delivered the news by a nameless crier, and hurries home, not wishing to succumb to the grief that overwhelmed her in the public's eye.

[FistfulOfData 1]

Manfred bows his head in silent respect for his mentor. More saddened than he might like, he pushes his grief to the back of his mind, knowing that no man deserves his tears. 

[Arsenal 28]

Trash

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.