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A Final Farewell

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Posted (edited)

A Final Farewell

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[!] A missive would be posted around the Principality of Aegrothond, The Underrealm of Urguan, the Druidic Grove, and the Princedom of the Fenn.

 

   Brothers and Sisters in the Silma and Friends and Allies without them, it is my sad duty as the Keeper of Malin’s Flame to announce the passing on of Loriens Silma. You may have known him as a brother, a father, a Commander, or as a High Prince, for the great man touched many in varying ways throughout his long time living in this world. From the Times of Malin to recent decades he sought to serve and protect elves however he could and brought the light of Malin’s teachings where ever he tread.

 

   I wish to invite all those in the realms to whic this missive is sent to a Memorial for Loriens Silma next month on the beaches near the city of Caras Aegrothond in the Principality of Aegrothond. I wish all of you peace, and May the Flame of Malin and whatever gods you hold always guide your path.

 

Signed:

 

Elros Silma, The Keeper of Malin’s Flame, Lord of the Silma, Councillor of the Seastone Court of the Principality of Aegrothond

 

OOC:

Spoiler

The Event will take place near Aegrothond on Sunday, April 7th, at around 2pm EST

 

Edited by SmartScout
wrong date

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Nei wasn’t all that liked, after all the incidents. His troubled relationship with Loriens only contributing, from a weird-ass bromance to some form of platonic friendship, the adopted Silma had the news delivered to him via... uncanny means. Staring at the letter, the mali’ker would allow some tears to drop and crash against the paper, ripping it apart and throwing the pieces away.

 

Fuck! ****, ****, ****!!!!

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Posted (edited)

Evar’tir receives the missive, dipping his head in remembrance. 

Edited by ChaseusBelli

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Received a missive, while being farthest away from cultural elvendom, the mage bent his neck in solemnity, frowning.

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hannibal doesnt even get the paper “haha cool”

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Renee would read up the invite, tears falling down to her face once more, as the recent news of this happening even had just passed to her. Yet she knew, this was probably one of the last times for her to really show honor to her dead father. 

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Alaric silently dips his head - although being too far away from civilization to mourn the loss of a brother. "I will only surrender to mourning when I see his damned body."

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Across hundreds of oceans of sinister depth, plains of shimmering stalks of silver grain, through dungeons deep and walls risen high, and through a canopy of vermilion soaring above it all – a sense of presence becomes known to the Keeper’s last of kin. Nearly as though the aged, paled ginger walked through the long streets of the Dominion again, his chattering tones mingling with the business of the city’s once bustling square, which now laid in ruin.

 

Nearly as though he was sitting once more before their Hearth, humming lullabies to the younger Mali’, who had all now grown old and carried blades like the Knights Loriens had told them they would become.

 

Nearly as though he stood beside his brothers again, arms crossed and brows furrowed as they always were when bad news came, which did so all too often.

 

Yet to any who turned their gaze to the Hearth would know the Keeper’s demise true. The Flame of Malin roared on - and thus,  The duty of Loriens Silma was fulfilled. 

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“Mighty unfortunate” – Aewion murmured to himself as he shed a single tear. 

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Miklaeil Silma stood out in the midst of a thick wood, fog and darkness surrounding him besides the small campfire before him. A letter sat on the ground beside his tanned and golden form, adorned in green and grey. His eyes stared into the crackling flames alongside a thoughtful frown, his hands clasped against his lips. His mind was filled with the images of days long past, hours spent listening to stories of yore and of beautiful, bright days in a city lost as well. The retired Keeper stayed like this for a long while, until rays of light shone through the canopy above him like gleaming beams of hope.

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