A Knight's Passing

[Taketheshot 3834]

 

A Knight’s Passing

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Spoiler

 

 

 

Ser Phillip hobbled over towards the nearby boulder off the shoulder of the road, tabard coated in crimson, his lifeblood followed, a trail from the center of the path where two of the bandits lay dead. Phillip looked down, it had been too long; he could see it now, the seam where the shoulder of the mail met the gambeson had torn and left an open gap. The afternoon sun beat down as he slowly slid his back down against the rock with a wince. “The mail, the damn mail” he said with a rough cough, foamy red coming out onto his gloved hand. The common bandits had nothing more than rusty daggers and were quickly dispatched but all it had taken was a swift strike and thirty year old plate mail.

 

The world was not the same as it once was. Too much had changed, Ser Phillip thought to himself. A dying breed, last of a generation, he realized as he wiped the bandit blood from his sword with careful precision. “Ninety years for an Empire…” he muttered through a sputtering cough. From the age of twelve he had pledged his sword to humanity and now at the old age of one hundred and three. But the world had changed, gone were the days of humanities supremacy, guarding the world from the horrors of Mordring in the Westerlands, a strong religion and the poor fellow soldiers of Horen to guard it. The sands of time would cover all, and here he was, a pillar in an ever rising sea. Ser Phillip took the time to pen several letters stowing them into his satchel.

 

With a struggle phillip removed the clips of his tabard on his armor, letting the purple and yellow tabard of the Empire of Man fall to the side,  With the last of his fading strength he pulled an old faded cloth from his satchel clipping it on where the other had slid off. The purple and black tabard of the Holy Orenian Empire flapped proudly against the old man's body. Ser Phillip shuddered as he looked up to the sky his long gray beard covered in a fine red as he coughed once more. He could see in his fading vision several Legionnaires rush past the bodies, going to scramble up the hill. Leaning against the rock he took his last breath as he closed his eyes for a final time.

 

As he felt the burden lift off him he awoke to a land of green, around him were men in familiar tabards of purple and black, green and black, red and black, ash trees, and white cloaks with red crosses. The world he belonged to was gone now and in its place stood a new one.

 

As Ser Phillip passed so did an age of heroes, King Leopold, King Caius, Ser Rakim, Aurelius Horen, Ser Reeves, Ser Vitallius, Ser Avery, Brother Bob, Ser Niwarsay. All gone now.

 

Ser Phillip of the House Marshall, the last knight of the Holy Orenian Empire, had died.

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Emperor John V Frederick rallies Orenian forces prior to the battle of the Vinyard circa 1616

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Several Letters would be found on his person

 

Emperor Antonius I

Spoiler

 

“Your Imperial Majesty, it is with heavy heart that I must confide in you my service has ended. From the time I was twelve I wielded a sword in the name of a Horen. Leopold, Caius, John V Frederick who gave me my spurs, Peter the second, John the sixth, Frederick Pius, Aurelius, Augustus and then yourself. I've given my entire life for House Horen and for God. Many things changed but my loyalty remained true throughout it all. I've served your family for near a century, but my time has come to an end. I hope that I gave my service well in those many years and I bid you farewell.”

 

 

Rozmeo Kastrovat

Spoiler

“Rozmeo, I know not if you noticed, but i see a lot of myself in you. The will to push forward, the strength to lead and loyalty unquestioned. What you have that i didn't, was the blessing of youth to go further than i could. Im proud to have called you my friend, and i know you will continue to go forward despite my leave as all good soldiers do. Goodbye my friend.”

 

Ilythia Arator

Spoiler

“Ilythia, when i was ten years old, I watched as three dark elves burned six women alive in a cage, their children watching from the departing slavers cart. When we exited the shrubbery to that horror, myself and the other men of the Westerlands killed every single dark elf indiscriminately from that point on. For Seventy years, yours was a race of distrust and danger. But it seems that has changed. As much as my opinion on the matter of dark elves could be changed, you effected that and that was no easy feat. You have many years in this world my friend. I hope you serve the Empire for the rest of them.”

 

[squakhawk 14044]

Illythia would shed tears to her lost friend. She read over her letter mournfully, choking as she got to the end.

“Yours was the path.. a strong leader, a capable fighter, and an excellent friend. I will honor your memory and treasure the time we spent.

He was a man take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.

Rest well in the sky, long undeserving of a man so righteous.”

She’d keep the letter in her bookshelf, preserving it well. She’d then thought on how to continue The Knight’s Legacy. 

[Destroyer_Bravo 1054]

Maly’thill resolves to attend Phillip’s funeral, as a man who he has fought with and against at various points in the past.

[Auriel_ 652]

“To the Seven Skies.” 

He raises a silvered chalice with a frown, murmuring and falling into a drunken stupor.

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

“lit” – hannibal

[Enlightenment 2300]

Adelhelm offered his former master a nod, signing the lorraine across his chest, “Taught me a good number of lessons, for the little time I was his squire.”

[Chase 3793]

Conan Vallberg af Morr frowned deeply, raising his tankard for a moment for the man he once fought alongside. 

[Zhikarta 4064]

Resting within the confinements of his home, Ser Aldis Chase thinks backs fondly of the many years he spent serving alongside of Ser Phillip. "It was an honour, Ser Phillip. You will be missed."

[LithiumSedai 5750]

“All of us live on borrowed time,” remarked Jan Sigmar, in relation to his fellow knights; the ancient Waldenian mourning the passing of a yet another soldier of old. “The only question is how long.” He, too, reminisced of a world that once had been, recalling the triumphant cheer that resounded on the day the Imperial Proclamation of John the Fifth had been read to his comrades and his bandaged, crippled self, in the hospital near Metz.

[Vaasek 224]

13 hours ago, NoZaku said:

“lit” – hannibal

“lit” – kargoth’raguk

[Cracker 4570]

A cloaked figure bearing a black crown lays flowers at the grave of Oren’s last knight.