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Erilobar

The Passing Of The Storm

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‘Only the fool fears nothing, but I would rather be the fool, than the coward.’

 

Tharik was born a peasant, Tharik Cloudhome, to loving parents, in a small Haeseni village. He was taught in the simple ways of fishing, and to live in harmony with the land. But Tharik always hungered for something more. He was an argumentative child, always butting heads with his father, Vorion, until one day, he was embroiled in such an argument, that, in a fit of rage, he left to sign up with a merchant shipping company, trying to escape the dreary life he had come to resent.

He would return to naught but ash and dust, ravaged by bandits.

 

Tharik, left with nothing to his name, set out again on the open sea, landing in the first town he could, Reza, in 1719. He found himself in a nation ravaged by war, and decided to do his part to defend his homeland. He soon met Mikhail Svarogovich, Bogdan Canoslav, and Irissa Loraethis. These people we fierce friends to him, and he kept them close. In time, he joined the Landser Levy, to defend his country. It was from this that his life-long ties to the Barclay household were born, and where he met Wilheim Barclay.

 

But as the war drew to a close, something else blossomed; Tharik and Irissa had fallen in love. The two were soon inseparable, and while keeping their relationship quiet to Haense at large for a while, they would spend the next three decades together, trying their best to live a peaceful life.

 

As the Brotherhood of Saint Karl underwent reform, and Tharik entered as an Initiate, he began to enter a second stage of his life. Gone was the rash, impressionable young lad that Tharik was, and in his place grew a smiling man of a sanguine nature, filled with wisdom he was all too happy to share.

 

He climbed very slowly through the ranks of the Brotherhood, no longer being a man of ambition, but instead one filled with a simple passion for living life, with his Brothers and friends. In the brotherhood he met many Brothers, and the blood of the covenant forged a strong bond of fellowship between them. Among them, were such names as Darien Reyne, Mieh North, Darius Morgraine, Aleck Graham, Elian Silrose, Aleksander Batory, Jonathan Frostfire, Marcus Erhdhart, and many, many more.

 

Eventually, Tharik and Irissa got married, sort of. The legality of a marriage between a human and a half-elf was such a legal landmine that they chose to briefly elope, swearing love until death did them part. This marriage was kept quiet, indeed many a conversation skated carefully around the question of whether or not they were technically married. Soon after the marriage, Tharik and Irissa had a set of twins, a boy and a girl, naming them Vorion and Zella. As was tradition with his family, Tharik chose to change his Surname. From Cloudhome, he chose to become Sturmholm; literally meaning 'the island from the storm'.

 

But, for those born as children of Horen, nothing is eternal. Soon, his friends started to pass from the world. Starting with Mikhail Svarogovich, he lost almost all his friends as the years progressed. Again, Tharik changed. The conversationalist that once was, grew quiet and formal, blunt and miserable. As possibly his best friend, Darien Reyne, was killed, Tharik took up the mantle of Commandant of the Chapter of the Crow. It was one he took with a heavy heart, knowing that he would prefer to follow a leader like Darien to the end, than to lead himself.

 

Throughout these many years, Tharik set up a shop, which proved fairly successful. He also started a bit of poetry, completing four sonnets, which even saw publication in the library of Haelun’or. He worked tirelessly on producing a play, but after all the years, he never quite managed to finish it. The mess of sheets still sit upon his office desk, waiting to one day be read as part of an act.

 

Tharik had a vendetta for the void. He followed Ser Roderick endlessly, helping eradicate Arcas of the void that plagued it. It was in these battles that Tharik first came face to face with Grief. Perhaps it was within these encounters that Tharik knew their lives were both interlinked, as fate willed so. Time and time again, Tharik saw Grief at the burning of old Reza, at the slaying of mother, and at the crushing of the voidal tear at Suitica. But, as said, their fates were tied; Tharik knew he could not truly live while Grief threatened the fate of arcas, of his friends, of his family.

 

Tharik, at long last, would finally meet Grief, face-to-face, at his home. Finally, he fought the monstrosity, alongside the other descendants of Arcas. But, as the battle drew to its end, it became all too evident that some would have to stay behind, to ensure that all others could escape. Tharik, now just reaching into his second century, knew that his days of glory were behind him: he chose to stay behind, to defend his fellow brothers, to the end.

 

Tharik chose to stay, to protect those he loved most dearly. In his last moments, with the void crumbling around him, he prayed for the safety of his family. He closed his eyes, and let the end take him.

 

And so ends the tale of Tharik Sturmholm:

Veteran of the War of Two Emperors

Commandant of the Chapter of the Crow

The Last Landser

Merchant

Poet

Father

Husband

Friend


The Last Will and Testament of Tharik Sturmholm

 

The executor of this will shall be Ser Roderick of Haenseti-Ruska.

 

All I posses that is not mentioned below will pass to my heir and son, Vorion Sturmholm

 

Deducted from the funds that would pass on, I shall pay for any funeral expenses. I paid for every drink while I was in the tavern in life, and I do not intend to change that habit in death! Make sure to drink all the Black you can, and be merry. My passing should not be a reason for mourning, but instead one for celebration, move forth with your head held high, Haense, for I would ask for nothing less.

 

To the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, I leave all my reserves of iron. It is a great amount, and should last for a good while.

 

Jonathan Frostfire, I leave you my knife. It served me well when I was sailing, and I certainly consider it lucky. It has helped me out of many a tight scrape, and I've no doubt it will help you too. Ease your rage, and learn to slow down in life. It served me, and it shall serve you too.

 

Marcus Erhdhard, you have been a dear friend to me for many years. I ask that you look after Irissa in my passing, ensure that she is alright, and I do not leave you my shop. Don't even try. You're allowed to keep that stall in it, and no more.

 

Elian Silrose, I leave you a message of recommendation. Even in war, you refused to take up arms against your home. Your ambitions were great, but even then, you still held Haense in highest regard. In my passing, I fully support your reintegration with Haeseni society, however much my support may be worth.

 

Zella Sturmholm, You were born into a world that would leave even the greatest of women out of the candlelight, and so, such that you may forge a grand path of your own, I leave you a small sum of three-thousand mina. Make each and every coin count, and never let your ambition fail you, for it is your greatest strength.

 

Irissa Sturmholm, We both knew this day would come, and we have discussed it thoroughly. You still have a long life ahead of you, and, one way or another, you find a way to move on. No matter the toil, grief, pain, I hope that you can find the joy in life once move. So, I ask you, travel, take risks, make experiences, and fall in love again. Life is both too fleeting, and too magnificent to be wasted. I leave you the orchid I picked, the day I asked you marry me, under the moonlit, blossoming trees. The orchid still blooms, though how it does is, of course, far beyond a man like me. May it signify our love eternal, even with my passing. By the way, the Krugsmas presents are in my office drawer.

 

And lastly, my son, Vorion Sturmholm, I leave the world. You need only reach out and take it.


 

'The Ship that Fades'

By Tharik Cloudhome

Previously known as 'Sonnet 3'

There is a ship that fades into the sea, 

Her sails, for one last time, will rip and tear, 

Her sailors have spent and drunk their final spree, 

Her voyage beyond eye is one so truly fair.

 

There is a soldier, breathing his final breath, 

The cries for mercy he screams out to his lord: 

The curses that he may come to know death, 

The hand a-gripped upon his holy sword. 

 

There is a poet whose pen lies deadly still, 

The words once wrought have wrung their final rhymes. 

The pages long were lost to eyes until 

The letters read, they were but ancient lines.

 

A man may stare into the void and fear,

But staring back, I shed but joyful tears.

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Aedan would shed a tear, as one more of those from his time passed.

 

Turning to Jonathan and Marcus, he would simply say "Don't die."

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6 minutes ago, Aidoro said:

Aedan would shed a tear, as one more of those from his time passed.

 

Turning to Jonathan and Marcus, he would simply say "Don't die."

Jon simply gives Aedan a thumbs-up, looks at the Sky and says “Damn, just me left, eh?” before returning home to let out his Rage on some Training Dummies

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Friedrich Barclay Would hear off the passing off Commandant Sturmholm, as he did not know Tharik that well he wasnt struck too harsh, but yet saddend to see such a loyal soldier and man fall he stated: "May the seven Skies find you Commandant Sturmholm" 

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Ivan would read this with tears dropping to the floor. "Why are all the good ones dying first". he'd say with a sigh...

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*With crutches in hand, Marcus would shed a tear, From the early days of the brotherhood he rose the ranks with Tharik and now, with his passing, amongst himself, little remains of the old brotherhood. He’d look up at the skies and solemnly say.* “We had great times, old friend, may you rest in peace, I’ll uphold your honour, and do as you ask of me.”

 

*He later answered Aedans demands.* “We’ll see lad, we’ll see....”

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Claus would be leaning on a tree on top of a mountain looking at a sunset, suddenly a crow with a note attached on his leg would land on Claus shoulder, as he opens the note he reads “Claus Tharik Sturmholm has passed away.  – M. S.”  Claus would put a sad face and says “Another Great Man Has Fallen In The Hands Of Death” he then would throw the note of the cliff

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