The Clouds Were Beautiful Today

[The Media Wizard 2958]

“The clouds were beautiful today.”

 

Nobody responded. Nobody ever responded. The mali sighed, bringing the straw hat down from the crown of his head. He closed the door to the wooden cabin and began to prepare his dinner. Grilled fish and buttered bread. Again. The sun filtered through the windows of the study. The mali opened the loose door with a nudge of his foot; the smell of sawdust and fresh parchment filled his nose. It was perfect. Too perfect.

 

The mali took his seat and inhaled. The meat smelt wonderful. He reached a worn hand across the oak desk and slid his fingers around the stem of a quill. Dotting the tip in ink, he unfurled a new parchment piece. He set the tip of the pen to the upper-left corner — a pause. “It is time, I suppose,” he said with a labored sigh. No tears came: only words.

 

 

To those who knew me,

 

Have you ever found a memory too important to forget, yet not? A memory so vibrant and real that you swear that you could pluck a rock from it and it would appear in your hand? It is a feeling that is stronger than any emotion I can express on parchment. I have a memory like this. I am sitting on a small dock outside of Hawksong Manor. The city of Caras Eldar dwarfs all of my ambition in the sheer excellence of its architecture. A bird chirps; a fish splashes. I dip my feet into the pond and think about what I shall title my next published paper. It does not matter, but I dwell on it anyway.

 

I have lived my life. I have loved, hated, cried, laughed; and everything in-between. I have written papers about the struggles of mortal-emotions in politics while contemplating my next satirical play to perform at the Bedevere Theatre. I have many regrets, but none worth voicing. Those I have wronged are either dead or damned. Perhaps I will see them in the corner of the Nether I will establish Iblees’ treasury. A joke; or so I hope. Dreadful, the exchange rates on souls nowadays.

 

The truth, reader, is that I do not know what to say. My life has been so unendingly complex that to summarize my triumphs and failures in a single letter would see my skin rot away before I began to explain my time in Anthos. I suppose I shall write what I find most important right now: the world is a scary place. We live our lives as children at the park: wise to nothing but the blades of grass tickling our noses. However, we have each other. No policy or Prince of a nation impacts the world more than a helping hand. This is a lesson I had to learn the hard way.

 

I love each and every one of you very, very much. You changed the life I lived in unfathomable ways. You made the world I occupied the world that I wanted to thrive in. You — yes, you — are the reason I am blessed enough to write these words today. I can never repay each and every one of you for the love you have shown me, reciprocated or not. Know that it meant the world to me, nonetheless.

 

That memory I think back to. That memory sticks with me because it was the time of my life that the world meant nothing more than paper and politics. It was the day that I saw the world for the first time, and I never looked back. I look back every day now. Today, though, I look to the future: the future I’ve done my best to make possible. The future I will never see.

 

Keep the memory. You will need it someday.

Azoth Hawksong

 

The mali set the quill down. His eyes turned to the windowsill; the sun was setting, but he could still see the soft blue of the sky. A streak of white began to slide across the horizon as the soft blue of his eyes began to fade. The clouds were beautiful today.

 

Nobody responded. Nobody ever responded.

 

 

[An OOC message is below]

Spoiler

 

Hey, folks.

 

This is, as I am sure you can tell, my final post as Azoth Hawksong. I have had this character since June of 2013: a total of 7 years.

 

During October of 2019, I decided that Azoth’s story was due for an ending. I began to plan a complex and loving send-off for my character, but my first year back at university tossed those plans out of the window of a car going 75 MPH. After spending this evening re-reading old posts, though, I realized something. Azoth did not need a big, in-roleplay death. Azoth is a character near and dear to my heart, and what he needed was a send-off. His arc is done; his story is told.

 

It was not always a good story. I was 15-years-old when I began to play Azoth. In fact, Azoth is named after a character from a book series I read in middle school. He was started as the edgiest, assassin-wannabe in the history of Anthos; I was NOT a good player. I have made horrible mistakes. However, I refined his character over the years. He was brash and arrogant, but he grew to have a kind heart as I began to realize what it was to engage in meaningful roleplay. I grew with the character; we both became better people by the end of the journey. I, though, get to continue that journey. Azoth’s story has come to an end.

 

Love him or hate him, I ask that you treat this post with respect. I know that I have not gotten along with every person on this server in the past 7 years, but I want to express that I am a different person than I was as early as yesterday. It does not excuse my actions, but know that I have learned from every triumph and failure on this server.

 

With that, I bookend the story of Azoth. Thank you, Lord of the Craft community, for allowing this great journey to take place.

 

 

[Arkelos 1027]

Kyral took another moment to pause, another friend gone to the flow of time. Another person she cared for, gone. For all the world’s flaws, she only cursed the world when they took someone dear from her. Was it right? She didn’t care, so this time she muttered a “How many more must go before I am given my final toil? I feel as if I am given life unending just as a means of torture. So I ask again... how many more must go before I do?” she exhaled, closing the note, placing it along with the mountains of other notes, all from friends she’ll never see again. Hundreds, it seemed. She never counted, because that would give her an answer she never really wanted.

 

[OhDeerLord 673]

“..the room right over there.” The old druid speaks while he unrolls the letter, reading over the words. The chatter continues around him, muffled through his ears. He vaguely hears himself respond to a question, but he’s re-reading the page again. And again. 

 

Belatedly, he realizes he still has guests, and tries to school his features- and it fails to go unnoticed.

 

The voices shift to concern. “Is everything well?”

His vision is blurring, and the words around him consoling.

“I am sorry for what has been lost to you.”

 

The Will is folded in behind the notice of Azoth’s passing, and after some comforting words from his guests, the elf retires to his room.

Another duty, that will be done.

[Neropolitan 108]

The younger druid present for the receiving of the letter, adds another to the clasp of feathers bound just below the handhold of her staff. For while she never knew who he was, he had meant something to someone else. So too would she mark his passing.

[Ilikefooddude 430]

Thurak’s memories had been slipping, of late. They often slipped and found old friends.
Four Hundred Years. Laughter and languish and slaughter and tears and four hundred very, very long years had left Thurak wise, weary, and wanting every single one of those four-hundred back. Today, he wanted to see his friend again.

Chatlog: 2016-02-27
Azoth saves Thurak’s ass.

Spoiler

 

[18:33:34] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar: “Kikk 'em eehn da ballz! Guw! Guw! Guw!”

[18:46:41] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Wi neehd tu ged uwt!" He calls to Elphaba, going to grab onto he hand as he sprints towards the door
[18:46:58] [Shaman Elder] Elphaba'Gorkil is grabbed, she follows his lead, running with him.
 

[18:47:01] Garsto Leaff steps aside as the orc sprints past
[18:47:06] Enedor Pastly Lies groaning, covered in cake,
[18:47:10] [Herald of Xion] Chrodraeos: "I gather the feeling I've stumbled upon a dire situation.."

[18:47:48] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick: "Oi pale one outta the way or he'll bowl ya over too!" Coltaine Wick calls out to Chrodraeos
[18:47:55] [Herald of Xion] Chrodraeos: "Aye, I think you may be right.." He slowly backs away from the path of retreat.

[18:48:00] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar, slowing down a bit, attempts to rip the tome from Elphaba's grip, charge outside, and, then, spinning towards Coltaine, goes to peg the bloodied tome towards his forehead
[18:48:23] Garsto Leaff moves to slam the evoked flame into the side of Thurak's head as he passes before stepping back

[18:49:30] Coltaine Wick's head makes thud as the book pegs him, falling back "Gah!"
 

[18:49:49] [!] The square resonates with a satisfying 'Whoosh' As Thurak charges outside, greeted by the singing welcome of a fireball. He takes it to the head- spinning, tumbling, and then collapsing onto his back, eyebrows smouldering prettily, like thick, hairy coals.
 

[18:50:42] Azoth Hawksong: "Gleh, by the Light," he huffs, taking in a sharp breath as he waves his hand dismissively.
[18:51:08] Coltaine Wick: "Damn your light kill that thing!"

[18:51:13] [Shaman Elder] Elphaba'Gorkil: "Thurak! ledz gu!"
[18:51:40] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar seems to be smoking a bit more than usual. He groans up at Elphaba.
 

[18:52:00] Garsto Leaff looks down at Thurak, "Don't mess wid' us. Aight?"

[18:52:00] Azoth Hawksong starts out, hand raising up with staff in hand towards the building.
[18:52:02] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick drags himself several paces away

[18:52:18] [!]  The sky seems to begin to darken as clouds roll in.
[18:53:31] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick: "He assualted me! The great Coltaine Wick!"
[18:53:21] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar raises a hand, coughing as he's pulled to his feet. He goes to stumble over to Coltaine
[18:53:55] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick: "Gah get away!" flails a leg in his direction

[18:53:46] [!]  Suddenly, the sky shakes and booms! A lightning bolt rockets down from the heavens and strikes the tower, sending off sparks and explosions.
[18:54:06] Daniel 'Vince' Ward: "Woah, what the ****?"
[18:54:47] Azoth Hawksong steps forth as the lightning strikes, creaking and rocking being heard from the tower. He raises his arm.
 

[18:55:43] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Ah," He stumbles backwards, still smoking a bit- But in his hand, he holds the book!

[18:56:20] Azoth Hawksong's left hand goes to pat Garsto firmly on the shoulder. "LIGHTs out, eh?"
[18:56:40] [!]  As Azoth's hand meets Garsto's form, a shock rockets from his gauntlet, aiming to surge right up into the form of the man in an attempt to stun him for a good while.

[18:57:00] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar lowers the book, slowly pacing over to Garsto, "Ah-"

[18:58:34] Garsto Leaff is stunned, wavering in his standing about to fall over...
[18:58:39] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick hobbles over to Chro for protection
[18:58:57] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar blinks, turning towards Garsto, then Azoth, glancing down to the book, "Wehl..."

[18:58:58] Azoth Hawksong: "Don't you ever use your magic again to cause intentional harm. You've been warned," he snaps angrily

[18:59:04] Daniel 'Vince' Ward notices Thurak come near, stepping back slightly as he reaches to his side defensively.

[18:59:26] Azoth Hawksong: "Are you alright, dear Thurak?"
[19:00:09] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Ob korz, ob korzz," He pants, glaring accusingly as Garsto, "Juzd ah beet zmokki"

[19:00:22] Azoth Hawksong glances back to Garsto, miming invisible glasses. "Were you not the one to send an assault towards my dear uruk llir?"
 

[19:00:47] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Heer," He grunts, holding out the book, "Lat miyt neehd dizz."
[19:01:08] Azoth Hawksong: "I?" he asks Thurak softly.
[19:03:20] Azoth Hawksong: "Huh," he sounds, extending his hand to attempt and pick the book of softly.

[19:01:10]  [Traveler] Enedor Pastly Would be covered in cake "They attacked three people"
 

[19:02:12] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Dey flatted ahn albai wiff dizz," He nods, nodding his head towards the Sealed Tome. Upon inspection, the book seems to be sealed shut by a thick, gluey substance. It's covered in blood, saliva and, in some places, hair.

[19:03:40] [Court Wizard] Coltaine Wick slinks over, keeping Chro between him and the uruks
 

[19:03:54] Azoth Hawksong: "Also, Magi of this land, do note that the use of magic for ill intent or harm is strictly 'nu-uh'."
[19:04:02] Rem: "Off-lemons!"
[19:04:07] Azoth Hawksong: "Aye. Off-lemons."
[19:04:10] Garsto Leaff moves to look over Azoth's shoulder to see what the deal was all about.
 

[19:04:31] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Zurreh fur da fuzz," He grins, patting Azoth on the shoulder.
[19:04:55] Azoth Hawksong: "No worries, llir. I enjoyed using my new tool," he laughs, shaking his gauntlet.
 

[19:06:12] Garsto Leaff: "'Tis why I only burn't of his eyebrows."
[19:06:29] Azoth Hawksong: "Aye," he says, nodding to Garsto. "Just aim not to set fire, mm?"

[19:07:00] Azoth Hawksong: "I defend those who are in danger. I'm no Mage of the old College, mm?"
[19:07:25] Azoth Hawksong: "Nor am I some Kalameet impressionist. Now please, move along."
 

[19:07:21] [Motsham] Thurak'Yar "Keep da buuk zaef!" He calls, patting the Feuruk on the shoulder and sauntering off, leaving the Elves behind.

 

 

Thurak opens his eyes and lets a simple, sad smile slip onto his face. When he glances down to the paper at his desk and its fondly-familiar, beautifully calligraphic prose, he notices its marred by a few wet splotches. The ink spreads and muddies across the page. More than usual- more than ever, perhaps, Thurak wishes, quietly, that he could write back.

[Farryn 860]

Within the Soulstream, an old yet familiar face would greet Azoth. A glowing teal eye filled with warmth yet small sadness.

“...took you long enough, old friend. I was beginning to think we would not meet again,” Elvira smiled at him.