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Posted (edited)

“From immigrants to councilors” the now aged Rhenyari would mutter, “I remember when I was but a boy tasked with heading the Department of Foreign Affairs under you Uncle.” He’d pause, taking a breath, “The work you have done has been monumental to the Empire, the land I- no we now call our home.”

 

Edited by Dyl

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A letter is shared with Simon, sent via courier. @Cracker

 

Mr. Basrid,

 

Upon hearing of your retirement, I felt provoked to write a poem. Your long and dedicated career, and your repeated reinforcement of this beautiful idea – the Tapestry of Man – compelled me to capture this in prose. 

 

__________________________________________

“The Tapestry”
A tribute to Simon Basrid’s idea: the Tapestry of Man
_      _      _      _      _      _      _      _      _      _

 

Ours is not a melting pot
Do not buy this lie they taught

 

It is a tapestry of intersectionality
A beautiful painting of our propinquity


It captures the essence of all our hearts
While maintaining its component parts

 

The goal is not assimilation
Put simply, it is cohabitation

 

That we might escape our restraints
And live in the land of the saints

 

 

You have rendered upon the canvas of history an entire corner of the Tapestry of Man, Mr. Basrid. I pray the next generation of artists will possess a similar talent. To Providence indeed.

 

 

Your friend,

 

Victor Clement Halcourt

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Cyrus Basrid, would look read his newspaper in his familial home of Provins, his mouth agape at the sight of his Brother’s retirement, “My goodness it’s been forty-four years. How the time has passed since we journeyed here from the homeland. the Rubern war and many other trials and difficulties that the Empire faced..” pausing, he would look out of his window to glance at his son John Michael, a smile coming across his aged face.

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Douglas ‘Douggie’ Denims would read over the notice with a tear in his eye. He would exclaim to any who would hear him. “This Simon Basrid fellow knew how to talk and knew how to listen. Very rarely do you find someone who has mastered both skills. The Empire will miss his service and I look forward to seeing what he does next. I imagine some magical curiosity will catch his fancy.”

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Posted (edited)

George Galbraith would receive the missive, a faint smile encompassing his countenance, as he would read his thanks in the missive. The young Minister of the Crown would sit down with a sigh, after a long session of the Imperial Diet.

 

"Mister Basrid truly was a legend of statecraft- a diplomatic role model for myself, and I'm sure one for many generations. I am confident the history of Oren will remember his name. Words cannot express the great accomplishments of the Basrid Ministry, and the foundations of bureaucracy Mister Basrid has layed down for the due progress of our nation. I congratulate him and his everlasting legacy, and I will work my best towards upholding the prosperous future of Oren he dedicated half of his life and entire tenure for."

 

 

Edited by MrChenn1

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Derik would hear this news and smile “...glad you get your due rest Simon...you've done better than us all” he would salute in the direction of the palace, where Simon’s office once resided

 

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Sir Alaric DeNurem sat in his office-tower at the Palace grounds as he read the missive with an intent and saddened gaze, even as the notice was expected, reality hadn’t hit that DeNurem yet – And so such news did its task. One of the founding fathers of this era, Mister Basrid, passes on the mantle of his creation, truly will the doings of this Empire echo through the centuries to come.” The middle-aged Captain told, remembering the days he first met the former Archchancellor, during an address at the Novellen theatre – Rendering a salute to the aged, legendary Statesman.

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General Alren DeNurem receives the address from the great Basrid, taking a moment to reflect upon his words and the many years served in his ministry.

 

“I can think of no finer statesmen in the history of the Empire. To have come from humble origins and lesser means, to a station of monumental reach and legacy is a true testament of your personal character. The pillars you have set in place will be looked back upon fondly for generations to come and the Empire is forever changed by your efforts. Your facilitation for the military has enabled the martial powerhouse the Empire has become in the wake of great tragedies, you have lived and brought genuine providence to Humanity. From your comrades in the Imperial State Army, we salute you!”

 

And with that final word, the White Bull would render one last salute to a greatly respected man. Following suit, the entire ranks of the 1st Regiment, Imperial State Army, would also raise a stiff hand to their brow in recognition of the Arch Chancellors monumental service to the Empire.

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Sir Erik Othaman of the 2nd brigade would contemplate the retirement of such an influential statesman. He would smile fondly, remembering the few conversations he had with this man. ”It will be a shame that such a man must retire from his position, but the world moves on. He has made his mark on the Imperium and it will remain there for many years to come.”
 

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Posted (edited)

Captain  Velhrun Darkwood would receive the address, He would go through it in his mind a few times before noting to himself.

Truly a fine individual, his achievements have improved the empire on a fundamental level and most have reached beyond the boundaries of our borders improving not only the lives

of Imperial citizens but also lives of countless others. This is an example of the endless capability of humanity, of endless labor and complete dedication,truly impressive.

He would render a final salute to the exemplary individual.

Edited by DarkWrath94

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The elfess once known as Mariana Dubois smiled, merely bowing her head in kudos to the aged man. 

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Lieutenant DeNurem lit a second cigarette in the Archchancellors retired honor. She recalls the time he willingly soaked himself to welcome the Qalasheen in diplomatic business, solely because they’d entered the pool first.. for a reason she does not remember. 

 

“Simon Basrid, you served your house well. Congratulations.” A voice in her head spoke first, but the white-haired woman verbalized it. Her memories spanned far beyond what his might be. 

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James II remarks “I could say that the Empire will be lesser without the Archchancellor at its helm, but it would it understate his efforts—Simon’s legacy will endure into the centuries.”

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The veteran surgeon oversees the remodeling of his home as he writes a multitude of medical books for the Imperial State Army and the Grand Library of the Empire. An young envoy approaches him with a letter stating the retirement of his uncle, the Arch-chancellor, Simon Basrid. The Rhenyari stands up from his lawn chair and heads inside him home to the study where he had spoken to Aachen about furthering himself as a patriot of this great Empire. 

They spoke about three tasks for the young man to complete. Obtain a stylish clockwork watch, shadow the diplomats of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and offer the olive branch to his brother, Jahan. John Pruvia sits back into the small chair that was dwarfed by the many bookcases; the same place where Simon Basrid had shown him an old tradition of the Rhenyar. A hot cup of tiger-eye tea from his ancestral lands and a few drops of scorpion venom.

 

He steps up from his seat and assumes the desk from where his uncle had once guided him from. The Viscount whispers gently to himself as if Simon were in the room with him. “Thank you for taking me under your wing and treating me as your own. My gratefulness came in many different forms of affection and gestures, but I certainly to hope to offer you another gesture. A hot cup of tiger-eye tea with enough scorpion venom to numb our features and a chat about the next generation of Rhenyar that will continue on his legacy.”

 

The Lieutenant takes a sheet of paper from his desk and quickly pens his thoughts and sends his avian to the seven skies to deliver the message to the County of Susa.

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