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Joseph II


John Ivory

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The city was spread in darkness when Valent heard about the news, he slowly adjusted himself in his seat - briefly considering the outcomes of the loss, before saying to himself. "Truly emperor to stand behind." He'd pause before exclaiming. "The Emperor is dead, Long Live the Emperor!"

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Corwin von Alstreim scribbled some insightful commentary onto the face of the missive, as a saner alternative to conversing with the parchment out loud. He then set off to light a candle for the man who claimed to be his King of Renatus, he who despised his would-be subjects so, and any who remained no doubt hated him in equal measure.

 

"There's no fun in this. I might as well die now too!" the elder murmured.

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Father Basil Moroul begins planning defenses to his abbey along the road to Oren, in preparation for pagan pillaging.

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From a faraway shore the aging figure of Godric would shed a tear for the last good leader of humanity. "He's not wrong, the age of heroes is truly gone and has been for some time." He would say to his dark elf maid. 

 

Spoiler

Posted wit permission from Godric's player

 

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The famous playwright Dame Yuliya Styrne would be among those ready to welcome the Emperor to his eternal home in the Skies.

 

"Has His Imperial Majesty finally finished his playwrighting homework?” the deceased authoress might gently tease upon encountering her sometime student. “No? Well, plenty of time to do it now.”

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"Long Live the Emperor." Otis spoke quietly following a brief prayer. 

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Spoiler

((y'all he ain't even buried yet))

 

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-YYn61Mo6bZ1OjPrQbgk_zGtj62OjnnlQbM9xQYGRPsMau-5I5Sp2bLx-RNkvYe_3g9UmjQNkYZRtVZVCqpmDfjac3SrX4xgJQjumckVbGhAMMrloDKIUAH-fncH9MI1PEWhXIPs

 

Jude II paused as he heard the echoing, hurried footsteps within the Papal Apartments, his terribly scarred hand setting aside the ink tipped quill he held. The aging Pontiff, seated at the desk within his study, called out then, "I am up here!" "Ah!" the attendant called, stepping up to the third floor in an ever consistently hurried fashion, "Your Holiness." The attendant bowed his head before placing upon the mahogany surface that freshly written parchment, "THE EMPEROR IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR.

 

"Your business has become that of death, hasn't it." The attendant offered a dry laugh, "..I suppose so, Holy Father." Jude nodded then before his burnt hand, still bandaged at either side, extended to take hold of a new piece of parchment and too, his quill after that, "Thank you. God bless." he said to the man, to which he departed. 

 

The sexagenarian, for hours, would pour over that paper in his study; the eulogy he would give for the late Emperor. Yet, even despite it's unfinished state, those hours later, the Pontiff would part from the desk and instead move to the balcony. There, among a growing collection of candles, did he place another. With match and the assistance of that same attendant, he would light it and there in silence pay respects to Joseph II. 

 

"A prayer?" Jude glanced to the man at his side, to which he nodded, "Of course, Your Holiness." and then bowed his head along with the Pontiff. "Oh Lord God, King of Kings, Lord of Lords. I, Your most humble Vicar, do beseech Thee to behold the late Joseph, eternal peace. It is among the halls of Augustine that, despite the duties of office, did the Emperor keep faith, and it is among those halls and those outside Augustine's confines that his sage advice and rulership did keep the Empire of Exalted Godfrey afloat." Jude paused for but a moment, before concluding, "It is in this; his duty of rule that he did serve You faithfully and so, I pray for his soul. That You, Oh Merciful Lord, might reward him the heavens."

 

The burnt hand of the Pontiff rose then to head, chest, and shoulders as he crossed himself, "In nomine Patris, et Horenus, et Exaltus Honorem. Amen." And so, "Amen." did the attendant repeat. "May God bless him."

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52 minutes ago, aiden0023 said:

An Italian styled man with a fantastic mustache, beady eyes, and blue overalls would do the same, spitting on the grave as well. He would then run back to his cave, tripping a couple of times along the way. Once reaching the cave, he would collapse to the cold ground due to his terrible asthma. 

 

Bolo Brutulus scraped shiny mina coins together in his fat little palm, smiling the Sun's Smile. Who could have guessed "1 mina to desecrate the Emperor's grave" would be such a lucrative venture? His eyes briefly departed to the muddy shovel propped up by his stall, and he wondered if he should put it away before someone got wise.

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Terrence May smiles upon seeing Joseph Clement entering the world beyond, "Ah, finally. How lovely that we can catch up for the rest of eternity!" 

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Margaret Helvets sulks over the loss of her great-uncle in her family’s home on Baker Street. “First my cousin, my brother, and now my great-uncle... this is catastrophic...” She’d sob, dabbing a lace handkerchief upon her sinking eyes. 

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A weary night settled down upon the fief of Camlannen within the Holy Orenian Empire. The tired Kairn Calithil pronounced to his kindred within the foothold of his castle in The Pale, 

 

"May he rest in peace. The Emperor is dead, long live the Emperor." 

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