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The Rest Without Rust [PK]


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Looking at the fireplace, at the crackling fire and the burning wood, the old priest sits in a chair inside his room, holding the Hussariyan cross in his right hand. Little by little, he would run his hand over the wound on his face, going back to the time of the battle around Reinmar, a battle which ended the lire of the good..

 

Recalling the grieving moment when his dear cousin, Brandt went on a long journey, Alfred would always look into his arms, wondering to himself, "What purpose do you have, if you could not protect my cousin.." , and so he wonders, sitting in front of the fireplace, calm and serene, remembering Brandt and their shared moments throughout his childhood, growing up, and even later life.

 

The day his cousin died remained in his memory. If prayer can't help him, then who can? He spent time with himself, remembering Brandt as a child, during his stay in New Reza, and their adventures which, by chance, brought them into various troubles and interesting moments. "You were, and will remain in the hearts of all of us, and especially in my heart, cousins ... No one will ever forget you, because you are the person who beautified us every day, joking around yet being serious in the same time..", the elder man chuckles to himself, rubbing his cross, a cold expression on his face, "Though, it seems you were right about that dream, Brandt.. may Saint Tylos bring you to the Seven Skies, together with Nicolas.. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it, so please, cousin.. if you can hear me.. do know that you took me with you, even if I'm here...", he signs a cross of Hussariya, before dropping his head to the side, on a pillow which was next to him, closing his eyes slowly as he recalls Brandt, and only Brandt, his cousin, and the best Barclay that ever existed while he was alive..

Edited by rep2k
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"Fur Brandt! Blood fur Barclay!" was the cry that echoed across the fields of Reinmar that day as the men of the HRA made their charge to avenge Brandt. The young squire Albrecht Mondblume, numb and heart stricken by the loss of yet another knight, used the last of his zeal to plunge his longsword into Bido's spine. It would never bring Brandt back, nor would it ease his Uncle and mentor Cedric Barclay's grief, but he hoped it would make Brandt smile from the seven skies.

 

He had never spoke to him, but only sat and watched in silent reverence as he shined Cedric's armour while the father and son spoke to eachother a few saint's days before the battle. However, as he stood in the dim light of the Reinmar Chapel where Brandt lay he still felt a pang of grief. Squires like him could only wish to become the kind of Knight that Brandt was. Standing, drenched in the sweat and grime of battle, he saluted the fallen hero and walked away.

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Marie had carried the body of the now late Ser Brandt Barclay up the steps to the clinic, laying him down on one of the clinic beds in silence. She removed the red wolf pelt from herself, laying it over his body before one last hug. "Ich will miss vu, Uncle Brandt... Rest well. Ich will see vu in the seven skies, ich am sure."

Awaiting up in the seven skies is Marcella Avern-Barclay, who opens her arms to take Brandt into a tight and long awaited hug. "I am sad to see you so soon... liebe. But welcome. You've worked so hard in your life. Rest now, you are with family still and the others will join when the time is right." At this, Marcella beckoned her grandchild through the gates and among the throng of other Barclays that waited to greet their kin.

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The Paramount of Hanseti-Ruska, occupied by other duties, rest a hand over his chest plate, from where a pained ache would not quite subside. His letter would later arrive, as he occupied his mind elsewhere in the knightly halls, hours before, he had seen Ser Brandt -- and in a way, he could still feel the presence of him. A one-over sufficed for the long-suffering memory of Ser Alric. "A dobry man." Taking his leave subsequently, he wends his way through the palace of Karosgrad, hoping to hear from the other knights of the orders.

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Joseph Gaultier sits in the church of Reinmar having prayed with the now deceased Ser Brandt right before the battle of Reinmar once defrosted from his frozen state inflicted by the terrible power of the Rimetrolls Joseph stands up and weakly wobbles over to the corpse of Ser Brandt placing a hand over his cold armor letting out a hefty grun "Teh dah seven skies ye go Brother..." hed let out closing his eyes for a moment before stepping back and saluting the corpse of the old crow that had fallen

Edited by ThatDutchFellow
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Konstantin Wick remembered Brandt from the very first meeting of the Knight's Table, where the then-squire had sat with eyes shining, all full of piss and vinegar.

 

It was an all-too familiar feeling for him, reading of the death of a man he had known as a boy. Not an entirely bad feeling, but a bittersweet one.

 

He was glad Brandt had gone so far. He was a good man, Konstantin decided; one of the precious few left.

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2 minutes ago, Xarkly said:

Konstantin Wick remembered Brandt from the very first meeting of the Knight's Table, where the then-squire had sat with eyes shining, all full of piss and vinegar.

 

It was an all-too familiar feeling for him, reading of the death of a man he had known as a boy. Not an entirely bad feeling, but a bittersweet one.

 

He was glad Brandt had gone so far. He was a good man, Konstantin decided; one of the precious few left.

 

Even in the seven skies, Brandt remains Sir Konstantin's number one supporter and fan, as he had been throughout his entire life.

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In the direct aftermath of the death of Brandt Friedrich had decided to bring his men and to charge the trolls which had cause his death. As he charged he felt numb. "Blood for Barclay!" He cried out as he continued to lead the charge. When the other men repeated "Krusae Zwy Kongzem, Blood for Barclay." He had known that Brandt had left his mark, that he would forever go down in history. Bido was later slain, likely the mastermind of the attack, yet Friedrich paid for it with his leg. Despite the high price he knew he had made the right decision.

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Fyodor Erhdhart sits with his family out in the countryside as he reads over the letter. He'd frown as he looked over the missive of Ser Brandt's death. "So another one of the old guard dies out eh?" he'd sigh "Brandt was a good man and a worthy student of my papej. I hope he's drinking with everyone in the seven skies. Maybe I'll join ye soon enough"

 

Stefan B. Vyronov follows after Friedrich with revenge in his eyes over Brandt's death. He struck forth and chucked a carrion towards the leader of the trolls Bido. He would cry "Blood for Barclay! Blood for Mariya!" as the cocktail exploded over the troll, ending it's life.

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Adryana sheds a tear as the news of her old friend breaks to her, "You were good, Brandt. Aloha, my friend," she notes then towards the sky, taking the rest of the day off of her duties to mourn.

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Mio Mackensen sat upright in his bed, the very aged and brittle veteran grumbling to himself as he read over the missive that was hand delivered to his home. It felt like just last week Brandt had delivered him a basket of cabbages and news of the treasurers new doing, but now he sat hearing of that same mans death "Oh that Brandt Barclay, you know, ich remember everything about him, fighting alongside him in the Scyfling war, his wedding, und him finally becoming treasurer! He lived such a... fulfilling life! A very successful yet humble man." The mans gaze turned over to the door, meeting eyes with the young Erich Barclay who sat on the flood listening to the mans rant "Ich am sure you will be just as great as your uncle  . . . maybe better." He set the missive down and closed his eyes for the night, pondering on all the great moments him and the man had so long ago.

@GoodGuyMatt

 

Spoiler

c2yMrFk.png
Mackensen truly died at his wedding.

 

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Osvald Barclay, upon receiving news of his cousin's death would take a deep breath of sigh. He shook his head in solemnity. From forth his bed in Haelun'or, he imagines himself on campaign with Brandt, as they rode into the organised line of the Scyfling army with a well-versed charge. 

 

"Perhaps I did not save you from your fate, but only delayed it, son." He would utter to the starry night of the Silver City, as if Brandt was looking down upon him.

 

For all he could know, Brandt fell on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole Almaris, that the reports of the local Haelun'orian scouts that he acquainted himself with confined itself to the single sentence: 'All quiet on the North.'

 

Osvald, in all his hopefulness imagined turning him over to see that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come, as though sleeping. 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Adelric Cardinal Freising, received the letter that his father had trusted Friedrich with too late, along with the news of his beloved father's demise. He took a deep sigh upon reading the words that his father left him. Much to Friedrich's surprise, the Cardinal simply raised his grey eyes, eyes of his mother with what seemed to be complete apathy. He slowly slid his letter into his pocket and shook his head, placing a hand upon his cousin's shoulder, showing concern as the Duke travelled so far just to carry out his duty for family, despite missing a leg from the battle that took his uncle. @ColdestPepsi

 

"Let the months and years come, cousin. From now on, they can take nothing from me, as they can take nothing more. And so I can confront them without fear. The man that has borne me through these years is still in my blood and my body. Whether I have subdued it, I know not. But so long as it is there it will seek its own way out, heedless of the will that is within me. Perhaps I'd like to think of  my brothers and I as Brandt, split into four, with Cedric embodying his military background, Albrecht his thrift, I his wit, and Lorenz his compassion. So worry not, and tell our kin to wipe their tears, for we all live through the man, and God preserves both us and him."

 

The Cardinal then proceeded to pack his bags from Reinmar in front of the Young Duke, going over to shine a smile of resolve to the man. "I would like to go in seclusion, in the North, and deliberate. If I reach an ancient wisdom, I shall tell it to you."

 

And so Adelric departed from his Bishopric into the North. He sought the path of Joren and Owyn. There, he secluded himself in an ancient cave, and dined on the sacred root and bitter juices granted onto him by God and nature. He drunk from the crevices and still lakes of the cave, of which he believed them to be coming from the waters of Gamesh. And he saw that God provided him. Upon looking on the mirror image of himself in the water, he could almost see Brandt, and his missing eye. His father smiled back at him from the seven skies, with Nicolas, Wilheim, Marcella, Tylos, Conrad and other countless of his kin behind him. 

 

And he saw that it was good.

 

 

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Lorenz Barclay left the battlefield early to attend to some serious unknown business of his. He was on the far left side of the battlefield aiding The previous Marshal Manfred Barclay and His cousin the sharp shooter Alfred Barclay. He excused himself that he needs to go at the near end of the battle with the trolls when there was only one left. he knew that his presence is unnecessary since there were more than enough soldiers to help kill this last troll. he climbed the hill he was on and upon reaching the top he glance his father Brandt and Bruder Cedric retreating after delivering a successful attack on the troll. he kissed two of his fingers and raised them to face his Father and Bruder and prayed to St.Tylos to watch over them in his absence. Later that day in the middle of the night, as he just walked through the gates clearly just finished his business, one of his brothers at arms whom he was guarding the gates that night recognized Lorenz, The guard frowned….. “Sir” The guard said pausing for a moment “I'm sorry for you lost sir….” he said as he glanced at the ground beneath Lorenz. Lorenz eyes widened greatly, he held the guard by his shoulder with a grib that would crush someone if he had more strength, Lorenz asked with a voice of someone who’s trying to be calm “......Who died…?” Lorenz asked after a few seconds of getting himself together….The guard responded almost instantly fearing that he angered Lorenz “S-S-Ser Brandt Barclay!” he exclaimed informing him with his father’s death…..The young man’s arms slided off the guard’s shoulders as he now formed an expression of sadness and regret. he stood for a few seconds then rushed towards the hospital, upon arriving the Hospital staff would greet Lorenz with sad expressions. he merely walked past them with not showing any kind of emotions. as he walked down the stairs to the morgue, entering the room he was met with a large figure lying on top of the table in the center of the room covered with a large white cloth. Lorenz approached the table after giving the doctor a nod to leave him alone for a few. with shaky hands he removed the top part of the cloth off his father’s face. as soon as he saw his father’s cold face the man that never showed any kind of emotions to anyone ever except three people Broke down, his whole body started to shake as he placed the palm of his hand on his father’s face… he leaned down giving his father’s forehead a kiss.. as he glanced down on cold face of his father, Tear drops started to splash on his father’s face as Lorenz cried a river for the being he loved the most and looked up to… few second in the future the doctor was about to enter the morgue she stopped as she saw the man Lorenz Barclay on his knees by the table crying like a little boy for the first time in 25 years. she slowly retreated with a word leaving the man to cry himself out. few minutes...after crying himself out he stood up with red eyes, he brushed his father’s hair back one more time and give him one more kiss on the head before covering him once again. leaving the room knowing that this was the last time he would ever see his father. Lorenz turned towards the person who he can cry himself out with, the love of his live Ava Sirsk, he used the keys he was given to enter her house quietly, for him to see her sitting on the couch writing one of her new books. upon seeing her he fell on his knees and started to break down, the woman rushed towards her lover hugging him as she already knew why was he crying….. Brandt sure made Lorenz what he is today. Brandt’s death left Lorenz with a huge scar that may never heal…

 

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William Carolus had heard for Ser Brandt’s end from Fionn upon his return home, William was devoid of breath, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt the tears run down his face, he thought of how he had his last conversation with Ser Brandt earlier that saints day, and he remembered that he never actually got a chance to say goodbye. He remembered how Brandt and Jackson had been like father figures to him when he first joined the army in his 15th year. He thought back to how he had gone to Brandt for polearm training, teaching him in the ways being a proper soldier during his time as an initiate. 

 

He smiled at these memories before going to his liquor cabinet and pulling out one of his finest bottle of Carrion Black he had bought from Brandt. William grabbed two glasses, followed by popping the cork off and pouring out some of the contents off his balcony in respect of the legendary man. He poured Fionn and himself each a glass of Carrion and Toasting the man. “May you finally rest, Ser. Godan knows you earned it” he said as he finished off his drink before going to pray for the Knight and the Barclays in their time of grief.

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