FATHER GRIFFITH OF GWYNON

[JoanOfArc 4604]

FATHER GRIFFITH OF GWYNON

Lucien Ashford de Savoie

Father Griffith of Gwynon

Malgath Maehr'tehral

Cardinal Gawain Briarwood

1743-1836

“The world is beautiful when you have the peace of the Lord in your soul, brother”

-Blessed Pius of Sutica on his deathbed to his caretaker, Father Griffith of Gwynon, 1802.

---

 

 

When Griffith was shipwrecked on the coast of Arcas after traveling from Gwynon, he knew it was not the day. 

When Griffith was exiled from Qalasheen lands after Fatima passed, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith saw St. Lucien appeared and told him he was to die, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith awoke to Godfrey Briarwood over him after he performed a ritual on him, he knew it was not the day. 

When Griffith heard Vaeri had passed, he knew it was not the day. 

When Griffith heard that the Silver City was no longer a republic, he knew it was not the day. 

When Griffith heard Father Pius of Sutica had passed, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith heard his son was fighting against the Empire, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith lost the Pontifical election, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith heard Damien and the Briarwoods had passed, he knew it was not the day.

When Griffith left his seat on the College without a word, he knew it was not the day.

But when Griffith awoke to find his body with boils and sores, he knew it was the day.

On the coast of the Duchy of Gwynon in the Aeldinic Empire, lay a small ranch with a Yar bastard who managed it when his father was away. This bastard, Nafis Yar, and his father, Griffith of Gwynon, watched helplessly as the latter’s body slowly decayed from the boils and warts. The healer of the nearby town told the two that he was unable to do anything more, and had a priest come to offer confession to the old man. 

"Your sins, Father Griffith." the priest had spoken quietly.

"Much and more, father. Much and more." the Savoyard responded, going through confession well into the night. 

After the priest had left, Nafis left Griffith to sit in the rocking chair on the doorstep of the small house. There, the Savoyard could do nothing but smile. Did he smile for the oncoming death, the boils overwhelming his neck and ready to burst? Potentially. No, he smiled for something more. He smiled for the memories of all those years he lived and suffered and was happy.

He recalled his love for his Qalasheen lover, Fatima and his elven lover, Vaeri. He remembered the days when he and Vaeri would sit in the Imperial Palace during the reign of Peter III (or was it during the Lady Emperor?) where they will sit into the night and confess their secrets to each other. With no judgement. He recalled a painting Vaeri spoke of, and how she wished to paint Griffith so she could never forget his face. A tragedy, he thought with his boils hurting his body as he did so, that she would never be able to. The priest having a last laugh in the debate about being painted. 

He recalled his love for Damien d’Belcourt and Veronica d’Belcourt- his adoptive father and mother, respectfully. He did this wedding in his time and though they were elves, he always felt at home with them. They three eventually went off to Silver City to spend time in the Republic, where the Maehr’tehrals thrived for what seemed like an eternity. He missed his cousins too- those loving women cursed with frost who protected him from harm.

He recalled his love for the Briarwoods. His liege lord’s family were honored by him among the saints. Godfrey, Rhys, Cecile- those three souls he wished an eternity of rest for wherever they were. He never saw them after the miracle that freed him from his curse of Strigae, but he hoped they were well. They all deserve God’s peace.

He recalled his love for his best friend Manfried (or Ven. Jude II), Father Pius of Sutica, Father Goren, Father Pelagius, and Father Seraphim of Leora. Men of valour and conviction. The creation of the FSSCT was what led Grifftith to stay close to God despite the defilement of his body that was done to him by the Unseen Daemons. Saints, he knew, in the Heavenly Skies. 

He recalled his love for Franz de Sarkozy and Irene de Sarkozy. They were both marvelous friends of his that he cherished the time spent with them. Franz single handedly saved Griffith’s life many, many times over. When the Savoyard wished for death, Franz brought him life. And it was enough to change him. 

And lastly, he recalled his kin. His sister, his children, and his grandchildren. Though he did not meet them much in this life, he hoped and prayed they would ascend to glory wherever they were. "May they be blessed," the Savoyard said out loud.

When the sun began to set and rest in the distance, so did the soul of Father Griffith of Gwynon. And Nafis returned to a body with a smile on his face, and without a soul in it. 

---

 

When Griffith awoke in the Heavenly Skies, he saw all the faces of those he loved. Of fields of green and silver skies. But most importantly, his soul did not trouble him with depression or angst. His body did not trouble him with pain or woes.

And he saw his brother who had departed over thirty years ago, Father Pius of Sutica, and his father, who had departed over ten years ago. They both spoke at the same time.

"The family is reunited."

---

Spoiler

I wanted to thank everyone who had such an impact on Griffith’s character. It is kind of weird in a way. I had a few drafts of this death trying to figure out what to write. But ultimately, it was time and I found out what’s up. He had a good run and I loved the character and everyone who interacted with him. Even if we don't talk anymore, believe me when I say I remember the fun times we had together with him and your guy’s characters.  I am not going to go overboard with this section like Dima’s and write a single sentence telling each of you how much of an impact you had on him, mostly because I know it will anger some of you more than others that I left you out :)

But do not hesitate to pm me about Griffith, or about what I am doing, or whatever! Also check out the posts I made about him under all his aliases!

Oh, and one last thing. Nafis revealed all the identities of Griffith, so feel free to realize it’s the same character. So yes, publicly a Savoyard and Briarwood, and etc etc.  His old age never coming about may also be realized, but obviously the Striga part would only be known by those who he told irp. Anyway, I love you all! 

Jules, out.

[DahStalker 3692]

  From the sinful indulgences of bittersome venom came the sweet aftermath of velvet red, coating the surface of a parched run-through mouth. Once filled with careless and witty quips now drowned with the sorrows of woeful sobs, reciting the compressed anguish built through the decades, bottled ‘til this very hour. The nature of man was sporadic and fragile yet its inclination to carry burdensome vehemence was not. 

 

      The few lithe digits with their remaining strength could only grapple onto the neck of that wretched bottle moments more before her efforts forgo its position, allowing the glass to spiral out into a cloud of shards and rancid vintage in a single drop, shattering. Any fragments of hopeful yearning slowly dissipated in the howl of broken pleads, clustering into the dark corners of that drab and shallow room, lost forevermore. 

 

     Could the cruelty of man be rivaled by death itself - Unforgiving and crude in its disposition? Thought the elfess, frame entangled within the sheer silks upon her mattress of penurious quality. All feelings were superficial as she lay relentlessly pained, viridescent stare perplexed as to where to land, overwhelmed. In a glint of aureate did her senses numb, bringing forth an onslaught of memoir. An interest, a glance, a smile, a hug, a kiss. 

 

    For within a wink she was coerced back to the era of the Emperor, third of his name, beckoned into a paradise of aged domes, now mostly burned within the ash of what was once Helena. A pious man huddled within the cranny of dust and research, idling within its grace. Her heart wept at the recollection. Would she ever recover from such heartbreak? The possibility of children and husband gone. It was forbidden nonetheless, but craved. Her throat wobbled with a chuff of sore laughter, the frame pulling itself upright.

 

    She had remembered the words of her beloved Godric, recalling his phrases of flexio, and scholarly declarations. And though she had loved him dearly, her heart had lusted entirely after Griffith, for he had kept her upright. And for once she understood more fully what he had meant as she approached that emptied locket, hands extending outright for a shoddy pencil of burnt vine, palm quivering. 

 

    As the stars outside had aligned themselves and that single candle with a flame so bright was joined with another eternally the elfess worked, nails pinning down the ends of a rough oval, covered in a dark murk. Although he would remain with her through memory and experience, she would stubbornly refuse to forget him. The lid of his eyes, curve of his mouth, softness of his jaw. And as the night had concluded with the harmony of chirps outside, she recoiled to see her work, eyes glistened with another wave of tears. 

 

[Endovelicus 614]

"Hmpht." Within the walls of Kaer'Lassar a bald headed cleric felt a itch on the back of his head. A letter from Gwynon, Brother Jaegor had signed it. Raymond opened it silently. In dark-grey ink it simply read; 'Griffith is dead'. The man who had torn him from his grief stricken mother all those years ago, and placed him in his tormenting life in Ulmsbottom, only to command him to come to Almaris, to live a tormented life here. He did not know what to say or do, the wren stood by the window watching. Raymond decided on a simple prayer for his uncles soul, disregarding his conflicting feelings for a second, though it was only a mere second. He spent the rest of the day brooding. 

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Father Paco prayed for his holy colleague in faith after he had passed on. He could only hope Griffith inspired others to be as great, if not greater, then he was. His thesis On Marriage would be forever immortalized in the Library of Cardinal Commodus Horen at the Lectorate's Temple of Kaer'Lassar.

[Iudaes 1095]

"And there you are, friend." was uttered as Griffith passed through those heavenly gates. "There you are." he said, parting the crowd that came to meet Griffith with commanding gesture. It was Jude II, young and unscarred (as Griffith had known him), with two arms which outstretched to embrace the passed Priest, that Father beside which he had been ordained. "Dear Griffith--or Gawain, heh--I have waited long for this moment." Eyes welling with tears of joy, two hands grasping the arms of his dear brother, the Pontiff spoke unto Griffith, "How glad am I to see you, in this place in which you are most deserving to reside. You, as I, had suffered many trials in life, and do trust me--this..." he gestured around him, "...this is boundless joy."

 

His gaze glanced over those faces which surrounded this pair, "And so many who have come to meet you, mm. So, I will not take up your time. But!- I do have to recite that address for you again." Jude II chuckled. "Don't think I did not hear those words said before my body. Dozing off when I was speaking. Truly shameful of you." he jested. "We have all eternity for that--and to catch up too. But do not let me keep you, friend. I am happy to see you but these men and women are as well." The Vicar of God beckoned that crowd nearer before leaving Griffith, allowing him the time to reunite with all those he had missed. 

 

Nevertheless, his gaze did rest upon Griffith as he stood near the gates. While verily Jude had been rewarded by God with the Seven Skies, it was with Griffith--the man with whom he had served throughout his life--that he was truly happy. The heavens were not complete without him, his dear friend and brother; but now, reunited with Griffith, the joy of the Skies was utterly boundless.

[thesmellypocket 1859]

Pius found Griffith's long-awaited arrival an equal if not greater joy than his own entry into the Skies. Gone was the reserve and tact which held back his expression upon earth. "I knew you would make it! I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!" The old stoic exploded in a spectacle of giddy joy, like a boy waking up on Christmas morning. "That's my boy!" All Heaven knew what the occasion was. Even Griffith's Guardian Angel had grown tired of Pius' anticipation. "Pius has been raving on about this day for years," explained he. (Speaking relatively, of course - years do not exist in Heaven.) Soon, Pius had the whole of the Skies joining in the jubilee - billions of Cherubim and Seraphim, all the Holy Prophets, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins and Kings ringing for the arrival of one man. "He deserves nothing less!" Pius insisted boldly. Saint Julia made sure Pius' insistence was followed up on.

 

He rushed upon his friend like a madman, showering him with kisses and hugs. "That's my boy!" He exclaims proudly. "Now, there's a certain Akritian Priest I need us to take care of..." And then going to talk his ear off with rants and lectures for eternity of eternity. 

[Lojo613 1882]

From distant lands, a perpetually frail old man weeps for his friend. These are not tears of sorrow, but joy, for he understands

the pain of a life lived long. “Goodbye old friend, I never did get to forgive you in person, but I am sure you can hear me now.”

[Viggen92 326]

Cardinal Providentia prayed in silence for his predecessor, for the man that had ordained him a shepherd of the Canon faith. The new Metropolitan prayed that Griffith would find eternal peace in the Seven Skies, and he prayed that Griffith would be waiting for him there - in the heavens.