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Mourning a Lost Sparrow


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A younger Josephine Aleksandra viewing Woldzmir at a distance, 1834

[Art by Isa Bancewicz]

 

The following is an announcement from House Luceafăru

Made known only to those in the realm of Cannondom. . .

 

–Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ–

 

It is with heavy hearts that another candle is lit in honor of one’s memory in the castelul of Woldzmir.  The tenderhearted Josephine Aleksandra Tuvyic has been murdered by the hands of the Anathemata.  After being beaten and bound, she was offered her life if only she would denounce the words of her mother and sister and respect the word and rule of the Excommunicated.  Yet, keeping true to the values of her family, Lady Josephine clung to her principles despite the threats she was faced with and lost her life in a public display of brutality.

 

Whether the act was done in spite or regret by the Athanemata, Josephine Aleksandra’s body has been delivered to Woldzmir.  It is now that she shall be given a proper send off in the tradition of the Woldzkiy people, the funeral shall be hosted by her sister, Lady Moliana, within the heart of Karosgrad so that those that once called Lady Josephine friend may have a chance to say their final farewells and prayers.  

 

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OOC: February 17th, 5:00 PM EST in Karosgrad

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Elimar spent his day wandering the wilderness of Woldzmir, trying to clear his mind. None of it made any sense to him. Elsewhere, a bloodied and wounded man's obsession with his work only grew.

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A Tuvyic in the county of Dobrov is simply shocked at the brutal murder of his relative. Truly, the paper simply falls from his hand as he looks at the crackling hearthfire of his cabin.

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On the bustling city steps of Karosgrad, Sorina Luceafãru sat, weary eyes scanning over the crowds. Days seemed to pass quickly by for the child, only the thoughts of life and death on her mind. For the first time the girl would wave her friends off, passing on their invitations to play and instead looking down at the familiar cross which she held tightly in her palm, a small indent of the Lorraine pressed into her skin. At such a young age much did not make sense to her, especially that off loss and grief. Grasping the golden cross which had been formerly soaked in the blood of her aunt, Sorina would close her eyes, awaiting yet another day to pass. 

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An Illatian sits and ponders a while, considering death. He concludes it to be a cruel joke - a sick mockery and perversion of life and something that terrified him, and goes back to his state work that bit more unnerved. The day had adopted a grim tone.

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"Good." Spoke an elder Carrion as the news was received. "In the ground, where the scum of Sigismund's tainted line belong."

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A red-headed man by the name of Joseph would arrive at the city of Karosgrad, coming from the lake beside the city with fish to sell, he would stop upon hearing the news of the memorial held for the deceased from the town crier, he would then make his way to his humble abode, preparing his clothes for the day to properly pay his respects to someone so courageous and defiant until her end.

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"madam

 

i am sorry your duchess or whatever died but it's spelled Anathemata, not Athnenemata.

 

congratulations / sorry for your loss

 

djerba b."

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