Fionn__TWG 2616 Popular Post Share Posted August 19, 2022 “There can be no laxity in faith for any reason, not war nor peace, not wealth nor poverty.” -Scroll of Spirit, 2:13 Spoiler The countryside of Reinmar, as it usually did, brought a smile to the Pontiff’s mouth as he rode along its country roads, his young acolyte Hector accompanying him, both for the company, and to act as an assistant should anything happen. As the pair rode along a path bordering the forests of Dobrov, Hector’s mount shadowed Tylos’, the city-raised boy still not used to the pastime, and his swaying proved such. It was this ineptitude that had made Tylos bring the pair on this trip in the first place - to prepare the now-acolyte for his future life in the clergy. “Ein clergyman should be the quickest there is on ein horse, Hector. Especially one taught by His Holiness.” The Reinmaren remarked to his student, his casual smile curling into a sly smirk as he awaited the retort from his quick companion. “A Holiness raised around horses. You probably bred more of them than you’ve given sermons.” Hector expectedly quipped in response, to which Tylos would stop in his tracks, turning his horse as he perked a brow towards the teenager “Is that how du talk to the Vicar of GOTT? Insult him as he teaches du ein useful skill?” The annoyed look on Hector’s face quickly subsided as he looked towards his horse’s mane nervously, fumbling his words as he meekly responded “...No. Sorry, Your Holiness.” His expression would return to what it was moments before as he heard Tylos laughing to himself. “Du should learn to take Us less seriously when we’re on our own, Hector.” the horse he rode on would turn back towards the road ahead as the Vicar guided her, though he remained in place as he gestured his head on the path before them, as if telling Hector to move on, before the duo rode off once again, this time side by side. “What made du join the clergy, Your Holiness?” the words poured out of Hector’s mouth as the duo’s horses had set foot in the lands of the Reinmaren village, Rozenfeld, once more. Tylos would look towards the chapel behind them as he responded; “Some priests simply feel the obligation to join the clergy one day, Hector. Some plan to join their whole lives, but nicht Us. We had the life of ein Knight in Our head, but one day on ein trip to Elvenesse We simply felt the need to join und spread His word. Perhaps that was GOTT himself guiding Us to this path.” - “What made du join?” “My father wanted me to. He said it was tradition in the family that the second child joined the clergy, whether as a nun, monk, or priest. We never felt much desire to join ourselves.” Tylos rubbed his nose as he looked out to the growing fields of wheat and carrots. “Where’s ihr vater now, Hector?” Hector seemed taken aback by this question, before responding. “He’s still in Hyspia, Holiness. Why?” “He wouldn’t know if du simply left the clergy now. We wouldn’t hold it against du, either. Ein reluctant priest is ein bad one. Du’d serve neither GOTT or His flock well. Why do du stay?” he turned to his student as he listened to his answer. “I didn’t expect to be taken as your student. I thought I’d be assigned to a priest like most people, maybe a Bishop if I was lucky. I suppose I wanted to keep going for a few years, to decide if I wanted to continue down this path.” Hector’s words quickly fell on deaf ears, Tylos’ entire attention turned to the stone passageway which stood between them and the developed section of the village. There, his eyes fell upon a figure all too familiar, his ears catching nothing but their laughter. His face dropped dramatically as he watched them move out from behind the stone, trekking towards his direction. Quickly did his horse turn, the Vicar yanking on her reins forcefully as he galloped back towards the chapel, Hector being left where he was, the young man looking around him to find nothing but the fields, buildings, and construction projects; construction which his mentor had wildly ridden into. His screams for the Vicar to turn back were once again met with silence, for the sounds of muffled hammers and saws were all that met Tylos’ ears. The heads of most of the workers had turned from their tools, now gazing upon the yard instead, and the Pontiff which rode swiftly through, followed shortly by his desperate acolyte. Their yells for both to leave were ignored by Hector, and barely heard by Tylos, who still rode frantically past the frames the men stood upon. His old, tired mind focused entirely on what he had just seen before him, he didn’t notice as a wooden beam crashed into the ground before him, his mare rearing abruptly at it’s sudden arrival, and sending the man towards the earth, his head hitting the hard ground before the rest of his body would follow. Hector’s shouts for help as he plunged momentarily were the last he heard before the world went dark around him. REQUIEM FINALIS ONE FINAL REST Spoiler “So Godfrey raised the horn and laurel, and said unto James “O James, pious son of the Lord, I have seen the glory of God in your heart and His word on your tongue. You will be my high priest, as in the days of Evaristus and Clement. I name you pontifex, for you are a builder of bridges.”” -Scroll of Gospel, 6:58-61 The sound of the Basilica of St Heinrik’s choir was the first sensation to greet Klaus after what seemed like an eternity of darkness. Slowly his vision would return to him, revealing to him the intricate building before him. The entrance behind him had been filled in with solid terracotta brick, and the detailed windows lining the walls shone bright white light into the halls. At the opposite end of the Basilica, rather than the typical altar, was the papal throne, occupied by the Blessed High Pontiff Jude II. Klaus’ sight, however, was fixed on the pews between them, which were filled with all those who had meant something to him in life. He’d hesitate to move, instead studying the faces of those who had gone. Eventually, he’d realise the youth of the faces before him; Petra and Reinhardt, along with his other childhood friends, appeared as mere children, and his father Cedric’s face appeared unscarred. He’d look down towards his own body, to see that he too was a mere toddler. He wondered why he was here in this building, with all those he had known, but these thoughts quickly bored him. He had had enough of thinking. He had had enough of being idle. He had done too much of that in his youth; he had too little time to waste now. As he took his first step, his grandfather, Brandt, was the first to depart from the vision. He stopped as quick as he had set off, his mindset thrown away as he stared at the empty pew before him. The pain in his chest was all too familiar, for it was the pain his young self felt when he watched his grandfather die before him, during an attack on his family’s fortified keep. The people before him were met with a venomous scowl from the young noble, who hesitantly continued up the pews before him towards the altar. With each step he took, he seemed to age more and more, his attire changing from his personal attire to his acolyte robes, and finally his black clergy robes. The people he passed would disappear as he walked by, as his grandfather did, the pain in his heart the same as the times he had heard of their deaths. He filled up with regret as his father departed, he yearned for a time long gone once Petra had faded away, and when his mother’s vision would pass, so too would the apparitions of his brother and sister, Reinhardt and Adrianna. In the years following his mother’s deaths, his interactions with his brother had degraded to simple greetings in passing, and he hadn’t seen her sister at all since then. Now, she lay in the crypts of Reinmar, by their mother’s side, alongside the rest of their deceased family. Klaus didn’t know at the time whether his final interaction with the pair was worth the divide it had caused. It was now his biggest regret. He’d experience the humiliation of being desquired by his own father, but in that moment, he’d rather feel it a thousand times more, if he could take back that moment between the trio. But as his loved ones moved on, so did he. He continued his slow steps towards the throne, the man sitting upon it shifting occasionally, from Jude, to Tylos I, followed by Everard VI, and finally, Tylos II, his predecessor. Those in the pews continued to disappear from sight, until two remained in the room with the now-Cardinal; Sigismund, and the Tylos before him. Two men who held upon their shoulders the same weight as he did, though undoubtedly greater. It was then he remembered the final conversation he had with the two. The confession he held for the ailing Sigismund on the day of his death, and the confessions of his own to both the King and Tylos II, shortly before their demise. He had always wondered what Sigismund thought of the confession he had given to him before he had left the Fidei Defensor’s room, and the same worry went towards what his predecessor may have thought. Perhaps they felt respect toward him for confiding, perhaps pity for the way he had done it. He quickly discarded these thoughts however; dying men have better things to worry about. He would take his 62nd step. Sigismund would be the last departure from the pews. A slight pain once again filled Klaus. The King’s departure to the Seven Skies, while a tragic one, was one that he was ready for, though death, no matter the frequency, was never something his heart could grow a resistance to. Three steps were taken towards the throne, before Tylos II became the last to depart. Tylos III would look down to himself. Already, his pontifical robes adorned him where his humble black robes did before, the large cross he always wore shining as it did during his enthronement. The same exhaustion seemed to also encumber him as it did in his later life. As he looked around, the room had become dark, the bright light from the windows having faded, leaving only the window at the head of the Basilica visible to the man. As he focused on it, his mind raced once again, as it always did whilst his gaze was locked on this feature of the building. No matter how much time he had spent in his life gazing at this glass, it always unsettled him, though he would never be able to place his finger on why exactly. He eventually gave in to the throne, filling the empty seat his predecessor had left him, noticing even those who still lived had departed from this vision. It had been too long since he had lived the life of Klaus. Those friendships he once held were mostly gone, replaced with his everlasting duty. The bells above him would begin to ring loudly, almost deafening him with their abnormal decibels. Ten tolls were what he heard, before their sound would subside, and the vision before him turned black once again. The Pontiff gave out a groggy groan as he woke once again, only this time he wasn’t greeted by another vision, but rather his personal residence within the monastery of Robert of Metz, on the outskirts of Karosgrad. It was almost bare in the room, for he never spent much time in it, only the bed he slept in occasionally, and the desk opposite it, full of the original copies of documents and writings that he had worked on. He’d lean up in his bed, covered in many sheets and covers to stave off the cold of the winter air, upon which he’d be greeted by the grateful cheers and prayers of the monks which surrounded his bed. Upon the desk, Tylos’ acolyte Hector would be sat, performing his own quick prayer to God for the Vicar’s recovery, before writing a missive to spread across Almaris. Tylos would look out the window before him as he spoke for the first time in two years; “What year is it?” one of the monks would quickly respond “1885 Your Holiness, or 438 E.S. as your fellow countrymen would follow.” Tylos would fall silent, doing quick calculations in his head. 65 steps, each step a year of his life before his Pontificate, and 10 tolls of the bells. If this vision was pure, not of Iblees’ creation, and If the tolls represented each year he would serve as God’s Vicar, he would have seventy-five years of life. He’d then state his birth date aloud, much to the confusion of the clergymen present; the 2nd of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1811. He had lived seventy-four years to that point. He had one left. “So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not be idle, nor forget your duties in favor of sloth.” -Scroll of Virtue, 4:8 The days would drag on as the twilight of Tylos’ life continued, and as it did so, he felt his duty waning. More and more did he forget the Canticles he himself was bound by duty to uphold and preach, falling more and more into a hopeless state as he kept himself locked up within the monastery, awaiting what he felt was the inevitable. His time would be spent looking out towards the countryside surrounding the monastery, and the walls of Karosgrad, and reading whatever books of interest Hector could find around the monastery. The only time he would leave the solace he had forced himself into was to perform his duties when needed, upon which he’d quickly make his way back towards his isolation. It was a stark contrast to the thoughts he held during the beginning of the vision he had in his coma. Then, he was so adamant on making the most of what life he had left. Now, however, after the pain of his life returned to him for only those short moments, he had realised. He wasn’t tired of wasting what time he had left. He was tired of having time left at all. The coma had done its damage on the old man’s body. Besides the heart tremor noted by his physicians, His legs were far too weak to support him, his ability to travel independently depending solely upon the sceptre which had been crafted for him upon his awakening. The cross which adorned the top of the long staff’s shaft would act as a reminder of Tylos’ duty to the flock, but his lack of care for the position he was still holding on to simply made it a torment to him. The people of the flock deserved a better Vicar than he had been in these past years. Circumstances started this decline, though his own self-pity had caused the spiral downwards. A bird would arrive at the aviary of the monastery, Hector quickly relaying the letter it had delivered to the aged man. It was from the Queen of Haense, Amadea, requesting that he be the one to deliver the sermon given to the Haeseni people to celebrate 100 years of independence. A long sigh escaped his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was deliver a sermon in the state he was in, however he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was obliged to do this, for the flock he had cared for since the day he was ordained. He’d eventually move from the window where the bird had now begun to rest, opening the door for the first time since he had returned from the Haeseni court months prior, and setting off on the short journey towards the Basilica. There, the people of Haense had already lined up in the pews, awaiting the Vicar’s arrival for the sermon. Perhaps some of them were there for the sermon itself. Perhaps others had simply hoped for one last look at the Pontiff in life. It mattered not to Tylos, who had felt a sudden surge of energy; a sign to his tragically hopeful mind that he was on the path to recovery. As he walked down the aisle to the altar unsupported, to the surprise of those who had seen him in recent times, and as the choir would die down, the Vicar would begin his swan song for the Haeseni people. “And he did not know death, for the Lord loved him and lifted him into the Skies whole.” -Scroll of Gospel, 7:66 Spoiler The words spilled out of Tylos’ mouths as if he was being controlled by God himself, no sign of the man’s ailment visible as the beginning prayer had ended, and his following speechwas underway, much to the enjoyment of Tylos, whose sceptre was being lifted in the air by one hand. It was this feeling that he had missed terribly in the past year of his duties; true independence. The Lord above had blessed him with this moment, and he would not disappoint, either the people who were listening closely, or the Man above who he had followed since the moment he could read the scrolls. A hacking cough brought an end to the Pontiff’s joy. The pain in his throat had reminded him of the impending mortality he would face; his 75th birthday was days ago. God was to claim his soul soon, but not yet. He’d assure those worries by the display, before continuing on, with great vigour in his actions and voice. Sweat began to pour down his face as the second prayer began. An easy fix with the long sleeves of his robe, but the stiffness in his body was not. Tylos’ breath had started to become short, the man gasping for air before long, and his right hand going to clutch his chest, which had begun to give out. Panic filled his actions, calling for the young boy beside him; “Altar boy… get ein physician.” Though as those requested doctors arrived, the man’s mindset once again flipped, turning them away, much to their concern. “Get away! GOTT will nicht allow Us… to fall before his flock.” Tylos’ arms would give out as they held the sceptre he had depended on, sending the man to the ground, unmoving for a few moments. Horror filled the room as those nearby him checked frantically for any signs of life, before his own groans confirmed it. From his groundly position, the Vicar heard someone cheer out; “Praise GOD! A Miracle!” “We never died, du idiots!” Where he was filled with desperation to live, Tylos was now filled with one selfish desire; to finish his duty. It was all he wanted to achieve at this moment, then he could finally accept that which he had awaited for this final chapter of his fleeting life. The crowd had finally returned to their seats, the dying Vicar held up by his sceptre on one side, and Cardinal Katerina on the other. Not a sound filled the sombre Basilica as Tylos delivered the final segment of his sermon. Looking towards the youth gathered, pity would fill his failing heart. Children so young would have to live with such a horrid display before some of them could even comprehend death. Then, his eyes fell upon his brother Reinhardt, and his friend, Kaustantin. It had pained them all enough to see everyone else go, now those would have one more to grieve. And of course, Franz had arrived on the scene, right as his final moments began. He would laugh at his sudden arrival, if his body would’ve allowed him. The final speech of the sermon had ended, the crowd waiting to hear any more words the Pontiff may say. “Go in peace.” These were the final words of Tylos III, his sceptre crashing against the altar floor, and his body slumping downwards, Katerina’s support preventing him from joining his staff on the ground. The physicians once again rushed to his side, demanding for the Cardinal to check for a pulse. Katerina hesitantly did so, before turning back towards the crowd. The Basilica would be closed off for mourning following her announcement. “The Pontiff is dead.” [!] The following missive would be hammered before the door to all churches, cathedrals, and basilicas in Almaris. REQUIESCAT IN PACE Today, it saddens the Church of the Canon to officially announce the death of His Holiness, Tylos III, caused by a heart attack, likely set on by the heart tremor discovered during his recent coma. May the Vicar of GOD rest in peace forevermore in the Seven Skies, alongside those who came before him. The Church of the Canon has now entered a period of mourning. The Basilica of Saint Heinrik is to remain closed during this period, and none are permitted to enter, with exceptions made only for those of the College of Cardinals. Signed, Acolyte Hector, former personal assistant to Tylos III TYLOS III 2nd of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1811 - 10th of Godrey’s Triumph, 1886 2nd of Vzmey & Hyff, 364 E.S - 10th of Vzmey & Hyff, 439 E.S ☩CUM DEO APUD NOSTRUM☩ WITH GOD AT OUR SIDE Spoiler That’s that. Going into this character with the goal of becoming a Knight of Haense, this is not at all where I thought I would end up on Klaus/Tylos, but such is the beauty of roleplay. I expected to be fighting in wars, but I helped stop one from happening. I expected to guide the people of Haense into battle, and instead I led the flock of GOD in their faith. As with most people in such a leadership position, this is not all possible without those along the way. First off, I want to thank Littyfam, for ordaining me as a priest on Jordan in the first place. Next, I want to thank Ramon and Pureimp10 for helping me throughout my time in the clergy and for trusting me as both a Bishop and Cardinal, and for their advice and help while I was Pontiff. And lastly, I want to thank the Curia that has been with me throughout my 10 weeks in this position, especially Vylkmir for acting in my place while I was on holiday for nearly 2 weeks. None of this would’ve been possible without any of these people. That’s not to say, though, that I do not appreciate those that I have rolpelayed with throughout my year and a half on Klaus/Tylos. This was the first persona I began playing when they were a child, and I can gladly say that thanks to everyone, from GoodGuyMatt2k for offering me the character, to those present at my final sermon, you have all shaped this character into what he was, and I am thankful for every single one of you. o7 all of you, and I look forward to the personas to come. 46 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
zuziee 3223 Share Posted August 19, 2022 Bishop Maya instructed all four of her children to practice their prayer at dinner that eve, for her mind was troubled with the loss of yet another Pontiff. 6 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Herod 802 Share Posted August 19, 2022 "Humanity lost a real one." Declared the elderly Kaustantin, shedding tears as another lifelong friend leaves to the other side. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Petsch2k 1099 Share Posted August 19, 2022 Petsch von Minitz would lower his head down reading the news, he began to pray. 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
shay 2200 Share Posted August 19, 2022 "I'm never asking for a sermon again" concluded Amadea following the prompt dropping of the Pontiff in the middle of his last mass 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
seannie 6861 Share Posted August 19, 2022 It took a moment for Charles to ponder on the passing of the Pontiff as he entered the Chapel Magdalena, the Vicar he had just confessed his inner turmoil to but a few days ago. He recalled how feeble the old man appeared during then, supposing it only made sense that it was imminently due, "I shall do right by you, I shan't take thy confidence for granted." the Prince prayed, fingers interlocked as he remained knelt at the altar. 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
MissToni 3487 Share Posted August 19, 2022 Katerina gazed upon the blanket she had used to cover his dead body. A pain filled her heart once more of grief. She had watched this boy grow up, mended him when he had been injured... And now? Now she would be the one to put him to rest. "Now it is vyr turn to rest and watch over me like ea so many times did for vy in vyr childhood. Godani bless and keep vy, Klaus" she uttered his old name out loud, alone in the basilica as she did with a few tears rolling down her cheeks. Shortly after she was met by the Cardinal Adrian. 6 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Balthasar 2093 Share Posted August 19, 2022 The Vice-Chancellor stared at the Holy Father's pale corpse. It was a strange sensation, to see someone you knew in life, laying without a soul before you. The Cardinal did not pray, in fact he didn't think too much about it. He trusted the machinations of God and that Tylos III was now in the Seven, in paradise. "What do we do now?" came a voice behind him, it was Katerina. She had summoned him to the the Basilica. Adrian regained his consciousness and spoke to his sister-Cardinal "We will declare sede vacante and prepare for the funeral" Having said this the cardinal-red priest marched away to write the declaration. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
tadabug2000 3506 Share Posted August 19, 2022 Lady Johanne Vuiller signed the lorraine upon mention of the grave news, head bowing in prayer with her children nearby. With the news fresh in mind, she made way for the basilica so she might light a candle in the Pontiffs honor. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Capt_Chief26 1205 Share Posted August 19, 2022 (edited) Ser Reinhardt Barclay sat alone within the Cathedral of Saint Tylos, staring up at the Lorraine that sat upon the wall… “Ich am all that remains…” the old man thought to himself. “Bruder… Klaus, ich hope du are at peace… with deinself und ich hope du are able to reconnect with mutter, vater und Adrianna… Ich am sorry for the schiesse ich caused over the years, und the rift ich caused between us.. ich am sorry. Ich am sorry with every ounce of my being, und ich hope that du will find it in deinself to forgive mich.” The knight bowed his head, letting loose the torrent of sobs into his armor, sobs he had withheld to maintain some semblance of stoicism. Edited August 19, 2022 by Capt_Chief26 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ramon 3965 Share Posted August 19, 2022 "You did all that I had tried to set out to do and much, much more," The long since deceased Tylos II offered to Klaus as he came to greet him as he entered the Seven Skies. "You've more than earned your rest. Do join me for a cup of tea soon." 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
CopOwl 1668 Share Posted August 20, 2022 The Surgeon - the shadow of Adrianna Darkwood - watches her brother make his way into the Basilica of St. Henrik. Unfortunately, due to her condition she finds herself unable to continue in after him into that Holy Site, although she knows that today is the day. It's become clear to her after all if these years; when a soul is preparing to pass on. "Ich wast right, brüder, Ich waaasst..." Whispers her voice on the breeze. Tears fill her grey unmoving eyes as her brother collapses at his altar. "D-don't die yet, Klausie... Ich will miss du. Ich will never see du again if du go now..." And yet it seems Tylos III can't even hear her, watching from outside. He's too busy watching Reinhardt. As the last of the Vicar's life leaves his body, the ghost observes his spirit ascending towards the Seven Skies and she lets out a howling sob. At last, after years of watching over him - in his work, in his coma, in his final moments - she had nothing more to hang on to. There was only one man, one being that she cared for, now. The Phantom's eyes turn then to her final, eldest of brothers. If there was anyone who could have seen her, they would have noticed as they glowed white hot. "Reinhardt~~~" And a new man was to be haunted for the rest of his days. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
DahStalker 2858 Share Posted August 20, 2022 A certain elfess lowers her wine glass and looks into the furthest corner of her room, there she saw her beloved relic... a bag with the label holding onto the sewn words; 'High Pontiff stealing equipment bag'. She smiled. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
AnimeWolf0080 1493 Share Posted August 20, 2022 Laurelie would sing the Lorraine and pray for the High Pontiff, before going to her young son and reading him more of the holy books/scrolls (I'm sleepy don't @ me) 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Olox_ 3417 Share Posted August 20, 2022 News about the death of High Pontiff reached the south. Upon hearing them Maciej Jazloviecki would trace the Lorraine "May he rest in peace with uncle Tylos II in the Seven Skies" He said as if to himself, and began to pray 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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