[PK] The Golden Gryphon Lowers its Blade

[Sarven 1717]

The Golden Gryphon Lowers its Blade

 

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Artistic Depiction of Yvian Ritter Galken, Dated; 1910 I.T. (114 S.A.)

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Spoiler

 

 

“Live by the words; 'Wer Rastet, Der Rostet',

Be forever in humility by the words; 'Gott Mit Uns'”

 

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The elder looked upon the great keep as he sat down in the countryside, it's great spires pierced the heavens, its mighty walls and battlements surmounted by the banners of green and blue, the bulwark that shielded it. 

 

The man simply smiled and nodded;

“I love Minitz”

 

        Thereafter seemingly collapsing unto the ground as he sprawled, his eyes affixed to the eagle that loomed overhead. It was black as ink, should it have been night it probably would be masked in the starry sky in near perfect stealth, Yvian mused. Its feathers, large and tattered, extended to a mighty span nearly that of a small messer knife, or perhaps more, as the old fool lacked the heavenly gift of flight, a simple squint of the eye and a guess was the best he could muster. The bird flew in a rather interesting pattern, as it soared in the blue, cloud barren heavens, its eye seemed to affix, something for the hunt? A predator honing in on its prey, the eagle began to spiral ever so slightly. Sitting up from his lounging, Yvian attempted to predict the where’s, who’s and what’s of the bird of prey’s hunt, using simple guesswork and though as futile or mis-used, the knowledge of what ballistics-work he knew from his times sundering Bold Blue with his comrades all those years ago. 

        “Aha!” the gryphon-sigil-bearing man exclaimed, his eyes and rather exaggerated point, directed at the windmill. The question of what the bird was hunting for was quickly answered, a small squirrel had made a hidey-hole in one of the rather decently sized gaps in between the roof and the walls. Completely unaware as it was being silently observed by the various parties. 

 

Walls of White, Rooves of Orange, Banners of Green and Blue...

 

        Swoosh! The wind blew as the large bird snatched its prey and made its landing unto the clearing nearby, in a singular, swift motion. The poor critter stood no chance as the eagle made quick work of it, a great success for itself and its hatchlings, the bird made an abrupt motion and the critter was put out of its misery. Yvian pondered, though a completely detached event, the show of violence brought back memories of Atrus, the horrid times when the undead hounded the fair people of Balian for many a day. The speed of the hunt, the lighting reflexes of the bird and its prowl akin to unwaveringly brisk motion of a ballistae bolt. As the bird made its way to pick at the fresh carcase, his mind's thoughts raced from one moment to the next. The visceral killings done by the haunting Mori, to the brutality and cunning brought on by the Adrian, the Petran, his thoughts seemed to grow awash with the memories of blood, backstabbing and betrayal, the Roa’s, the Theonii, Heretics, Heathens and the enemies of the Inquisition, the-

 

        “Yvian! How are you? Admiring the countryside?” Yvian snapped out of whatever drivel his mind brought upon him, turning to the familiar face as they spoke. 

        “Don’t suppose you’ve come here just to sulk, have you?” The veteran Reinmaren mused with some laughter, concluding with a small sigh, “It is a beautiful country. Let’s just hope that the Franks don’t capture it all back!” The Herrenmeister after Yvian jested, moving to his side. 

        “I’ll start with good news. The Order of Saint Tylos is doing well, the order is once more revived!” The man rejoiced, a happy smile on his features, yet, it turned somber quite soon. 

        “Things have changed. Ludwig, Eloisee, Saxton.. Abrielle. Their times have come and gone. Yet, there is always some light in life. Rakshasa, Roland, Barlord, they all returned! Rakshasa became blooded, his new name; Rafael. Roland formed himself a tribe and became the Warchief! And Barlord? Er, well.. He’s doing his own thing.” He’d break the somberness with a lighthearted chuckle. 

        “Enjoying retirement, though?” The aging man offered a neutral gaze upwards at Peter, the bombardment of the various updates causing some mild confusion as he processed it.

        “Ja, I am, and it is good to hear that Minitz is prospering well.” Rising from the ground Yvian turned to the road, a cart in the distance making its way towards him as a smile grew on his face. As the creaking wood work grew more into view, Yvian offered a wave, then turning to his comrade.

        “It appears my ride has come, the final chapter in my journey…” his smile was melancholic, a sense of nostalgia about it. Opening his arms wide the man gave a brotherly embrace to his fellow man.

        “You have come far, I am proud of you, odd to think you used to be but one of my humble squires.” A grin flashed as he patted Peter on his shoulders and back.

        “You still haven’t lost your edge, Yvian.” Peter jested,

        “It’s been an honour serving the order under you. Your wisdom and guidance has made the man I am today, along with Robert, of course. Can’t discredit him.” He let out a brief, solemn laughter. Yvian simply nodded in response before stiffening his posture for a brief moment and offering a salute, thereafter pivoting on his heels and making his way to Lucia who was smiling gently, a soft yet firm grip upon the reins of the steeds that ferried the wagon. Peter stifled some tears as he thudded his chest to Yvian one final time;

        “Wer Rastet, Der Rostet. GOD be with you, Yvian.”  

        “Wer Rastet, Der Rostet und GOTT Mit Uns, Peter”

The pair waved a final goodbye as the cart suddenly jerked into motion, the wagon making its way down the road and across the bridge, more and more did the spires of Kanunsberg grow out of view, the mighty walls, the towers, eventually even the great banner of gold and scarlet victory of the Frankish wars, became but a blurry image on the horizon, Minitz, a cherished memory…

 

Banners of Victory 'pon the setting Sun, Surmounting Mountains fading into Mist...

 

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And here ends the tale of Sir Yvian “The Gryphon” Galken

Skilled Artilleryman, aiding in the ending of Bold Blue, the slayer of Undead, the Adrian, the Daft, et cetera

Third Herrenmeister, Second Kastellan and of the numerous Ritter of the Order of Saint Tylos

Hauptmann of the Warband of Theoderic

Petty Officer of the Aaunic Royal Navy ~ Former

Armourer and Weapon Smith of Minitz

Most studious and ernest of Merchants

Founder of the Industries of Saint Nicholas the Martyr

Teacher

Father

Husband

 

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The Last Will and Testament of Sir Yvian “The Gryphon” Galken

My family, couriers and earnest friends shall be the ones to execute my will;

 

Those who read this, may GOTT bless you, may you never stray from his most holy light;

 

To my comrades, friends and compatriots, Lord Robert Stroheim, Sir Peter Stroheim, Sir Brandt Barclay, Sir Leon Barclay, Siegfried Barclay, Sir Ludolf Barclay, Saxton Stroheim, Kato Oijin, Wilheim Barclay, Holly, Rohir, Gregarious Roa, Myrios, Raksasha, Safi, Barlord Bronzerock, Kristof Katzak as well as whatever other Barclays, Stroheims and other such most honoured friends I may or may not have forgotten. May GOTT bless you, may you never stray from his most holy light, may my departure hinder not your resolve.

 

To my Apprentice and Son, Marcel Galken, I apologize for not being there much throughout your life, I fear I have failed you. You turned to those who besmirch Minitz and to that I simply pray for you not to fall to sin. Always seek great knowledge and experience and do not be hasty to meet me.

 

To Oijin Kato and Siegfried Barclay, finish building those damn machines will you? My workshop is all yours, comrades.

 

To Brandt Barclay, thank you, for letting me continue and end my service after the passing of your father, it was an honour.

 

To my fellow Knights who have served me and to those who are left. I leave my utmost respect and gratitude, may your lances be forever sturdy, your crosses forever honed. Ser Adrielle, Sir Philip, Ser Garen, Sir Enrique, uphold the values of valour and chivalry in my stead and my blessings upon thee.

 

To those who speak my name in shallow breaths with damnations and curses, may you all lick my arse, back stabbing and dishonourable Petrans, the deranged heretics of Adria and Veletzia, the rabid attention seeking Ferrymen and the cowardly snake-tongued Theonii, who cannot speak one on one, oh and lastly the weird stuck ups of Ceila’nor, licking Petran boots and kissing Adrian arses, also bowing to Darkstalkers and Spooks is weird. You may write your pissy responses, to my grave stone.

 

To the people of Minitz, I leave my utmost respect and gratitude to all of you who are fine men and women and it is thanks to you, that I was able to find my place in this world. A few names that come to my mind… Saxton, Ludwig, Cisyn, Eloisee and many others. 

 

My possessions are hence forth given to the Barclay's of Minitz.

 

Sir Yvian ‘The Gryphon” Galken, Hauptmann and Third Herrenmeister of Minitz

1875 I.T. - 1952 I.T.

 

OOC

Spoiler

Hey folks, this one was a long time coming, honestly with University work I’ve just been forgetting to post it. Yvian was an absolute blast to play as and the entire Minitz community has my utmost heartfelt thanks for making it this fun to play. @GoodGuyMatt @MadOne Godbless you two and thanks for dragging me back into LOTC after my 2.5 yr hiatus 😅, @__June thanks for coming back and making it all the more enjoyable, @HugoAntero @TheShadowMatrix @Gandhi @Solour@Morphine @Boknice275+All the other Minitz bros, It was an absolute blast meeting you fellas and thanks for everything*

 

[Gandhi 2708]

Ludolf remained camped out in the Langkette - Yvian's letter only delivered by an accomplished courier, who'd been willing to brave the trek up into the Frankish hills. He sighed, wrapping the letter tightly in his gauntlet - almost to the point of crumpling it.. "The end of an era - Yvian, one less veteran of the Adrian rebellion. I'll always remember you brother."

[Morphine 458]

"WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!" 

Through misty eyes, the warchief exclaimed these proud words towards a once endearing ally and friend, now departing this realm and onto everlasting peace. GOD be with you, Sir Yvian!

[Shadow2k 501]

Robert Stroheim, floating in the bottom of a glass, read Yvian Galken's letter through inebriated lens, and wept for the loss of the man who made him a Ritter, so many decades ago. He thudded his wrinkled fist against his chest as per tradition, and spoke absently.

 

"God bless you, Reinmaren exemplar. The world grows darker with your absence, and its ideals, more corrupted," making an oath of moment to name a descendent after the departed Gryphon, before remembering he was drunk, and passing out following a fat rip.

[TaytoTot 1168]

Annette von Theonus laid in her bed, nodding her head as she thought of her time in Minitz. "Ich miss zhat place. Mein friends. . .hov our family vas." She spoke, looking over to her husband. "A shame."

[Me_llamo... 495]

"Wer Rastet, Der Rostet!"

 

Gregorius Roa, now a Count uncorked one of his most treasured drinks, sending Yvian another one via mail (hopefully it will arrive irply) "Hope la Tua life è great from now on, friend!" he said with a smile on his face, thankful for his friend to be alive… weirdly enough someone had told him he was dead… what a plot

 

Spoiler

Sarven is a real one peeps


(Real image of Sarven?! omg imma get banned but its worth it)

 

[D4rkSolar 92]

Marcel Pats his sons shoulder taking a deep sigh "I wish you could have met him Mattia... I can only hope to be half the man he was..." Later on when Marcel returns from battle he heads to the church "GOD please give him this one message for me... 'Father I love you, you were my hero and I strive to be as great as you... I promise to carry your legacy with me and our future Generation... thank you for all your sacrifices... I strive to better not just myself but the world around me... and I will always be on Minitz' side" he sighed and then prayed to GOD "Carry my father into the seven skies, and let him watch over not just me and my son but everyone in Minitz... as much as I didn't feel welcomed I would die for each and everyone one of them..." he then stood up placing his right hand to his heart "Wer Rastet, Der Rostet"

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 11594]

It took awhile, but news of Yvian's passing inevitably reached a second age warlord out to the far west hidden beneath the Sakura blossoms. Had fate been different perhaps their time together would not have been cut short. A reminder dawned on him though and with new reinvigoration he set back out to reach the east - and seek out Siegfried.

[GoodGuyMatt 7066]

With a melancholic smile, the first Duke of Minitz, Venerated Leon awaited his first Ritter to arrive. He adorned in the Skies of GOTT the same armor he did when serving him on the mortal realm, adorned with imagery of the Lorraine cross. On his hilt rested his sheathed sword, and on his right hand he held yet another sword. As Yvian approached, Leon placed a hand on his shoulder, repeating the last words of the Oath that Yvian had taken before him when he was but a young boy...

 

"Until the light is gone,
Until the water is gone,
Until my life is gone..."

 

Then, he paused, and extended the second sword towards the Ritter, finally finishing the words of the oath with a smile, a reward for Yvian's valor, loyalty, honesty and prowess which he had shown during his life, one that made Leon proud.

"...Wielding my sword in valour until my breath is gone."

[Zemzy_Oakheart 167]

As estranged as it felt in seeing a face she once knew so long ago ride away in a cart upon the very street she traversed to farm the fields down the road, did a certain Blume Herrlichkeit nearly drop her newest book finds as she recognized the man's face. He didn't see her amongst the trees with the way the path wound about to the nearest vassal, but she couldn't help but shed a tear in silence for him.

 

There were no words she'd speak out for the man, in fear of him hearing what little was left of herself.

 

There were no steps to chase after the cart, nor away from the street where she'd seen the old soul, for the woman knew too well she'd rather not face the man after the last time she'd seen him at the end of Almaris; the memory only brought her silent reminders of what could've been, what could never be fixed no matter how hard the Herrlichkeit tried, & the broken soul behind it to let Yvian continue until he was out of sight & out of hearing range.

 

This would be another day of silence as she'd lost what she used to consider family, but would refrain herself from reaching out for their sakes, not her own.