[PK] The Seeker's Last Breath

[firespirit44 1323]

The Seeker's Last Breath

 

The old Seeker did not remember much, as he boarded the Queen's Dawn Revenge with his sworn allies, remembering the horrors of giant bone spikes impaling the ship that has lasted since generations ago; fending of hordes of Undead upon their failed beach landing to save Vanessa Silverhand; to the heroic sacrifice of Majoram in the jaws of Elden; all just to witness the death of the Sunlit Lord Xan in the distant portal. 

 

 

As the final hours of Apotheosis drew close, the searing darkness scarring the veteran's seeker's old soul, his lifeline stripped away as Xan was devoured by Azdromoth. They had won. It was a lifetime of a fight, and it was over. The old human body was held together with rage and guilt, the loss of his patron quickly dissipating his power. He had begged to die and bring some bastard demons with him like the famed Hochmeister Mirtok, only to find himself flung back to the accursed Sunbreak keep once more. A home he did not choose, and hasn't for over 300 years. All for nothing. 


He asked for Tilruir'tir and Gael to help his failing body to a nearby hill, where he may watch the setting sun. He looked upon those gathered; a mixture of old and new comrades, laying in Tilruir'tir @Bhasedarms as they settled amongst the grass. He choked out his last words to those present, as the azure light faded from the Seeker's eyes.  

"I'm sorry, Til. I wish I was a better teacher for you, laying out a better journeyman-ship for your Holy Quest, but I know that you embody the spirit of the Sunlit Path well. Thank you for your valiant efforts in getting us out of the Last Light beaches, and your support in disconnecting the dragon-fucker. Tell Brother Stag that I am sorry, that I am honoured to have you as one of my students."

 

Some regretful platitudes were exchanged, but Jack could barely make out the words, he just knew they were full of forgiveness. Tilruir'tir always was kind to Jack, despite his sharp elven tongue. He swore to make sure Brother Stag would receive news of this. 

He then called Hillith Athna @DahStalker over. A children of his Asulon compatriot, Herun Athna. He promised he would watch over her, guide her, and teach her the Athna lineage. It was centuries ago at this point, he hadn't seen here in forever, apart from gifting her his old staff he used, the power from another era. He professed his familial love for her as his adopted grandchild, entrusting her to pass on his relic to someone worthy, and to pick a new fate for the Athna's, no longer Xan's choosen. 

 

Richard Othaman @SacredSourceand Gael @Johannwere next, as the two most trusted in this world. He gazed at them with a mixture of bitterness and pain, lashing out at them somewhat cruelly while wheezing and spitting blood. 

"We lost sons. We ******* lost. Where did we all go wrong, lads? Our plans and preparation were tight. Could we have changed this fate? Had we convinced Sol Invicta, would she have helped stave off this tragedy? Or was it because of our insistence and not uniting with the others? Did our independence curse us to this fate? I know not the answers, and I'm so tired." 

 

He was enraged that it had come to this. It should have never come to this, had he been more assertive and able bodied, could he have helped navigated this situation better with them? More allies, more arms, more coordination? He felt the tremendous weight of failure, having lost the war, forcing his trusted hands to shoulder the burden and scarring for their shared failure. He was going to die, but he could not help worry about their futures, to be hunted by the Azdrazi, or worst. Gael and Richard were remorseful, but what's done is done. His only wish for them was to continue living, and that all his meager possessions were theirs to use. 

 

This was all for naught, he thought, his rage subsiding as more energy left his body. His eyes could no longer see, glazing white entirely. He thanked Serena @Trinnfor her potions and boomsteel, regretful that it couldn't have been better used. He passed her the last relic he would ever make, unknown if the power would still work without Xan's will in the world. And then there was all but one left, his prodigal student; Crumena  @Heero, or the Prophet and Sage of Kamees as known by some. 

 

"Crumena, my prodigal student, the scheming sage, founder of the Luxem Chapter. We did not see eye-to-eye on many things, but you should really be ditching this whole Prophet nonsense. You haven't seen shit in 400 years." He relented for a moment, regret filling him once more as he knows he will be berating his student for the last time. "I didn't expect to go before you. I'm sorry." Excuses from Crumena again, but it was alright. That's just how he was. "You may very well be the last Aegisian left, Crumena Ilwindor. Maybe you can go back to the Mages Guild." More choking, more blood. Time was running out. "If you still hold the ideals of the Sunlit Path in your heart, take the only thing I have left. Take my title of Seeker. And no more Izalith bullshit, you hear me? **** that house."

A dramatic and loquacious high elf to the end, he compared the dying human to a former highly regarded Ascended named Shoi, but he wasn't really interested in listening. He just hoped that Crumena would keep himself out of trouble, and maybe he would go back to being a mage. At least mages were expected to create trouble, a troublemaking paladin was always a sore point that he had with his first student. 

 

As the sun set and the cool winds of night blew across the hilltop, Jack started babbling about himself incoherently. Starting as a namless fisher's son, leading the Oren Rangers, becoming the Grosstrebler of the Teutonic Order, taking the surname Vivaeyn, betraying his Hochmeister Samuel Bealcrest, before finally being branded traitor by Xan. Runic tattoos carved into his face, warning all who approach him that he is never to be trusted, cursing Jack with power and duty to the realm.  How much he hated being a pawn for a God, but knowing that he is duty bound to atone for his sins until his dying breath. He just didn't expect his jailer to die before him, but he would be following soon after. 

 

 

He let out one last heavy sigh, turning his head skywards, seeing absolutely nothing at all. "I did not wish to die so shamefully, but I am going to go on first." 

 

He had much more to say, if given enough time, he would have fret over all his students like Anduin, Lucian, Velenius; and /their/ students. He wanted to say goodbye to his non-paladin comrades. He would want the next generation of Not-Paladins to know the challenges that await them, to be prepared to go into hiding, to prepare for the next strike. But he no longer had a duty to anyone or anything. His only duty now, was to rest for eternity. 

 

OOC: 

Fun ride, sad I didn't get to blow myself up. Had lots of fun, wish I was in American timezone haha. My first and last character on LOTC, probably. Jack was always meant to be a bit of a Gandalf figure, but I think I was just simply terrible at being mystical, so he ended up being the only old person in a group meant for young hot blooded Paladins. Elves dont count since they can be whatever age they want to be. 

 

Jack has OOCLY provided the MA to the following students: 

 

1. Crumena Ilwindor
2. Velenius
3. Tilruir'tir
4. Lucian Horen
5. Icroth Vursur
6. Diomedes Terin
7. Anduin Rhys Dering

8. Eugeo De Astrea

But many have claimed lessons from him, you know who you are! To those of you who still might have my relics, not sure what the future holds, but hope it served you well. 

[DahStalker 3692]

Once blessed by the zealous might of Xan, now fallen to a husk of venomous rage, the ex-Commander Hillith Athna raised her arms in a final effort, heading to the foundation of the Titan, where his ilk lurks. It was instances such as Jack's death which fueled her, and it was said unbridled hatred that would lead to her own inevitable demise. She had loved Jack, for he was some of the only family she had, and vengeance would be sought in vain. For it is only befitting of an Athna. 

[Rig 17580]

(Much love to you man, I wish there’s more we could have done on here together. Always happy to speak to you or hang out. You’re a real one, anything I can do for you, just let me know.)

[SacredSource 397]

Richard painstakingly cleans the body of the old Keeper, preparing it for the funerary service. The tears of the day continue to flow down his face, with torment boiling within his very soul. The body of the Seeker, who had won many wars, lay to rest, while he, a Paladin of a new generation, remained alive.

 

The image of the dying Seeker upon the mountainside was etched into his mind—a memory that surpassed even the death of an Aengul. The last moments of a true hero of descendants. A man who carried and passed the torch of a bygone age. An age of heroism, courage, and victory.

 

The scar of order burned, and the Paladin stopped, turning to stare upon the very manifestation of his generation's failure and defeat: the body of Keeper Jack Vivaeyn.

[trinn 5128]

Stories, ruminations and memories were shared to her of Jack; whether by Tilruir'tir or the Sage, his presence had made itself known to her even before their meeting. She suspected his death would be much the same, lingering in the spaces of her life long after the passing. 

 

Spoiler

been such a joy to finally meet you o7 should've listened to garrett's paladin ramblings earlier and came 2 play in luxem !! 

 

[Chase 3793]

Tilruir'tir, no longer of Joma could do little to restrain the flood of emotion that overwhelmed him as Jack had passed in his arms. He was kin, through and through; from hours spent on watch in Luxem's Keep, to the escapades upon the Queen Dawn's Revenge throughout the years, now to Apotheosis and it's cruel machinations. He had set the young elf on the straight and narrow when direction was all he desperately sought. He had mentored him throughout the Inferic wars. He was instrumental to the Order; pivotal especially to Tilruir'tir.

 

Now, with ordainment so unceremoniously wrought from Janus' agents, casting Jack to the wretched claws of time to draw his last, he found himself lost again.

 

Spoiler

Love you man, easily one of my favourite parts of being a paladin over the years was getting to know and hang with you

 

[Wand 1220]

Fëanor was young when he first met Jack, as Sea Prince in Arcas. He remembered Last Light, how he had sent aid, and the valiance with which Jack had to fight. He was fighting the world back then in his own ways.

The elf had lived long enough to see the agents of Tahariae and Aeriel stripped of their divine connection, a fate now which the Paladins lived. Perhaps he could be there for them, to help them through this new dark age, knowing Jack's vigil had gone. Fëanor first helped by lending his hands to ferry Jack's body to be prepared for the funeral rites. He always had been strong when faced with the dead.

 

Fëanor had been glad to march with them all one last time - and carried Jack's spear through the whole battle. It laid there now in the place where Jack passed to mark the spot. Perhaps he would go back for it later after a few sunsets.

 

Spoiler

Shame we never got to interact more, damn those timezone differences, man. Was always great to see Jack when I could

 

[squakhawk 14038]

A recluse vestal hid within his secluded lodge, far in the north did he bring more firewood to warm the home of him and his companion. He huffed as he looked to his hand, dropping firewood to dry as he placed his axe atop the stock. The woodsman looked over his right, leaning over so as he struggled to catch his breath. Was it age that was catching up with him..? No, never. It couldn't. Lucian Horen looked over his warmed clothing, a hand brushing over it. Was he shot, did he not notice? Was he losing blood? Why did he feel so cold? 

 

He took off the glove of his right, brushing the thick cloth and furs of his chest. His breaths deep, yet hollow- was this it? Finally had the reaper come for his tax? It seemed not. His body was warm, steam burning against the frigid northern air. The thick pine smell nearly overwhelmed his senses as he clutched at his chest. Deeper, further within. It was not his body, his heart which struggled; but his very soul. His connection beyond, that which made him whole.

 

He attempted to reach The Sunlit Lord, his connection burning within; and fading away in an instant. Like a match dropped into water, a flame snuffed within an instant upon his call. His emerald mists manifested for but seconds before trickling out, the last time he would ever be able to call upon them. It was not just this, but a connection deeper as he who graced him with trial, learning, and blessing too had his torch of life snuffed from him.

 

"Oh, Jack." 

He murmured.

"What happened to you?"

 

 

Spoiler

low key kinda immediately felt regret after the event because all my friends started pking their characters - you're one of them bro now you dont have a tether to keep you around :( 

 

ik this is no leaving post or nothing but i wanna say thank you for being my pal and the 2020-2021 ST was probably some of the most fun I ever had working with you, joel, and rift. It was so much fun working with you guys and even with our dogshit timezones it was tons of fun whenever we hung out and did stuff. Always going to miss that. Ill miss bugging you for lessons and doing some awesome initiate rp between Jack and Lucian, and meeting so many cool characters like Gael, Juliette, and others.

 

I hope some miracle happens and you're able to rp a bit more in the future... the world gets nuked and timezones change idk. but ill miss jack a lot because that character had a very real connection to mine, and by extension, between us too. Love you bro. Thank you for the roleplay and the time.