[PK] MARTYRDOM

[Java17 2216]

Amako held now within her hand a will given to her by that pontiff. She sought one Leon II. 

[MALUKOR 225]

"Pontiffs die! BUT!" Aramor hops onto a table, kicking aside a glass and watching it shatter against a wall. A shout of glee.

 

"But the SPIRIT! The Spirit is eternal throughout them!"

[Morphine 823]

Roland von Wesenburg held his head heavy, within the study of his manor. Twiddling in his hand was the Barclay ribbon he received from Brandt many years prior, back on Almaris. While there were times they butted heads, Roland respected the man greatly, especially after having his eye fixed by the late Bishop at the time. If one could sum up the Reinmaren spirit, they need only look to him.

============================================================

Sir Albert Barclay confided in his wife as they sat in their palace chambers. His eyes, misty at the thought of his grandfather being slain, returning memories of his own father's demise. And with his mother also gone, as sickening as it was to recollect on her, Albert had only his brother and sister, and their families, left.

[KillerMaid 636]

"Hey Caius I made some more cake!"

 

Malna wandered into the Holy See, once again yelling about some new baked good she made. 

 

"Caius?"

[Gandhi 3225]

Alfred prayed for Caius - a life worthy of celebration..

[Pancho 4197]

"A stubborn man, yet one with good intention. I can only hope the next Pontiff was as good hearted as this one, even if he never loved my kind."
Cerrick Fenifaer, A Former Paladin, sat in the war room as he heard the news, tapping his fingers along the desk.
"Another Candle."

[sapphic_spidy 1089]

"I did it."

Sydney says, with no satisfaction.

"I outlived him." 

 

 

-----------

 

A young woman, overwhelmed with the day's events, with death after death, will mourn the man who once made her cry, not just out of a sense of duty, but due to what he meant to so many.

 

This is why I should not think poorly of people, or speak poorly of them.

Arabella reminds herself.

They are another life on the same place I find myself in, and they are important.

Everything is important.

[tadabug2000 4918]

A young girl of a pious nature and a love for DIOS heard the news. She had not known his Holiness, but she'd read or been read to about his feats. She couldn't help but wonder what happens now. .

 

---

 

A Lorraine is signed, fingers coiling and pinching over it as the woman sat herself at her desk. She worried for Canondom and what shall come next. Surely the good will win over the bad in the end, but an inkling of doubt had slithered in, unsure.

[Cheese 8883]

“He was a good man,” Juniper could not help but admit to herself in a faulty mirror. The reflection was not hers, but rather a facade she had conjured to hide herself from the very same martyr. “It is a shame I could not help him in his quest against Lanre.” With a sigh, she rose. There was no time to grieve for a man she did not care for.

 

((I’m on my phone so excuse the poor formatting but Caius was such a cool character and I enjoyed my interactions with him!! Enjoy not leading the canondom anymore)

[ellielove15 547]

The Devil-Knight of Dúnkeld paused upon hearing the news. She seemed to sit in silence, conflicting emotions stirring within her. The man seemed to be annoyed by her at least, and outright hated her at worst. Despite this, she was treated somewhat reasonably before his passing. It seemed that he truly wanted peace, despite his biases. She says a small set of whispers, alone within her abode. A mixture of conversation and prayer. 

 

"Rest well. Enjoy the boons of your god."

[RingAroundRosey 498]

Spoiler

 

Grief. 

Grief was something that Verena was not a stranger to, especially as of late. She had battled with herself and what she fought for; the day that her Grandfather had broken her heart - pulling that lever on the gallows. She had gone to the clinic to check on the wounded, only then to discover what she had lost. 

 

Her Marshal had told her that even in the end, he fought with bravery - and held love for his granddaughter. But as she held his final words, and was notified of her part in his will - she didn’t seem to soak any of it. She could care less for money or for rings as her tears dripped upon the parchment. She just wanted her grandfather back for one last talk. One last chance for both of them to rid of their guilt for good.

 

But that would never come.

Edited July 15, 2024 by RingAroundRosey

[Helmet 1454]

Slith, scorched of malflame lumbered back to his home.

Plate was pried off, the moment he vanished behind his doors.

A bottle of  67 SA Aricshdorf Red, pulled from a dusty shelf & brought to his lips.

The embrace of a feather-stuffed mattress, with the helm being removed at last in silence.

It was time to rest.

Edited July 15, 2024 by SlitheryC1

[Demonica 678]

Cordelia reached for the necklace wrapped around her neck. It had never left her since the day she put it there, a bittersweet reminder of the man who had gifted it to her. She knew him best from a simpler time, when she was no Witch and he was no Pontiff, but simply Cordelia and Brandt.

[Hom 1987]

"No, I'm just going to fetch the mail- Yes, I'll tell you if it does," Atticus calls back into the house as he exits, with a pat on the doorframe and a chuckle. Pacing his way down the garden steps and down the mailbox, all the world seems quieter than usual. A funny feeling, like the sun had dimmed just slightly, or the birds had muted themselves. As he slips open the note on the top of the stack of papers, he stops short. He still wasn't used to this- Despite the fact that they came, every now and again. A letter from the Pontiff. There was always a quiet feeling of deception to it, like he'd somehow tricked one of the world's greatest men into thinking him a point of interest, as flawed as he was in comparison. Honor, mixed with guilt. It was a silly feeling, of course. No one could trick Caius into much of anything, and he'd probably be needled for ever saying so.

It's strange, this letter. Everything about it feels final in a way that, even void of context, makes his heart drop in dread. It cuts to the quiet center of every time they had spoken, causes him to read it once, twice, three times over. Finally, he swallows, and folds it quietly. The world seems to grow only quieter. Despite the fear pulling at his chest, he resolves to sit down, and write a swift response.

Not long later, the news reaches him with certainty. He sits in his study, hands shaking with grief as he reads his own reply, over, and over, and over again. He will never send it- It has nowhere to go. But at the end, there lies a promise he intends to keep. "You are right, as you have the habit of being. I cannot sit idly by, out of fear that I will fail. The world needs more men that live in its service, as you do."

For an eve, the world is void of laughter- And one less man who lives for it.

Edited July 15, 2024 by Hom

[Unwillingly 18103]

"He what?"

A dark, cracked beak turns skyward as it spoke, peering at the sunlight shafting through the broken crags of its den from above.

Whether it were bitterness, resent, or frustration, rarely would the death of a holyman stir something in Malphas.

So powerful this one must've been,

Even to these creatures without a conscience.