An Explosive End [PK]

[Calise11 841]

His Nordic sister had taken solace in Okar's empty home in Jun-Lei, sleeping on nothing but empty floorboards alongside her kin, Kelpie, the deceased's future wife. She returned to the clinic once those mourning had passed threw and stripped his armour and tossed the Valeh crest aside with nothing but distaste for its sight. How foreign the man looked in the armour, dressed in the crest that brought him so much pain, so much anguish in the months before his time... She damned him for not furnishing his house, her back ached with the bite of wood but she would stay in Koyo-Kuni for as long as needed. She would see that his funeral went accordingly. And those who made his last months turmoil would answer for their actions.

[ProcaPro 557]

The news had not been well received, by Grae. She'd expected something awful, when her sister had written for her to come home. She'd expected injury, some harrowing tale or new world-ending threat to be aware of, some new atrocity or strange specter. She hadn't expected to come across a clinic full of mourners, less-so to round the corner to see the corpse of her friend.

 

Grae had wept like she never really had, before. The room was too small, the air too thick with tension. It brought her back to places she didn't want to be, sounds and smells and pains she never wanted to experience again. She hadn't been there to help Okar'sil, she hadn't had the chance to repay him for what he'd done for her and helped save her from, she'd never had the ability to truly mean it when she said she was getting better.  Too little, too late, perhaps. Grae had swallowed her grief, given her friend one last hug, and stumbled away in the end. It was all she could do.

[Moumins 378]

Bwbach does not quite understand death- or the concept of loss. Yet, it came to feel, in the coming days, that it no longer had as many friends as it used to. A sad song rings from the sprite's tree, lamenting Okar's absence.

[KillerMaid 636]

Malna stood there, hearing the news now... she looked at her wall, portraits of fallen friends were now there... Some were made by artists, and some were of lesser quality by her. Each one had a name with it, each one a remembrance.

 

"... he was ne supposed to die. I should have had more time."

 

She tried not to cry, refusing to lose any more tears. They dripped down as she tried to sketch a picture of Okar'sil, setting it on her wall... Another memory to never forget.

[KidKrinkles 2043]

Victor knew Okar only in passing. Largely through way of his apprentice, Sebastian. It seemed his friend's cherished folk were dying in droves in these dark, dark days.

 

Though the death did make sense to the man. Below their chasm, deep in the Underdark, did the Numenedain Expeditionary Force ward off the Mori and parlay with the Order and Levanters to broker a peace. Tense, and on edge, when an explosion did above ring out.

 

He wondered if the Mori had opted for cruder tactics. But their sacrifice rang true throughout the caverns from the Veiled Reliquary still lost to time, all the way back up to base camp.

 

And so, the King of Cigs did bow his head and utter a word of acknowledgement and respect to the man who went out with a bang.

 

 

"Smokey."

 

[Ches 70]

In the morning... Tili spoke no words as he walked through the Vale. The citizens knew what happened that fateful night, as one could imagine Okar would have been there to have known as well, standing amongst the citizens.

 

Tili called his horse and rode to Jun Lei.  He didn't ride fast, he treasured what peaceful sounds of nature and birds sung, and warmth and freedom of the open lands- because every other quiet moment was filled the blasting potion sound and Celadon's scream, the dark ridge and cold esscence. Flesh and bone flying, the cool dark ambience of the Rangers and Dreadknight. He still felt Okar's limp body through the reins of the horse, as he roped Okar's body down, then carried them outside the cave.

 

Upon his arrival, he gave his nods to Xil and others as he met Okar's grave. He stared at it, as if Okar was staring up at him while he carried him out Hacksaw's Ridge. Tili always wished to speak with Okar more, but never did try as he believed they'd have more time in the future. He bit his tongue as he thought that- he has no more time. There won't be another time seeing Okar across a bench in Jun Lei. There won't be another time seeing Okar admist the faces walking around the Vale. The only time you will see Okar now- is in his grave in Jun Lei.

 

"Yauh auh omaca yehuan, Okar. Tlpana... amo- Citialin inon ilhuicatl, aquin huetzi tlalli."

Spoiler

Go and guide us, Okar. Warrior... No- Star from the Sky, that fell back to land.

 

Tili made no effort to translate as his ears still rang, and every moment kept playing through his head, He gave a warm smile to everyone, gave hugs to those whose eyes conveyed they needed them, and after spending sometime hearing stories of Okar... only then... did he begin to ride back home...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Hawkeye_Gough 624]

Deep within the Underdark, a "Golem" watches Okar'sil as he was shot with azhl, blown up, and shot twice more during his heroic sacrifice. The construct shakes its head, for it had been too slow to provide much assistance. The thing's mind, free from its very action, lamented in mourning even as its body roared defiance against the still-falling foes.

"Your time is not yet, friend Okar."

At first, this thought browsed the mind of the creature as mere denial. But soon, it was emboldened. Not a regret, but a promise.

"You have more to protect, for that is your way."

Before the rest of the group had settled in at their new campsite, already was the abomination climbing its way back to the surface...

"You will return to us, my friend, and you will pave for others Freedom."

And on walked the Pale Lord, bound for the City of the Dead.

Edited January 23, 2025 by Aden

[Wynather 26]

Talanashta: Okar's apprentice/daughter of two years.

 

 

Okar was dead, she checked herself.

 

She was following her robotic fairy around the little picnic island Okar had shown her, talking about everything and anything she was in the middle of doing, strutting about: proud of her Okar.

 

“Okar’s still teaching me how to make armour,” she’d said. “He’ll teach me how to make weapons soon I bet!” The fairy had giggled and smiled, flitting about and watching the child.

 

They’d wandered over the bridge, the fairy sitting on her shoulder and swinging her legs when a man rushed past, dipping in greeting and continuing on. She thought nothing of it until she reached the forge, Xil and Kelpie standing around with some other man.

 

They didn’t say much, hardly looked at her... But it felt all too familiar as they spoke about taking Okar’s things from the forge... Why would they do that? She knew he’d be grumpy if he found out. She was then taken to the clinic by another man who spoke even less, where she heard sniffling and saw sad looking people outside.

 

The smell is what got her first, one she recognised: death.

 

She steeled herself, the fairy slipping into her bag and hiding from the room. Tala turned to the man, a couple of other women in the way of the only occupied room she guessed he was in.

 

“Is he dead?” she’d asked, standing her full 4’6” and lifting her chin slightly. He gave her a slight nod, and her hands clenched at her sides. Her nose stung and her throat felt tight, but she still had to see for herself.

 

She skirted around the weeping women, stopping still at the figure on the bed. A haunting smile was on his face, she knew it was him even though it seemed like it wasn’t: his body seemed dismantled in a way, though she couldn’t quite figure out how or why. Tip-toeing over, she leaned down and pressed a subtle finger to his neck, just in case... Before leaning even further and kissing his forehead.

 

They were never ones to say ‘I love you’ or ‘daughter’, but she felt it right to say at least one of them now.

 

“Thank you Papa,” she breathed, tears filling her eyes as she quickly fled the room.

 

But leaving to cry was the hardest thing this ten year old had ever done.

 

She slipped from the clinic and bolted it, straight past two kids and a viking lady, the smell of death stuck in her nose as she fought to suck in the cold evening air to replace it.

 

Two years of feigned support in her eyes, of trust broken again... Because he liked his adventures and fighting more than the forge and home.

 

She hiccuped and covered her mouth as she ran, heart in her throat and tears streaming down her face. She did what she was always taught to do when she didn’t feel safe; when she felt unprotected: run.

 

She ran until her lungs burned, losing her horse, her first ever boots and her robe as she stumbled through the forests and down blue lantern-lit pathways. She collapsed in another stumble as her legs finally gave out, her blood-curdling scream carrying over the empty fields with no one to hear it: the last signal of grief and sadness she would express ever again.

 

[graveyard_bones 213]

A brief wave of acknowledgment was always sent toward Okar'sil in their passing; however, Sariel never paid any attention to the person Okar'sil was. It was difficult to grieve a man he never knew, yet the pain felt in the quaint village far from Koyo-Kuni rubbed off on him.

 

Death was always an odd concept to him, for they still lived on in writing, no? Or maybe that wasn't for him to determine.

 

No tears are spilled, no woes to be said. He continued onward as if it was another day. 

[WhatASithuation 210]

Athri was the type of person who was always busy, who scarcely had time to relax, to collect his thoughts, and reflect. When the news of his apprentice's sacrifice reached him - he shut himself off. More things to do. A ceremony. He'd use his artistic skills to tend to the body in cold and calculated motions. Using artist's clay over the existing wounds that would never heal - paint to bring life back to Okar's rigid and pale form. Athri wanted those who saw him at the pyre, when they said their final goodbyes, to have the last image of him within their minds to be of what he was. Not the lifeless corpse before him. He'd spend hours, perfecting this morbid piece of artwork.

And then the time came. He guided others at the funeral. He set up the memory stone. He ensured Okars ashes and personal belongings were in good hands, guarded. Dispersed in secret. He encouraged Okar's spirit to move on. Thankfully, with the help of Okars family, Athri believes that he did. A better fate than the potential alternatives.

Anger.

Anger was the only thing he felt afterwards. He repressed it , deep down within the recesses of his mind. He already had shown enough weakness after the kidnapping of his daughter. He needed to remain stoic, friendly, and firm. But that anger, kept pushing on the walls of his psyche. He blamed the Vale.

'They pushed Okar away. They tried to use him for political gain. They were possessive, and did not allow him to live his life. They did not respect him.'

Now, his student, his dear friend, is dead. The Vale killed him. That is what Athri kept telling himself. A broken record stuck on repeat . . .

'It was the lack of leadership and organization - they were unprepared. That's why he died. That is how they got an oemii killed.'

But, he knew Okar's nature. Athri would fight with himself. Okar was selfless. He was a hero - this he believed. This was his own choice, but would Okar have had to make that choice in an organized and professional setting? He still did not have the heart to ask Celadon what really happened down there. What was he going to do if it was the Vale's fault? He was in a position to do nothing. There was nothing they could do to change what had happened. In the end, his trips to the beautiful forest city he once upon a time loved to visit, stopped.  He took solace in the idea that the Vale would bring upon their own downfall. Any regret the ex-haelun'orian held to his past deeds towards them, had been wiped clean.

It was only when he approached the temple of Kani, and knelt down before the ever burning bonfire within he was able to take the time to truly reflect. Where he first started to teach Okar the nature of Ryu. How to live in the present. That everything is on a cycle, some cycles, longer than others. But all cycles, one day would end. Nothing was forever. Acceptance of that fact is what would bring one inner peace.

And so, he closed his eyes. He breathed. He brought himself to the present. Athri remained there in the sweltering heat for quite some time, until, what he preached to others became a reality for himself. His anger would fade, his mind would clear. He accepted the nature of the world. In doing so, Athri would find peace, as Okar had.