Until the End [PK]

[Haseroth 1740]

Another soul falls, another pint of blood to add upon the altar of vengeance. A rage boiled ferociously within the heart of the old veteran. With this death, the war was sure to take a much more brutal turn.

When words and repeated mercy had failed, the fires of war would come and consume. It had been true.

A thousand pyres would never have been enough.

 

Spoiler

Props for pking. I love you javvy.

 

[MapleSunflower 1889]

1 hour ago, Andustar said:

News of Thorin Rostova's death travelled far and wide, swiftly. It would not be long until it reached the ears of the King of Balian, John II. He could not believe it - he would not believe it! By what cruel twist of fate did a good man have to die?! Such thoughts pounded the monarch's mind like an infernal bell of judgement, and the rage he so often sought to restrain sprang forth, untamed and boundless. "RRAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" His hands sought the closest object, and he paid no mind to its worth as he hurled it unto a solid marble pillar.

How could he justify this? Not merely the death of a good man, but one who not too long ago he had once called brother...

 

John sank to his knees and wept softly.
 

 

"RRAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" The voice raged from the other room followed by a swift shattering. Immediately, Kathryn rose from where she had been writing at her desk and rushed in to see her husband fallen in despair. She stood in the doorway, cornflower blues flickering to the messenger who remained at his post. Like a broken heart, pieces of pottery scattered the floor in millions of pieces. They could never be restored.

 

With a summon of her finger, she leaned in to hear his news before permitting him at ease. "Prince Thorin was captured and executed, Your Majesty." He whispered. 

 

A sharp ache pierced her heart and the air was punched from her lungs. Her own tears welled within her eyes; Sorrow for the loss of good Thorin, for the widow her dear friend Isabel now was, and his children, one even being their godchild, were now fatherless. The bitter agony of war. Without a word, Kathryn now knelt before her husband and eased him into an embrace, resting her chin upon his head with tender care. 

 

Mercy, Thorin had been given once. John had fought for it amidst the calls for his execution in Hyspia. It was what was right. A man should return to his family, for he committed no crime other than doing what he was told to. Would that not be what all would want if they were in his shoes? Thorin was lucky that night, and every night Kathryn prayed for his safety... But luck ran out and they were not there to guide for his release. Thorin was a good man. A good man gone. 

 

Saltwater tears trailed down Kathryn's cheeks as she wept softly for the Rostovan Prince and his family, pressing a soft kiss to John's temple in gratitude that she could still hold the one she loved.

 

How her heart ached for poor Isabel and her children. 

[DancingZebra267 1626]

Holy Ser Vincenzo stood solemnly before the altar in the Temple of Ard'Karden. In his hand, he held the missive. As he finished reading, his grip tightened on the parchment, and he slowly folded it pressing the note to his chest. "So... Thorin is gone," he muttered quietly to himself. He lowered to one knee before the altar, tracing the Rhodesian cross over his chest. "LORD, Most Merciful, receive the soul of my friend Thorin, Prince of Ravenmire, a man of honor, of will, and of devotion to his blood and people. He fought bravely, even when surrounded, even when death was certain. Let not his death be in vain. AMEN." He rose from his kneeling position, turning to face the gathered brothers of the Grail. "Thorin was no coward. Thorin was a man who bled for his people. It is not for vengeance that I speak this day, but for remembrance. His second-born son, Allerick Rostova, stands among us as a Brother of the Grail, and so we too carry a part of Thorin's legacy. The Haeseni may have taken his life, but they will not take his purpose. His death is not the end, it is a call. A call to us all to bring this war to its end. For Thorin, for the fallen, and for the living who still believe in justice."

 

Spoiler

I truly enjoyed our times rping together, sad to see his story come to an end. But truly respectable for the PK, I cannot wait to see what comes next for the GREAT RagnarAKAJavvy!

 

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

Spoiler

Always love a good PK. 

 

[comatoseprincess 507]

At the news of her father's death, Alysanna was overcome with emotion. The girl could not help but remember their last conversation, she wished only for it to have been a happier one. Now she stood there, tears streaming down her face as she wept for what she had lost. Who would walk her down the isle? Who would her children know as their grandfather? She could never forgive those who decided to end his life, for this was cruel and unjust. So the girl aimlessly walked around the city, her eyes wandering, almost like she was looking for Thorin, trying to see his face in those close by, yet she would not. It was a face she would never see again.

[Hungy 66]

[!]
Learza Reavenkind would heed the news in absolute disbelief.
"A voice that once commanded both steel and kindness, is no more..." 
Are her first words to the whispers of horror the winds carried to her. 
Her grief is not loud, but it is unwavering. She does not weep, for justice does not cry - it remembers. 

"I will not regret the mortal bonds I make, nor will I wallow in those I lose. I will remember. That is how I will honor him. That is how i will honor all."

She mutters to herself before she turns, reaching for the quill and leather bound book at her desk. If the world seeks to erase his name, she will see it written in ink, spoken in hushed prayers, carried by those who refuse to forget.

With graceful precision, she begins to write - recording events, as she always will.

 

[Turtleofthewoods 106]

in his room above the tavern Trutwin cry's when he hears the news of Thorin's death

[Zqppy 918]

"MY BOY THEY KILLED MY BOY" Earoslav laments from his coin room now immensely distraught "ALL BETS ARE OFF, NO HAENSER SHALL LIVE AFTER THIS. TO VALDEV... SALT THE LAND!"

[Lirinya 4021]

A cry of pain rang through the streets of Portoregne when the news came delivered to the Kingdom. Thorin Rostova, dead, the header of the notice read.

 

It couldn't be, could it? Surely that had been his uncle, or an extended member of the family she had never known. It couldn't be her Thorin, could it? 

Not that she had the right to call him that. He had been left in old Ravenmire to be tended to by the house he would inherit, whilst his mother and father swanned off away from the trials of it all. They hadn't, really. But Thorin never knew that, and it was too late now.

 

This war had ruined so much. They had fought for peace once throughout her own childhood, and that had been how she had met Allerick Rostova to begin with. Children of war, with Allerick on the opposing side, he had once sought refuge after the Veletzian diaspora had splintered. She had never imagined that thirty or so years later, they would sire Thorin- and only Thorin. Ravenmire had been in an awkward place, and she hadn't liked it for a second. Allerick had felt similar; so they left. 

 

What a mistake that had been.

 

She staggered back to a seat, reaching for the arm before she collapsed down into the pillows. Tears came hard and fast, clouding what sight she had still left as she wailed, and wailed. This hurt more than the loss of Allerick had. Though she had already accepted her husband's death, Thorin had been very alive, the last time she saw him. They had held one another, caught up- briefly, and she had told him how proud she had been. There was, at least, that comfort.

 

There was that old Human saying. That a parent should never have to see a child buried. That they should never outlive them. And while she had long since abandoned the privilege to call Thorin her son, Cosima fell the loss raw, for all its pain. For a life she had never shared with her one and only child. For a life he could have had away from Ravenmire or indeed, with it had she and Allerick stayed. And for the live she could have attempted to repair, through the years she had left.

 

But now. 

The future felt so hollow.

 

---

 

The Palace of Portoregne bustled when the issue was made; when the statement of the Ravenmire Prince was shared. The King lamented the loss of his friend, and many staff who had known him in passing, crossed themselved with silent prayer. There had been no hate here, in Balian. Whilst they had fought on opposing sides, this game of faith and politics could not ignore that in this day, a friend had been lost.

 

Isidora slid the page from a pile of letters that had built atop her desk. Several she had failed to reply to for one reason or another, and many from her Rostova friends. Alysanna and Allerick, even Miguel- oh, how were they going to manage? Were they going to be alright?

 

She sighed. The sort of sigh that acknowleged the work that needed to be done as she drew pen and paper before herself. 

 

The lorraine was signed over her form, a prayer to the dead was offered under her breath. And then, she got to work.