THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING (PK)

[tilly 5115]

“Sheesh!” Cried an old-as-dust Pétrine monarch. Be it from the Seven Skies or the very land of Aevos where she was last known to dwell, one may never know. All one could say was that Renilde and Uther did indeed cross paths, and even perhaps came of age alongside one another as their realms matured beneath their guiding hands. “Rest peacefully, Tar-Numenatar. I hope to join you soon for mead.”

[beetle 3315]

Eriantiel stood outside her home, wrapping herself in a green cloak as she tried to comfort herself. As the cool morning breeze swept through, the princess closed her eyes as she placed a hand over herself; her heart aching in pain and in grief. It finally dawned on her - Uther, her grandfather, was dead. The man who taught her almost everything was one of the main reasons she was still alive, to this day. Tears quietly rolled down her face, relieved to know he would rest peacefully, escaping the utter chaos of their world.

[milksoda 2884]

Spoiler

Ugokoyama Atsuko tries to park her 272 SA Subaru Forester into the parking lot but sees many 'Reserved' signs on empty lots. This throws her into Templar rage as she shifts the car from neutral into D (for dauntless charge) driving directly into pedestrian traffic. (jk love u guys)

A messenger came to the office of the Iron Lady with another parchment as she piled letter upon letter onto a great comical stack.

-+-

As she peeled it open carefully and panned over its contents silently she excused the Messenger

"What a terrible day for rain." mused that warrior poet, glancing up to clear skies, as she remembered her and Danzen yelling at Uther to clench his butt during his training amidst the fields of Acre.

 

Taking her gourd off her hip, she poured one out for her apprentice, her battle brevver, her buddy. . .She tried to remember how to conduct final rites. . .

 

Spoiler

 

Edited August 19, 2025 by milksoda

[carebear 1291]

The ever wandering spirit of Nóruiel lifted her head. Her anger and rage consumed her, and yet all stopped for a moment. Something had changed, a shift in what she knew. Someone was gone. Nóruiel found herself compelled to look towards the sky.

 

There, the restless Queen watched as her great-grandfather's spirit rose into heavens she could never reach.

 

Grief was all she felt for a moment, agonizing and painful grief. And then, nothing. The moment passed, and Nóruiel's gaze moved back to the shadowed forests she occupied.

 

She hoped, at least, he would be afforded the rest that she would never receive.

[Josh3738 3137]

It had been over a century and a half since Ser Alwyn had arrived in Acre, a sellsword by all accounts and only made a knight of the hedge on the whim of another he'd saved days prior. A call had been put out for able bodied men which he had planned to answer, and it was there that he met Ser Uther. He might have thought the young knight a barbarian warlord save for his faith, but his word was true and his deeds even more so as time would show. A sense of duty and honor that seemed to light the way in a world of dark deeds had become a guide to a younger Alwyn who would spend his life trying to live up to the paragon the Adunic warlord would grow to become.

 

From the golden fields of that forsaken town to the dire days of the Barrowlands, he would follow his new lord and swear an oath of fealty through unceasing rains and watchful nights. Torn from those new lands, he followed again to the shores of Aevos and knelt again to swear oaths atop the mountains they had claimed, promising forevermore to watch over the lands of the Númenaranyë and the renewed peoples of Adunia. All this and more came flooding back as every memory of his dear friend played through his mind, a century and a half of sorrows and joys, adversities and the days they'd overcome them.

 

And so the halls of Formindon echoed with the crashing of furniture and the hoarse, anguished cries of the eldest Glennmaer. Behind the doors of his solar, Ser Alwyn grasped the leg of a chair in one hand, or at least what remained of the chair, and the crumpled letter in his other as he sent a kick into his already overturned desk with a yell. The papers that had fallen at its upheaval scattered further as he cleared his way to the center of the room to send another boot into a chair before the fireplace, splintering it in the process as another cry escaped his lips.

 

The servants were wise enough to leave the old lord alone, and it would be a long time before the room would fall silent once again. As the sounds of destruction at the hands of the grieving knight died, he knelt in the midst of the carnage. Exhausted and broken, he simply grasped the letter between his hands. 

 

"My Captain... My King..."

[__Hergh 785]

Morrigan Pendraic was roused from her slumber upon delivery of the missive. Her heart sank upon reading those words. Her father was dead. A pang of guilt hit her; in her absence, she had no time to say her goodbyes. The papyrus was allowed to fold as she rose from her bed, that once strong and proud adunian now feeble and old.

 

Perhaps she'd soon join her father if time allowed, but for now, she crept through the corridors of her home as if a shadow of her former self.