And so the story ends! The saga of Obok Metaldrinks [PK]

[Ardory 2978]

Far within the deep and frigid northern forests, a fur cloaked figure bearing a deer’s skull marks cuts against the bark of a pine. The name of the fallen dwarf being carved upon the surface. Upon completion, they holster the knife and stares at the name for a few minutes or perhaps a few hours.

 

“Thus fell the last of the great Shamans. Zabub holds nothing but praise for him and is beyond proud.”

[PrimnyaQuorum 3999]

The Pale-Elf idled upon a southern coastline solemnly as news passed. His work was ever brutal, and bittersweet; whilst his own memories of the legendary dwarf could never fade, he knew time would be cruel to the legacy of Obok. 

 

He remembered every word spoken between himself and the dwarf as if they had been uttered a moment before; every feat he had been witness to. In that cruel era of war and bloodshed, obok had transcended above it all. 

 

All stories had an ending. It was a terrible shame obok's had come when it had, on a land yet undiscovered of its mysteries. The Pale-Elf could only hope obok would find peace wherever he came to be. It was now the world's duty to surpass the legendary legacy of a single dwarf, and to remember such feats. 

[Zemzy_Oakheart 347]

From within the depths of the grand library would a certain gobliness toil away at cataloguing a few books in the midst of the day, only disrupted by the sound of a knock at the door & the news delivered in a quiet tone. Though the figure who delivered the news left as quickly as they came to deliver the information, Gummy would remain frozen in thought of the name; how it dredged up old memories at the same time her ears drooped in the privacy of the large room.

 

A part of her could feel his soul head towards the Stargush'Stroh, how it felt as if only yesterday did she teach the man about their ways of healing & hexes.... Gummy's gaze wandered over to a nearby drawer in the wall as she felt the urge to open it & pick up an old book she'd made sure to keep track of with the utmost care; the dwarven handwriting still as vibrant as the day he'd given the copy to her. A tear welled up in her beady gaze as she looked it over, as if it were brand new again- No; as if it were the last remains of a friend she idly missed drift away to the winds. The gobliness would then hug that book close so as to protect it from the falling tears smudging such craftsmanship she would cherish more than most would expect.

[Apotolofo 2204]

As word reaches the Winged Shaman, Hera of Dawn softly sobs as she carves a bone charm, to be braided into her hair. 

 

Another friend, gone with the wind. 

 

The scent of banana bread lofts from a newly made candle. . .

[Turbo_Dog 3566]

Spuds read along the news. This was a day he never thought would even be possible. No sadness came over him though. Only those final words and not even they moved him to anything. But they would be written into his eyes, and into his actions.
 

Reaching to his emerald badge and looked at it. They were promoted the same day. Good times to remember when he was around. But as old adventures faded, new ones would come and current ones would rise to the shoes left empty. Thus Spuds began to plan, tipping his bottle over to pour a drink out for his fallen friend even if it was on his wooden floor.  “You’ll be taken care of. Keep watching us if you can, we will do you proud.” 

[latte 2238]

a strange woman of even stranger affiliation walked the word without knowing her actions once again caused the death of the innocent. Really, it was his fault for sharing the timeline with her. If he hadn’t, well, he wouldn’t have fell victim as collateral damage to her curse of wreaking unfortunate havoc.

[truelarper 593]

Somewhere, an old Uruk sheds a tear, it a mirror of light against his bronze shield. 

[ArgentEra 459]

A small scrapwork bird tapped lightly on Quill’s door, pulling the Musin from his work.

 

He turned to look at them, and gave a soft sigh. 

 

“Another letter?” 

There had been many letters lately. Many people meeting with him to collect a loved one’s belongings. Though not the ones of the man whose name was upon the announcement the bird held.

As he read the letter, he choked back tears.  

 

Another person he had called friend had passed, and so soon after the first.

 

”Rest well Obok… Ye served the Brathmordakin… Nae… The World well.”

[cometking123 236]

Rewan is despondent upon hearing about the death of Obok Metaldrinks. The bard sang a small repose for departed friend.

 

Spoiler

Oh, my friend with cloak of night, the mask that tracked beasts of forest past.

A patron who offered tale and tailor, who offered  life to starving soul.

Horns of bone and spine of iron, collector of baubles and bars of gold.

The axe that sundered Obsidian Drake and countless hordes.

Now rests with Yemekar in sacred halls.

 

 

Silence loomed from the tent where Rewan sat. Everyday he looked out from realm's stage, only to see favored patrons leave one by one. How cruel is it that Horen's curse struck him slow, while a friend of many years falls to unknown cause. His chest ached both with grief and the Gravelord's "gift" that drank the sorrow with glee. 

 

As the sun came up, the Talespinner rode. Horse and rider entered the abandoned city where the cavern walls seemed to swallow them whole. They navigated past rotting barricades and empty tavern, past abandoned stalls and unlit pyres. 

 

Leaving the steed behind, Rewan entered the crypts where the darkness beckoned.

 

The dead laid in chiseled repose as Rewan scanned with torchlight an empty tomb. Offering flowers and a bottle of ale in the indentation, he stood there with tears in his eyes. He would like it, Rewan mused, that he be here with his kin.

 

Where marble knew not the name of favored son, spoken word shall have to do. 

 

"To Obok Metaldrinks."

 

Edited May 11 by cometking123

[simatra 373]

The Lost Sheep, having known the dwarf in a past life, goes out to buy a drink. Pulling back his cowl to reveal his skull, he bows, and pours out the drink. An honor to one he'd almost forgotten, but the one of the first dwarves he had ever respected. 

[Onnensr 1908]

Spoiler

I don't think I ever directly met the character, and yet I've seen his name all the four(?) years I've been on lotc. RIP to an actual living legend and a piece of history

 

[JediMaestro 240]

Somewhere in the wilds of Azuras, an elven hermit raises a glass of honeyed wine to a dwarf who was once a bronzed brother-in arms.