The Closing Of A Book...

[everblue2er101 906]

Outside, the sun was still rising over Arethor. Although dawn had broken long ago and the morning mists had dissipated, it was early enough for most people to be asleep. Outside, the streets were mostly empty. The occasional passerby walked to and fro, sending out sharp noises from where they stepped on the road, but they were still few. A horse clip-clopped on the street, bearing a cart towards a peasant marketplace. The fields were quiet, awaiting those who worked them to come and gather the crops. The shops were silent, waiting for the merchants to arrive, for buyers and sellers to flock to them with bags and baskets of wares. Even the sounds of construction were silent, a rarity. But in the basement of the Cathedral, a figure sat at his desk.

The old man had come just as the sun revealed itself fully over the horizon. It was extremely early to be getting up, and especially to go to work, but the scribe had little choice. The plague had forced him to leave his office for extended periods of time, and when he returned it was to a mess of papers and letters. Sorting through them all was proving a long and arduous chore, one that he was trying to achieve quickly. It didn’t help that he was so tired, and his chest wheezed, and the cold of the Cathedral basement stiffened his joints. He was used to these conditions, or so he thought. Presumably all the moving he had done during the plague had weakened him even more. News of a possible Undead return had done the same, nearly making him faint when at the Cloud Temple. He felt physically weak, but also mentally as well. So, the Royal Scribe felt that he should be getting to work as soon as he could.

Fortunately, he managed to achieve plenty. Letters were responded to, documents were archived and people were seen. They started arriving in the early morning. A few couriers, some peasants, the usual nobles with their demands. Josef met them all with a small smile and nod of the head. The work that he had achieved in the morning was overshadowed by what those arriving wanted him to accomplish. He would have felt overwhelmed had he had time to think about it.

By mid-morning he had managed to meet the requirements, requests and demands of all those who had come through the office. He sat at the desk, taking a break. Oddly, whenever he got busy like that all the pain seemed to go away, but as soon as he sat again it came back. His throat itched, and with trembling fingers Josef drank from the flask on the desk. The melon juice was soothing.

He had bent over the papers on the desk once more, examining a letter, when he heard a soft rapping at the door. Glancing up, he saw that it was Kernith. Come in, the old man said. His voice sounded weak and frail. Kernith entered, letting the door shut softly behind him. In his hands he carried a few things, mostly papers and parchment, but also a small item as well. I doth bring thee thine mail from upstairs, Josef, the young man said. With a step forward, the assistant scribe set it all on the desk. Josef could see now that it was mostly papers, but there was a small package as well, no larger than a minas pouch. Josef smiled wearily. Thank-you, Kernith, he said. With a small nod, Kernith turned to go. Josef felt a sudden pang. Wait, lad. That was a good job you did with the VonMuerte transcription.

Kernith’s hand was already on the doorknob, but he turned to face the old man once more. Josef felt the pang again, stronger. The face looking back at him was not that of his son. It was that of a young man, one he barely knew. The two of them rarely seemed to talk these days. They lived and worked together, but it seemed that that was all they did. Josef tried to say something else, something expressive. Kernith raised an eyebrow as though waiting. Unable to find any works, Josef closed his mouth. Kernith’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly, and he just smiled somewhat. I thank thee, Josef. The old man said nothing. Kernith seemed to be trying to meet his gaze. Josef kept looking all around the room, from the torch on the wall, to a painting, to the bookshelves. Kernith straightened up. Perhaps ye want to open thine package first. It doth appear most interesting. Josef nodded absently, not really listening. And what are you doing now, lad? he asked Kernith. The young man responded, I must send word to some of the western areas. Tis only routine correspondence. Josef nodded and wished him the best.

Kernith nodded and turned. As he slipped out the door he shut it with a soft click. Josef could hear his footsteps as he walked down the hallway and up the stairs. The scribe coughed suddenly, and then took a long sip of melon juice. Examining the package, he noticed nothing odd about it. Black paper tied with ratty brown string – he had seen similar ones before. Packages like this were rarely of great importance, usually some small gift or another. The rest of the correspondence was probably more serious. He flipped through the rest of the mail. A scroll marked ‘Royal Scribe of Renatus’... a small card with writing... a folded piece of parchment with his name on the front... Josef unrolled the scroll. Right away, he could see the writing was small and difficult to read. Holding it close to his eyes the old man still could not make it out clearly. Frustrated, he looked at the torches. One was barely burning. That explains the dim light, he thought. With a low groan he rose from his seat, intending to relight the torch. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the hallway. A draft came through the door, and both torches were suddenly extinguished with a soft poof. Cursing to himself Josef fumbled for his firestarter. He managed to get it out and place it to the darkened torches. They relit, and the room filled with flickering light. Easing himself back into the chair, he picked up the unrolled scroll once more. Immediately he gave up. The writing was still difficult to read... and the package was tempting him.

Josef set the scroll aside and reached for the package. It was surprisingly light, as though the contents weighed little more than the wrapping itself. Josef was puzzled. Paper or parchment, perhaps? But why not just sent it as it was? He reached for the bow on the top of the package, trying to untie it. But his fingers just couldn’t seem to undo the knot, due to old age or the chill of the Cathedral basement. Scanning the surface of his desk, he picked up the knife he used to cut the nibs on quills. With a quick motion the brown string was cut, and the paper fell away. Inside was a box made of what appeared to be thin wood. His curiosity piqued now, Josef picked up the box and held it to his chest. Looking directly down at it, he opened the lid.

Inside was a mushroom.

As soon as he realized what it was, Josef’s blue eyes widened with shock and fear. He threw the box, and it smashed against the wall beside the door. The mushroom seemed to fall from it in slow motion. Josef watched it tumble as the box shattered, as the fungus fell slowly towards the floor. For a split second, the old man thought he might have gotten rid of it in time. But then he felt it.

The first time Josef had ever suspected was as a child, when he had eaten stew and felt funny afterwards. His allergy had been confirmed one day when he merely walked by one and immediately vomited. Since then, he had avoided them. He was reminded now of the time when he had been walking through the Wilds of Aegis and had fallen into a cave with dozens of them, Desperate, and having landed on his ankle, the young man had scrambled away, eventually falling unconscious outside of Al’Khazar. He had been rescued, that time. And ever since, he had been careful. Everything he ate or drank was inspected, he avoided all contact. Except now.

It started in his nose. A deep, burning sensation. He had held the box nearly right under his face, and had gotten a smell of it. A strong, pungent odour had come from the mushroom. Now, his nose paid the price. But quickly, it spread. His chest, already sore, suddenly felt as though it were ready to explode. He couldn’t breathe. A rash exploded on his skin. The old man, desperate, tried to call out for help. His throat was already sealing, preventing him from making any noise at all. As he realized that no help could come, the deepest sense of loneliness he had ever felt washed over him, making him feel as though he had been plunged into icy water. In his last moments, the old man had no one. His hands grasped the top of the desk, trying to find something, anything. Papers flew, an inkwell shattered. His hands slipped, shaking, banging on the desk. His head jerked to one side, then the other. Slowly, as though he were a puppet with the strings cut, Josef began falling to his right. He fell right out of the chair, landing hard on the carpet. His whole body was in convulsions, from his head to feet.

And then he could see them.

They were there, they were whole... and they beckoned. And in that moment... Josef accepted his fate. Finally, he was no longer alone. Reaching out a hand, he connected with them all.

And so it was that the last Timothee rejoined those before him, as the arms of Aeriel reached out...

It wasn’t long before someone came looking for him. The lad was a courier from the northern lands. He had been to the Cathedral before, and thought he knew what was in store. Give the old man the letter, receive a tip, head back home. But he noticed something was wrong as soon as he stepped in the church. The very air seemed stale and lifeless. With some trepidation, he made his way downstairs. One of the torches in the basement hallway was out, creating a slight gloominess. The courier could smell something odd that grew stronger as he walked down the hall. As soon as he stepped in front of the door, preparing to knock, he saw the body. His eyes opened wide, and he staggered back. The letter he was holding fell from his hands, softly falling to the cold floor below. Trying to recover his wits, he yanked open the door, stepping over the shards of the wooden box. Kneeling beside the body, he could see there was no hope left. The man was dead.

It didn’t take long before Kernith heard the news. He was walking back from the stables, where he had paid a boy to send a message to Solace. He noticed a bit of a commotion on the street out in the front of the Cathedral. Drawing nearer, he heard a man speaking. Dead as a doornail! Lying on the carpet, papers about, wooden splinters! Kernith looked at him with confusion, then carried on past him. No one took notice of the young man as he made his way to his own office in the basement. The first feelings of dread hit him when he saw the crowd in the basement. They filled the hallway, muttering among themselves. Many seemed to be straining to try and see something. Kernith shoved through them all, trying to get to his office, when he came face to face with a young woman. He recognized her as a peasant, a slumdweller from a house near the Timothee’s. Her eyes were large, and they widened even more when she saw him. With a raised voice, she spoke. Kernith! Ya need ta come ‘n see t’is! Curious, but with even more dread, the assistant scribe looked into Josef’s office, the one she pointed to.

It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. For a second, he wondered if Josef had fainted and fallen out of the chair. But then, without even realizing it, he moved swiftly, bending down to examine him. He came to the same conclusion as the courier – dead.

It was an extremely odd moment for Kernith. He wasn’t exactly surprised – the moment seemed more and more likely to arrive with each passing day. Whether it was the plague, or a monster in the night, Nether taint like that which killed Alice, old age or some combination of all, Kernith suspected the end would be soon. Staring at the old face, he could remember so much. Being read to as a wee lad, later being taught in the ways of a scribe, the two of them at the burial of Alice, the tired expression Josef had always had lately. And now... he lay there, still, quiet, and utterly peaceful. Kernith didn’t doubt he had moved on to something better. He allowed himself a minute of silence, and sentiment. Finally he stood, and turned to look out of the door. His face was composed, eyes completely dry and clear.

There was much to do now. He would have to move the body, secure the office, clear the crowd, seek the King, prepare the funeral... Just as he was about to lock the office door, Kernith noticed something odd on the floor, surrounded by wooden splinters and near a broken quill. As he bent down, he realized it was a rather large mushroom. With a soft, secret smile, he placed it on the desk and turned to face the door once again.

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

In the hours that followed, Kernith eventually made way to his office. Josef knew this was coming, he had for years. The old man had been preparing for it. So it was with no surprise and little emotion that Kernith reached into his desk and drew out the piece of parchment. It had been hidden, slipped in between two pieces of wood. Smoothing it out on the surface of the desk, Kernith read over it once more. Then, with the smallest of sighs, he pulled out Josef’s Will as well. Taking them both, he left the basement of the Cathedral. It was a long walk down the hallway, up the stairs, outside, along the road, into the city and to the main board. When he reached it, Kernith paused. The board was covered in old posters and notices. One caught his eye – parchment posted by Josef, one of the usual updates of the Kingdom he had once posted. The ink was faded and smeared. He stared for a second and then shook his head. With vigor he pulled down many of the papers in the centre of the board, leaving a large clear area. Then he added the two new pieces of parchment.

It is with utmost sadness and regret that the death of Royal Scribe Josef Timothee is announced.

Born in the farming village of Bilaboo, east of Al’Khazar, Josef grew up in a safe, close community. His father, James, a haberdasher, and mother, Susanna, a farmer, raised and taught him well in reading, writing and farming. His sisters Flora, Tabitha and Alice were always there for him and instructed him in combat, using a sword and archery. As a young man Josef set off for Al’Khazar, eventually settling in the VonSchlichten Inn. He spent most of his time reading, writing, researching and travelling across Aegis. In his travels he met many people and saw many of the sights the land had to offer. He was involved in many battles against the Undead, including the fall of the Wandering Wizard, the fall of Al’Khazar and the fall of the north. It was in the ruins of Winterfell that Josef was first told by Artorus Elendil about the Phoenix Revolution.

Josef was one of the first to join the Revolution. He believed that King Enor was leading Oren to destruction by the Undead, and wanted to install a new leader who would lead the fight. He was involved in planning the Revolution and was among those who seized Galahar. With the Revolution successful he was named Royal Scribe of the new Kingdom of Renatus. He continued to live and work in Galahar until it fell. In Asulon Josef continued his work under King Tarus, Regent Lycian and King Godfrey. He remained an active and loyal member of the Kingdom of Renatus for the rest of his life. In Arethor he was responsible for the restoration of the Cathedral and graveyard from ruins, remaining the caretaker of both, and also began work on a library, his lifelong dream.

His personal life was marred by tragedy. Although Josef had moved from Bilaboo he remained in contact with his family still living there, as well as his sisters that moved away. Shortly after the fall of Al’Khazar monsters attacked the village, led by an Undead. His father was killed in the attack by a Blaze and family scattered. In Laurelin a few years later his mother died of old age and a broken heart. During the attack of New Terriko his sister Tabitha was killed by a Ghast. It was after this attack, during which Josef and Alice were heavily exposed to taint from the Nether, that they both developed serious health problems. Josef was also shot in the leg by a skeleton, leaving him with a visible limp. During the Battle of the Cloud Temple his eldest sister Flora was killed by a dragon. Josef was somewhat buoyed after hearing that he had a half-brother, but they never met and Josef never learned anything about him. In Asulon, Josef adopted the newborn son of Mardere, an old friend of Alice, after she died in childbirth. Kernith turned out to be the brightest spot in the life of Josef, and he took special care raising him. Finally, Alice died as a result of sickness brought on by exposure to Nether taint.

==========

Josef sat at the desk for a long time. He had assumed that this would be easier. Just write down his thoughts, leave a few notes, and be done with it. But the more he thought about what to write, the more memories came rushing back to him. He had to wade through them, slowly at first, but more and more. A lifetime, all rushing towards him, and all jumbled up. The boat ride to Asulon... Fighting Endermen in Al’Khazar... seeing the plague victims at the Cloud Temple... Tabitha, lying on the floor in the New Terriko house... going to Elandriel for the first time... his mother, working in the fields... A racking cough brought him back to the present in a hurry. With shaking hands, he reached for the melon juice. It soothed his throat and lessened the burning in his chest. Setting the flask down, the old man once more picked up his quill. This had to be done. As he began to write anew the memories returned in droves. He tried to ignore them and keep them at bay. Finally, as the setting sun made the sky blood red in the west, he was finished.

The Final Will and Testament of Josef Timothee

I, Josef Timothee, do record here my final thoughts and last bequests. As this life draws to a close I begin to look to the next. Others have gone on this same path, and more will follow me. Before I do, I feel that I must record my wishes for what will happen once I’ve gone. First, to those I leave behind.

- To Hogarth – My old friend, by the tides of fate we have been separated in this vast land of Asulon. But I remember the old times, the many hours spent in Al’Khazar and the VonSchlichten Inn. May you remain strong.

- To Axl – We have lived side by side, lived together, worked together, adventured across the lands and gone into battle together. It is strange that we should be dealt these hands in life, rising far beyond what either of us could expect. I ask you to continue what you have done, for you have the time that I do not.

- To Zeb – From Al’Khazar to Arethor, we have planned revolution, fought Undead and raised a nation. We lived like brothers, and this turns out to be far truer than we ever thought. I fear not for you, since I suspect we will not be separated for long.

- To Cornelius – May the winds always be at your back and sun on your face. From battling Undead to life in Galahar, we were often near until arrival in Asulon.

- To Eze’kiel Tarus, Reynard Lycian and Godfrey I of Horen – Under the three great leaders of the Kingdom of Renatus I have tried my best to fulfill the duties and responsibilities of the Royal Scribe. I utterly committed myself to the Kingdom since the start of the Phoenix Revolution and have served it loyally ever since.

- To Kernith – I have done everything I can. The world is now yours. Go forth. I will always be watching you with pride.

And to my father and mother, to Flora, Tabitha and Alice, to Mardere... I will see you all soon.

Having few material possessions in this world, I do ask that everything I own be given to Kernith. This includes all the minas I have, the Timothee slum house, all items within Timothee property, and the Timothee middle class house, once rebuilt. I request that Kernith be named Royal Scribe once the position is vacant, for he has the necessary training and desire to fulfill the role. I also ask that he be given the office of the Church caretaker, so that it will be maintained as I have done for many years.

- Josef Timothee

Biography of Josef Timothee - OOC

Josef had a happy, peaceful childhood growing up in the small farming community of Bilaboo, east of Al’Khazar. He was shy and quiet, preferring to read and go off alone. His parents encouraged this, allowing him to flourish in his own way. His beautiful and outgoing older sisters always wanted him to be more like them, learning weaponry and making friends. Josef never really had close friends, but got along with his family and everyone else in the village. His parents taught him to read, write and farm, and as he grew older Josef was also taught about combat from his sisters, trained by them to use both the sword and bow.

Josef officially left the village in his early twenties, moving to the VonSchlichten Inn outside of Al’Khazar. After a long life of solitude he found it difficult to interact with others, and went on many trips to the wilds on his own. As he did he visited many places, learning about them, met many people and sold items he collected along the way. He found that coal, wool, flint and anything he could retrieve from bodies of slain animals or monsters helped him make minas, as well as items taken from unlocked chests. Josef wrote some history books based on events he witnessed and conversations he had. He also later wrote fictional works, mostly based on old stories he had heard in the village. He returned to Bilaboo often and kept the bonds strong with his family. In his travels he met Axl Elendil, and aided him in finding an old book that helped prove his heritage going straight back to Horen himself.

Josef met the Undead for the first time when there was a small attack on Al’Khazar. It dragged on for days, and his friend High Priest Hogarth was struck with lightning. After travelling to Laurelin with others including Axl Elendil, Valdyn and Cornelius they were again attacked at the Laurelin front gates. He was involved in another attack in Al’Khazar, far larger than the first, where he first saw the effects of Nether taint. Josef was present during the fall of the Wandering Wizard, being one of the many who tried to protect him on the King’s Road, and near destruction of the Cloud Temple. During the fall of Al’Khazar Josef joined the unsuccessful defenders, battling mostly zombies, skeletons and Endermen. He was one of the last to leave the ruined, tainted city, with hope that it could still be saved. Once the miasma settled over the former capital Josef fled his room at the Inn for a new one in Galahar. His hatred of Undead grew with each attack, despising their wanton destruction and the horrific loss of life. He never worried much for his own safety in his blind hatred, preferring to slay as many Undead minions as possible during battle. His family was far away, safe in their little village, and he did not worry about them. He was therefore shocked when he heard that Bilaboo was destroyed by monsters led by Undead, killing his father in the process. His family was shattered, and drifted to Laurelin, New Terriko and Galahar. Josef was near Winterfell when the Undead attacked there as well, and was too late to prevent it from falling. Standing in the ruins, with not only Al’Khazar but all of the north lost to Undead, Josef wondered if there was any hope for Oren.

It was here for the first time that Axl Elendil told him of the Phoenix Revolution. Josef was initially opposed to the idea of deposing King Enor, believing him to be the rightful ruler of the Humans. But as he thought it over, he wondered if the rule of Enor had led to the growth in Undead strength that killed his father and tore Oren to pieces. It was at this point that Josef first began to hear the voice of his dead father, urging him to take action. Josef thought about it for a long time, and as he did the voice of his father became clearer, telling him to seek vengeance not only for him but the nation that Josef was part of. Josef joined the Revolution and contributed many items to the effort, as well as writing propaganda. He was overjoyed when more and more people, especially important military and political figures of Oren, continued to add support. He was shocked and angered when King Enor gave the crown to Gaius Marius. Josef knew him as the head of the Black Cross that marched on Oren in the past, and believed him to be the exact opposite of what the next king should be. Josef was among those who seized the fort in Galahar, and was present afterwards when the negotiations began for the crown. Following the creation of the Kingdom of Renatus and Realm of Hanseti, Josef was approached by the new Phoenix government and asked if he wanted to become Royal Scribe of Renatus. He was delighted to accept. He was settling into his job and life in Galahar when he received yet another letter. This time, it told him that his mother had died of sickness and a broken heart. Josef took the blow rather hard, and his sisters Alice and Tabitha moved to New Terriko so that they could stay together. Josef continued to work in Renatus, mostly adding books to the library and continuing to write. During the battle of Galahar, Josef was one of the first defenders. He climbed to a rooftop and shot down as many Ghasts as he could, screaming obscenities to Undead as he did. Following the battle, he raced to his sister’s house and found Tabitha dying, shot by a Ghast. Josef blamed himself for her death, beating himself down by saying that he could have prevented it. Josef did not participate in Undead attacks at Alras, Laurelin or Kal’Urguan but viewed the destruction afterwards. As the world of Aegis fell to Undead he could feel the voices growing stronger, urging him to avenge the deaths. He felt helpless in the face of the Undead threat, but put on a brave face for everyone else. As the final hours of Aegis drew closer, Josef realized for the first time that Aeriel had failed them and the lands would fall, which nearly broke him.

Josef survived the destruction of Aegis and rode the Renatus boat with Alice. It was there that they learned that their oldest sister Flora had been killed at the Cloud Temple, struck down by a dragon. Josef immediately considered jumping overboard, but Alice pulled him back. She said that although their family had been damaged, they still had each other and the Undead had been defeated. Josef took peace in this, and as he stood at the front of the boat with the sea spray in his face he finally realized that there was nothing he could do. The voices grew softer and less frequent. He was shocked and delighted to learn that he had a half-brother, born from an Elf of Laurelin that his father had an affair with. However, Josef was never able to find out anything, including even whether his brother had survived the destruction of Aegis.

After arriving in Asulon Josef went with other Renatans to what appeared to be an abandoned Human city. The city was in ruins, and Josef threw himself into the rebuilding process. He took an immediate interest in an old cathedral and attached graveyard. With little help, he began to restore the building. He learned many techniques about stonecrafting as he worked on it. Once it was complete Josef remained the caretaker of the area. Josef continued his work under King Tarus until he left Renatus, leaving Reynard Lycian in charge as regent. Under the regent Josef was added to the Ashen Council, being the Royal Scribe. Soon after this war was declared on Renatus by a coalition headed by Hanseti and the Orcs. Although by this time Josef was getting too old to aid in combat he continued to support the war effort through creating propaganda and encouraging the soldiers.

It was around this time that Mardere, an old friend of Alice, appeared in Arethor. She told Josef and Alice that she was returning from living in the Wilds and was pregnant. The Timothee siblings could learn nothing more, and allowed her to stay with them. They had planned on aiding her during the birth of her child, but events transpired against them. Alice was caught unarmed in a cave by monsters, and in order to find her Josef, Axl Elendil, Halboron Elendil and several others stormed the caverns she was in. Although their efforts were successful, upon returning to the middle class house they discovered that Mardere had given birth alone, and subsequently died. Feeling guilty, Josef and Alice agreed to raise the child.

Following the coronation of Godfrey I several changes came to Renatus. The middle class house of the Timothee’s was demolished as part of the city reconstruction, and they moved back into the slum house Josef had once lived in. Josef had begun work on a library, his lifelong dream that was also demolished as part of the reconstruction.

As Josef and Alice grew older they also grew sicker. Upon her deathbed Alice managed to convince Josef that it was a result of their exposure to Nether taint in New Terriko. Josef had denied this all of his life, hoping that his greatest enemies had been completely eradicated in Asulon. He had rarely spoke of them and tried to erase them from memory. The insistence of Alice nearly drove him mad, but he saw the truth in the end. No matter what he tried, the Undead had managed to steal away his entire family, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. As Alice died Josef realized that he too would soon be claimed by the effects of the Nether taint, and so began what would be the end of his life. He made Kernith an assistant scribe of Renatus, so that the boy could take his place, wrote a Will, and tried to contact old friends.

OOC Thank-Yous

I would like to thank Lord of the Craft for giving me the chance to play as Josef. Before I came here, I had never really role-played for long periods of time. All characters I had created were rather shallow and usually only used briefly. On LOTC I’ve played Josef for nearly seven months, and what a ride it has been. He has changed so much, starting as shy young man wanting to record the history around him to the Royal Scribe of Renatus. And all that has happened in between, all the events he was in and other characters he met, all that helped shape him, I am truly grateful for.

So thank you to Shields, for giving me helpful advice after my first server app was denied, Tyrion for accepting the app that got me playing, Ninja and AllentheGreat for accepting his VA, Axl, Zeb, Cornelius and Hogarth for being his greatest friends, to the leaders of Renatus for allowing him to remain as Royal Scribe, to those who have given me support in the attempts for his VA, to those who gave me feedback on what I wrote as or for him, to Ben Powell for making his skin, for everyone else in LOTC who he ever interacted with, and everyone else in LOTC just for making this the game, the experience and the community that this is. I never expected that I’d have so much fun, get so involved in the community or managed to achieve as much as I have.

[Braehn Elendil An'Hiraeth 474]

*Artorus is reads the will, and looks up from his desk in the Solar at Winterhall. His face is making many expressions, for he can not decide to feel angry, or saddened. He looks to his butler, Louis, who brought it too him. "Leave me be Louis, for I need time to grieve. Make sure Harrion and Torren finish their training in the courtyard." Louis for once, was silent, and left the room. Axl slumped into his chair. "Dear old friend...you will be missed. The man who sent this "Poison" to you, will be found, and will pay..." *Axl then crumples the letter and tosses it into the brazier, not wanting to look at it again.*

[deathmetus 152]

*Reynard sitting in his courtyard watching the construction of his city as it slowly builds up a dark hooded courier arrives bringing him news of Josef's last moments. He gets up and walks out of the courtyard quietly to the sea quietly thinking over the days he and Josef had shared together, "I truly will never forget one of my most trusted friends. He served me and this nation truly with all his soul. I hope now he is at peace, and he may forgive my family. . . Rest in peace Josef, you were a true man of Renatus." Reynard then calls over one of servants and asks him to speak to Boiendl, if he still lives, or James in a request that Josef be given a funeral worthy of a Duke of Renatus. Once the servant has left he sighs and pulls out a letter Josef sent to him a week or so ago.*

"I am sorry not to have answered. . . I will truly miss you my friend. . . "

*He folds the note and puts it back into his jacket.*

"Truly you were a man in a thousand and none should ever forget your service to Renatus or to Old Oren."

*Reynard enters the local Inn to sit and write a tribute worthy of the old scribe's deeds*

[everblue2er101 906]

Despite all that Josef had done in preparation for his death, nothing he left behind made any reference to a funeral. This was fitting, Kernith thought. The old man had always tried to avoid being in the middle of anything, or the center of attention. But more than one noble had come to him to inquire about when it would be held, and so Kernith chose a time. The notice was posted in the center of the newly built area of Arethor, at other places in the city and sent by bird or courier throughout the nation.

Funeral of Josef Timothee

The funeral for the late Josef Timothee, former Royal Scribe of Renatus, will be held in the Arethor Cathedral. Josef served the Kingdom ever since he was named Royal Scribe after taking part in the Phoenix Revolution. For nearly fifty years he held the post. The funeral will be presided over by Bishop Boiendl and will celebrate his life. Anyone wishing to attend is welcome. A date and time are listed.

((I wasn't planning on having one but there's been a lot of expressed interest. It will be on Tuesday at 4 EST.))

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.