Ambience - The Death Of A King

[aron. 427]

The room had fallen silent long before the arrow took its lethal flight through the air, her cheeks already stained with tears. Not a seconds breath, a final word, thought, or idea to offer him any final solace for the journey he was about to take; he fell limp into her arms, gasping for an measurable moment of time. Aron’s final words, simple, short, but sharp as daggers would stick only with his wife, a final defiance to their long lasted marriage. Light spilled in from the adjacent door and down onto her lap, his head reigning down the hollow ambiance of shade. Her voice was already a dull whine to him, white, comfortable noise filling his ears. His eyes stumbled with clumsiness, picking up on visions of those he once wronged, and those who wronged him. Finally, his eyes fell upon the one he loved, unable to pry himself from her memory. He did not toss; all fight was lost to him amid the peaceful serenity that loomed over his final moments. His eyes locked with hers, and in that moment, King Aron Bedevere would accept his death.

The room was spinning right before his eyes, taunting his perception of reality, everything seeming to fade away from him. He wheezed out his final words, his throat clogging with blood before he could manage any form of a sentence. “Mary..?” he spit out violently as his body began to fail him, his eyes teasing on the brink of shutting for their last time. Timidly, and with much fright, two of the three Bedevere children made their way just outside their father’s quarters, haunted by their mother’s screams. Nigel had long made his way inside, knowing the grim news was his to announce; “The king had been shot by an unknown assailant..”. His throat grasped desperately at one last breath before his stubborn life would finally escape him. His will, and final wishes would soon follow...

 

 

 

 

[[The first of three posts. This is only to establish what happened, not announce his death. His death would still be somewhat unknown]]

[Lark 2227]

((Grammar Nazi Mode: *Ambience. That is all. Good read btw))

[3andD 1722]

Otto cries, he just talked to Aron yesterday.

[Garukumus 81]

Nigel sits in the keep, wondering how in the nether he is to mold a man out of Relenkai. He cries on the inside.

 

(( +1 would get killed again ))

[MamaBearJade 2090]

Kaila waits in her clinic, knowing little of what happened. Her form loyally at the desk as she writes. Her hands trembling a little more than normal as if an ominous cloud fills her. The money for Aron slowly building and stashed away for safe keeping. Her only hope to returning to the life she had once had.

[Raktar 140]

*Raktar sits down in his blarg, thinking to himself as he begins to draw pictures*

[Mouse 324]

"=("

[Samson Option 9652]

 

 

The mere night and the weeping queen, only they are witnesses to what was seen. The arrow pierced through the King, it was merely one manner to strike fear proper, the two libertines made forth for their escape as the queen wailed; none shall stop her. The torturous siren would beckon forth the Salvians forth to see their head cut off metaphorically, while the scoundrels would go back into planning euphorically. The very coincidence that the Dwarf King bedded in his tomb would cause the scoundrels to rejoice, they would assume their strike would be more sound against the dwellers of the continent; the evidence was being laid to bear as to why men should quiver.

[◀ Doone ► 54]

    Jericho glares forward sternly, into space, more or less, as he processes the happenings within his mind. Suddenly twitching to the left he glances towards Mary, tears still rolling down her eyes, his own expression a simple, yet lazy, frown. He knew nothing, too much, or a manner of too little within his mind. His breathe slows somewhat as his mind rushes from one thing to the next, every procedure, every possibility, every plot and wish that he could think of, of his own, his allies, and his enemies. Finally curling his fingers into a ball he lets out another exhale, "..Ch, ch, ch, ch, ch.." he lets out, the air rushing through his teeth as he stands there in survey-- his long ginger hair limp infront of his dull face.

[Zanderaw 162]

As the news is secretly delivered to Legion command, Zandros is struck dumb.

"And no word from the monks?" He asks, the Lord Steward shaking his head in front of him. "I suppose we should keep it quiet until we know for sure..."

Zandros, as calculating and unemotional a person as any, feels a pang of sadness. It is often said and rarely true that a monarch reigns by the love of his people, but Aron Bedevere had exemplified this.

"I hope Relenkai lives up to his father..." He says quietly to himself.

[The Media Wizard 2958]

Azoth strolls through the streets of Salvus, tugging at his pockets. His gaze lifts as he looks about street, humming a soft tune. He approaches Dawn's Bakery with a quick shuffle across the Plaza, tilting his head up to look at the Lion Statue. As he enters the Bakery, his boots make the wood creak softly beneath his weight. He sighs as he leans against a rail, looking about himself.

 

"Lommpy," he mutters to himself, taking out a small map. He had discovered the location of the hidden treefort days before, and now he was on his way to see Aron, hoping to ask for permission to enter the fort for intel. "Great..." he sighs, standing tall. He knew Aron would allow him to go, but... he didn't feel right bothering Aron. The man was old and busy, and Azoth put stress on him that he didn't need.

 

"Perhaps later," he mutters, standing tall and strolling out to leave Kingston. Never again would he forget the day he let his King die under his watch. Never again...

 

... never...

[Avella of Thess 6]

Artie Hightower Elendil had not been to Salvus in a very long time, not as himself, and not as his other identity. Not even after his death. He had been so wrapped up in the family he left behind and his new life he had forgotten his home, his childhood. But news came even accross the distance and Isabella was near enough, he came to the place that had been named after his childhood home.

Salvus was beautiful still, though much had changed. He missed his home dearly, and this orcish disaster was all that was left of what had once been incredible beauty. He ran his fingers over one of the old buildings remains, unable to touch it but he could remember the feel. How he missed this place. Even more so he missed the people who had lived in it. It had been a bustling city once, but time had ruined that, had made it hard and cold and lifeless. If only.

But still, he had not come all this way to look at OS buildings and rough landscape. He was here for an old friend. A dear friend. His father.

Although Aron Bedevere had not been his father by blood, the man had been his world for such a long part of his life, he couldn't imagine growing up without him. Oh how he had tortured the man! Day in and day out he had pestered and toyed with and bossed the man around for years, the prince that he had been grating on his conscience now after the years. And still the man had visited, and wanted to see him, and loved him as if he were Arties father. And he was, more of a father than Arties blood father, who had rejected him.

Artie finally arrived at the place they had buried his father and he settled himself down, not bothering to keep himself invisible. He didn't mind if others saw him here. "Hello, Aron," he began quietly, "I've missed you, more than I could ever explain. More than I ever..." He stopped. Hightowers didn't cry.

"I'm sorry, I can't join you yet. She's still here Aron, and she needs me. I wish I could talk to her but I can't. She's not ready. And until its her time to go, I'll stand with her. So I can't leave now. But i know where you're going. You've done many things you may regret, but you've done too many things to go anywhere but paradise. And I'll join you, soon as I can. With her at my side so I can prove to her there is something beyond," he chuckled, "Little heretic." He looked up at the sky, blinking back more undesirables. "Im sorry I couldn't have been here to... To lead you off.. t-to..."

Artie swallowed, and bent his head. The tears weren't being held back anymore, and he began to shake. "I'll see you, one day. I will see you again... father..."

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

Artie Hightower Elendil had not been to Salvus in a very long time, not as himself, and not as his other identity. Not even after his death. He had been so wrapped up in the family he left behind and his new life he had forgotten his home, his childhood. But news came even accross the distance and Isabella was near enough, he came to the place that had been named after his childhood home.

Salvus was beautiful still, though much had changed. He missed his home dearly, and this orcish disaster was all that was left of what had once been incredible beauty. He ran his fingers over one of the old buildings remains, unable to touch it but he could remember the feel. How he missed this place. Even more so he missed the people who had lived in it. It had been a bustling city once, but time had ruined that, had made it hard and cold and lifeless. If only.

But still, he had not come all this way to look at OS buildings and rough landscape. He was here for an old friend. A dear friend. His father.

Although Aron Bedevere had not been his father by blood, the man had been his world for such a long part of his life, he couldn't imagine growing up without him. Oh how he had tortured the man! Day in and day out he had pestered and toyed with and bossed the man around for years, the prince that he had been grating on his conscience now after the years. And still the man had visited, and wanted to see him, and loved him as if he were Arties father. And he was, more of a father than Arties blood father, who had rejected him.

Artie finally arrived at the place they had buried his father and he settled himself down, not bothering to keep himself invisible. He didn't mind if others saw him here. "Hello, Aron," he began quietly, "I've missed you, more than I could ever explain. More than I ever..." He stopped. Hightowers didn't cry.

"I'm sorry, I can't join you yet. She's still here Aron, and she needs me. I wish I could talk to her but I can't. She's not ready. And until its her time to go, I'll stand with her. So I can't leave now. But i know where you're going. You've done many things you may regret, but you've done too many things to go anywhere but paradise. And I'll join you, soon as I can. With her at my side so I can prove to her there is something beyond," he chuckled, "Little heretic." He looked up at the sky, blinking back more undesirables. "Im sorry I couldn't have been here to... To lead you off.. t-to..."

Artie swallowed, and bent his head. The tears weren't being held back anymore, and he began to shake. "I'll see you, one day. I will see you again... father..."

 

 

Kaelys Kaden Hightower  looks at the man with a dumbfounded expression. "Who the **** are you?"

[Galendar 631]

Benton glares at Kaelys, "Twice a man in comparison to you, boy."

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

Kaelys raises an eyebrow at the other man who suddenly appears. He narrows his eyes before giving his work in progress beard a slight scratch before walking off into the Salvian Mountains to join the other Salvian Mountain men.