Allien

MC Name: Allien_ Discord: alienvader Image: Description of Image: Store flyer for Barclay Bargains Dimensions: 1x2 (1 width 2 height)

Nero rode back to his barn, snatching papers up from a passerby along the way. On his way home he read the news and decided he'd prepare a gift to soon deliver, but what to give, he wondered.

MC Name: Allien_ Discord: Allien#4524 Image: Description of Image: For a poster in celianor for diraar Dimensions: 1 wide 2 high 1x2

MC Name: Allien_ Discord: Allien#4524 Image: Description of Image: For a poster in celianor Dimensions: 1 wide 2 high 1x2

"Most trusted? I'd beg to differ" Siria scowled, tossing the tribune aside, carrying on with plans of reconstructing the Py'lrie estate.

"He wasn't exactly good at hiding it.." Siria jests aloud to herself, shifting her gaze from the tribune to look towards the 6,912 tulips he sent her...

MC Name: Allien_ Discord: Allien#4524 Image: Description of Image: My family's sigil in game for the Py'lrie family. I hoping to have map art of it to place above our estate entrance and/or shop Dimensions: 1x1

Siria Py'lrie sits with her morning tea while picking up the newspaper, only glancing through it before her daughter's scream echoed from one end of the estate and wondering what for, until... The elfess peered at the relations written between her daughter, Linnea, and the Maeyr'onn boy in the article "LINNEA!" She shouted from the lounge

Brows furrowing at the sight of the invitation, Serigne Py'lrie immediately, after reading through the supposed wedding announcement, saught out for a quill and note parchment to send the young Py'lrie a letter. The elderly elfess was visibly frustrated before the other members of the household, the invitation was then passed around.

Rosina Py’lrie Birth: 16th • Sun’s Smile • 37 of the Second Age Death: 20th • Snow’s Maiden • 108 of the Second Age A portrait of Rosina Py’lrie not too long before her death. It has come again that time when we will all grieve the loss of a very loved individual within the Talonii. As all those before her, she will never be forgotten. Very young, Rosina was taken from us. Her kind soul will not only be missed by those within the Py’lrie, but by all those she put before herself, caring for and protecting. In her lifetime, Rosina suffered greatly from the days of her birth to her last breath. Born missing a leg, but always on the move, studying at a very young age, and becoming the physician and surgeon we all knew and loved. Her kind nature inspired others within the Talonii to take up studying medicine. For that, and many other achievements, we’re all grateful and we won’t allow anything to become forgotten or underappreciated in any way. Many Py’lrie from here on will know her story, they will learn to thrive even when they suffer, sharing their own stories someday, so that we all continue to improve our lives and our very soul. Even in death she will continue to aid us, as her very existence, her experiences, good and bad, will help guide others in their own lives. As tradition entails, the Py’lrie will begin a period of mourning for Rosina. For seven elven days from now we will mourn her death, lighting a candle within both the estate and the clinic, until the seventh day. Our meals will only consist of that in which she loved, our time spent together and our arms open to anyone for comfort. Rosina Py’lrie departed the city of Fi’andria, capital of Celia’nor on the 20th of Snow’s Maiden, 108 of the Second Age. She departed with a mali’ker figure that day, as a young boy described, before the same figure soon left our precious Rosina in front of the gates. No further detail of her condition will be stated here. She prepared a will for us long before her death. All of her wishes will be stated at her funeral. We ask that you bring a candle to the funeral so we, the Py’lrie, may continue a tradition of ours. The funeral will take place at Celia’nor docks 9th of The First Seed, 109 SA [OOC: Saturday 31st @ 4pm EST] [Rosina’s will]

20th of Snow’s Maiden, 108 of the Second Age… With only the pale glow of the moon to illuminate it, Rosina Py’lrie’s body seemed almost peaceful as it was laid before the gates. As a small crowd gathered about, the horrors of what had happened to the woman became more evident. Few had seen the silhouette of the figure that had dropped the woman’s body at the gates- a dark shroud, some said, that left a lingering chill as it slowly departed. The tone it spoke was ice to the skin of those who heard it, for it was flat and devoid of any care or regard for the poor victim’s life. None had a hint of a clue, but all agreed that had they lifted the hood, they would have seen Death herself. It must have been the cruel mistress herself to take Rosina’s life, but that did not stop further speculation as to whom it may have been. Those who looked first at the flayed patch of her arm claimed it was the work of an upstart cult. Two wandering humans came and felt the body: cold, drenched, clearly drowned. The work of highway robbers. Another citizen pointed out the jewelry- rings, necklaces, bands- stuffed in her mouth and surmised that the work was done by a blood magician. A thousand signs, each contradicting the last, gave rise to more and more theories, even as the body was finally lifted and brought to the clinic. Disemboweled. A common criminal? A gaping chest wound revealing a missing heart. A witch in need of ingredients for a spell? Her head had suffered some trauma. A falling rock? Other cuts, bruises, and wounds. Well, the forests were always dangerous at night. Perhaps it was an animal? These thoughts, and more, doubtless bounced throughout Valyris Wynasul’s mind as she cleaned the poor woman’s body, giving it the dignity that she had been robbed of in death. The specter that had dropped the body off at the gates seemed to unsettle everyone. Was it that figure that did the deed? A young boy had claimed to see a mali’ker woman suspiciously lingering about, claiming to look for a medic, but also giving a cold look to any who passed by. Could she have lured out Rosina, knowing her to be obligated to aid her? Who could be capable of such a horrible act? The moon of midnight rose high above the towers of Fi’andria, but that mattered little to Rosina Py’lrie. As Head Physician of Celia'nor, it was her duty to attend to all who needed help, and tonight a call for aid prompted her to take to her horse and make her way down to the lake just outside the city. It was a mali’ker woman with shining blue eyes who had begged her for help, but, oddly, as the two rode through the endless apple orchard down to the banks of the lake, the woman was silent. Was it shock, perhaps? Rosina had no time to care, though, such things were not for her to question. When they finally reached the scene, all but the injury itself seemed almost peculiar to Rosina. Two figures were near the banks of the lake, both difficult to make out in the darkness. The first was a woman with brown hair who was sitting just beside the waters. She spoke calmly enough and told Rosina that she had been hurt in a fall. She pointed to her foot, which was bleeding, but not so horribly that it could not be fixed quickly. Beside her, though, was a thing that the medic could not make out. At one moment it was a dim orb, the next it was a dark haze, but as it hovered beside the injured woman Rosina could not help but feel a sense of dread. Rosina tried to allay these pervasive thoughts as she reached into her medical bag and looked through it for some basic ointment and bandages to clean the wound. However, when she reached over to examine the woman’s food, she could not help but notice it was remarkably… fine. Although there was blood, there was no cut, wound, not even the mildest of scratches. Far from a fall, this woman had not suffered at all. There was no sign of a fracture, a sprain, or anything like that. Rosina was about to glance up to the woman and ask her what had truly happened when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw an outstretched arm spring up. It was the shade- too quick to give her even a moment to react. Nary a thought crossed her mind as an orb, this time it was surely an orb, shot forth from the thing’s hand and struck her across the head. She fell to the ground, limp, knocked out, as the three who had brought her there slowly surrounded her unconscious figure. The shadowy figure took charge, dragging the woman’s body towards the lake. As it did so, it rummaged through her pockets, taking every valuable and stuffing them into her mouth. The mali’ker woman pointed to the body. “Her heart.” The shadow nodded, then pushed down the body into the lake. It waited for a few long moments, until the air bubbles stopped rising to the surface. “Then I desire the body.” It spoke, its voice soft, yet devoid of passion. “No. We leave it at the gates,” ordered the dark elf. She spoke with authority, and the shade relented, though not without further comment. The payment for their role would be higher, and a ‘Mother’ would have to be spoken to. It was not as if Rosina could hear them. Drowned and beaten, the life within her had been extinguished minutes ago. The only small mercy she received that night was, as the mali’ker plunged a dagger into her chest, she was unable to feel her heart being torn from her. The deed was done, and her body was dragged back onto the horse and spirited away to the front gates of the city, to be left behind for her kin. Another small mercy given to her that night, it seemed.

Police are usually shocked that I have a record

Serigne Py'lrie began to read through the missive, then once more. Her fingers pinched the missive firmly as she read, sighing heavily. Walking through the estate, the elderly elfess pinned within the family lounge, displaying it just as you walk through the doorway, so any Py'lrie member may see.

Serigne Py’lrie sits in her office writing many separate letters. Each letter sent to individual members of her Talonii who wandered the realm, alerting them of the troubles approaching. "Be safe.." The elderly Py'lrie muttered to herself before continuing her work.