CaffeinatedCrow

Upon the note arriving, Basha was simply carving a piece of dark wood. A task she found comfort in despite the many small cuts along her fingers she had gained. There was only a discernible look of sorrow upon her face as she read the otherwise simple message. To how many she would lose, she could not discern, but it still broke her heart nonetheless. "I remember...when you were just a boy...may you find rest Alucard, and I'm sorry we could not share one last talk..." With that said, she continued her carving- only one tear shed for a boy she saw grow up far too fast- and fall far too soon.

With another successful herb trip, Ambrosine did not expect to witness such an announcement. The elfess' brow furrowing as she read the missive, before softly sighing and shaking her head. The redhead merely returning to her home.

For once- A bright smile would fade. Heavy tears taking hold upon the face of Basha, who had only known Plume as the sweet little Epiphyte who had a heart of gold. The gray-haired woman would find herself in tears, kneeling upon the floor and crying for the loss of someone she cared for dearly. A hand clutched to her heart as silent sobs fell past her lips. She stayed there for a long while- just mourning the loss of a dear friend- HER Best Friend.

A soft sigh was made at the missive, violet eyes looking over the description one more time. "What did you get yourself into..." Ambrosine would mutter underneath her breath. However, she would have to deal with such matters at a later date- she was too far gone in her travels to find the closest aviary and send a message.

A redheaded High elf groans in exasperation as she reads the missive. "This is becoming a bit tiresome- what good is a 'threat' if one doesn't act on it? This 'war' is nothing but an elaborate hoax. Celia'nor may be a pretty little place, yet now I see it's cowardly shadow and the claws that which to drag the innocent down with it."

"Sometimes a Flower is just a Flower, and The best thing It can Do for Us is to Die." ~Tissaia De Veris Warning; Triggering Scene/Theme- Proceed with Caution. All was silent behind the mountains of Urguan. To the small forming town of Huaven, a returning 'Ghost' appeared- riding a White Stead instead of her fallen Black Stead. She hummed a tune as she would dismount and enter her old home. Fond memories of what used to be her life flashed before her- A loving Fiance, two beautiful daughters, and a home filled with pets. Undoing the bandage upon her eyes- she lets her Golem eyes look upon her empty home. A somber expression befalling her as she sighed to herself. Rain had started to fall outside her house- "What a beautiful tragedy..." She croaked- voice now aged with time. A small chuckle escaped, and she would quietly empty her satchel. The book and quill her last items to be brought into her hands, and items she would use as she made one last note- one last page. "To those that find me in my home- Let it be known I was once a woman of strong faith and courage. I am now but merely a shell of what I once was. Let my body be burned or let it be buried, yet let it not be looked upon in sadness. I was too weak to continue, and even weaker to face anyone I left behind. However, know I loved you all, and know I am sorry. Please- Forgive me. I loved you, and I will forever continue to love you. Now with me and my feathered friend- we shall see those that have passed, and perhaps find peace once more. I love you all Take care- Sincerely, Meredith Nazenna Horisp." A small, yet weak, squawk was made from Gaelach- the Raven that had lived alongside Meredith from the near beginning. The woman smiled softly to the avian, "We shall find peace once more- my friend..." The avian merely hopped towards Meredith, and would rest in her lap. The woman gently petting the bird as she kneeled in the middle of her bedroom. "We'll see Sergai...Anika....and so many more once again Gaelach...Perhaps even Grandmother and my mother..." Meredith says softly, before grabbing her MasterCraft Cane and twisting. This revealed two Rapier-Like swords. Setting one down, she brought the other up- aiming the tip of her sword to her heart as bloody tears ran down her face. "May we be with the earth...and let our souls be free..." Meredith retorts, yet before she could pierce her own heart- another presence grabs the sword in kind, and would push the sword into her chest for her... Meredith Nazenna Horisp; Born; FA 1789 (April 5th, 2021) Died; SA 64 (February 22nd, 2022)(Age 71) Any animals Meredith owned would run free- going back to the forests- Gaelach the Raven would rest upon her master's lap, for now the two would find their final rest together once and for all. (Should you want the Screowl and/or Arctic wolf- DM me on my discord- you must have known Meredith however.) Author's Note; Meredith was a character I had for a long time- she was my second character and one with the most development out of all my characters. I loved her deeply, she was growing old, and her story was quite readily over. I hope that to those that interacted with her will tell her story- for I stupidly made a book and didn't make copies lmfao. Point is, I hope she was a character many could remember. I loved her, and I think it is time to let her rest.

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Word spreads fast in times of strife, that was no different for Meredith. Only a numbness was felt as she heard the news, yet behind closed doors she wept. Those she had thought would live much longer than her were dropping like flies. The pain was heavy, for she remembered old days with tea and bear-hugs, now all that is left is bloody tears and hollow hearts. "Rest well...mo chara." She utters to the wind.

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There was quiet in the Horisp home. The missive had been brought to Talons, and now golden armored fingers gripped the paper tight. There was a look of grief on the woman's face, and she couldn't help the shaking in her hands as she took shakey breaths. Kallian was once a dear friend of hers, and to hear of his death struck her deeper than any knife. "I pray...you have found peace...mo chara."

A gentle bump was given to the half-orc's head with the woman's own, and the ginger lass would sigh as she says, "We will never let that happen to our wee one, I promise that much mo ghra." She would then watch the small interaction between her half-orc partner, and the grandchild of the Sarosa family. The tall woman soon joining in on the hug as she gives a gentle squeeze to them both.

The Fall of Kind Hands & A Strong Soul Listen for Added effect The day had been like any other, and yet, the snowy hills seemed restless as the winds twisted and turned dark dreadlocks in their wake. The bear cloak, which laid upon green shoulders, was nearly snatched by such winds, yet golden eyes kept searching for their prize. The axe in hand glittered in what sunlight was seen, and the grip was only made tighter as dark shadows were brought forward. There was more than what was expected, yet the form of an orc stood tall and ready. The tall shadows in the snowstorm surrounded the orc, and snarls of wolf-like nature cut their way past the screaming of the wind in her ears. The feorc would return the snarling with her own, and as the bear claw around her neck swayed with the wind, she would take strength from such and watched as the shadows moved closer. One after the other, each form would charge, and the feorc would swing her axe. These creatures were bigger than any bear she had fought, yet they were familiar foes she had faced a time long ago. With heavy breaths, and her strength waning, the snow would be stained with blood. The crimson stains a sign of the orc's resistance as she kept swinging. There were too many however, and as she missed one more swing, old scars would be reopened, and the feorc would fall to her knees. With no help in sight, all the feorc could do was try and stand once more. With the axe as her support, golden eyes would stare upon the leather braided ring; with silver that laced with it. The wedding ring her mate had given her. With her other soon raising to grasp at the bear claw she had with the engravings of her old mate's name. The feorc would find strength once more to stand and keep on fighting. Memories of old, with thoughts of those she had cared for and cherished, ran through her head. She pushed to fight, and to live for them. The flash of a small goblin cook, the flash of an old, blue, rex; the flash of a grey orc with red eyes, the flash of a half-breed orc, a shaman, and the flash of Krugmar. The flash of Elysium, with a Duke, a wood elf with gold eyes, and a wood elf with green, and the flash of small kubs. All of this, had kept the feorc fighting, and yet.... It wasn't enough. The splatter of blood and a groan was made from the feorc, before she would fall back down to her knees. A hand would raise to her open stomach, and with blood spilt, the figures would depart. Bruised and battered is how the feorc was left, and deep wounds would send her form gently falling to the snow. The white, cold, yet soft, feeling underneath herself was soon drenched in a deep crimson red. A cough would be heard, and as her bloodied axe lay beside her, she would let these memories of old start to consume her. Memories of Old Krugmar and of Elysium. From the Orcs she called brothers and sisters, to the Elves and Humans she called friends. A muttered apology was given to the screaming winds, "Mi beh zorry...it iz...mi tik..." Yet through the snow, help did come. The sounds of hurriedly crunching snow was heard through the calming winds, and the sight of a familiar Wood Elf would be seen. As the feorc would begin to take her last breaths, Songs would turn her head to look at Nesrin, her wife, her lifemate, running towards her. Her mouth appeared to be screaming, her mouth open and face full of agony. However, the feorc couldn't hear her too clearly, as she was already in the grasp of death's hands, and being pulled slowly towards the darkness. She gave her lover a gentle, yet strangely sad smile, as she felt the rough texture of Nesrin's hand. She knew she could be at rest, happy to die in her wife's arms. The orc was finally put to rest, and Songs Jhet-Krask Sarosa, was now in the skies. A loving mother, a kind friend, and a gentle lover. Long may she live within our hearts. Songs Jhet-Krask Sarosa Born FA 1787-SA 49 (Died at Age 58)

Meredith smiles softly as she sees the missive, and with a soft sigh she would gently tuck away the invitation away. "I hope you can forgive me my friends, for I won't be able to stand in your light. Perhaps another day when I am free from my banishment." She mutters to herself, before returning to seek her lover's embrace.

Songs Jhet-Krask gazes upon the missing poster of her other mate. A sad expression was plastered upon her countenance as she sighs, "We will fynd lat luv, mi promize. Juzt cohm bak tu uz zoon.." With that, Songs turns and leaves to gather her axe and bow, ready to search with her other mate; Nesrin Sarosa, for their other lover.

[!]A familiar black cat by the name of Sergai wanders about Elysium, meowing up a storm. To those that know the cat will know the feline would usually be accompanied by a familiar red head, but that red head was nowhere to be found.

Songs looked upon the golden statue of the Rex, a smile on her face as she would hit her chest with the side of her fist. "May Deh zpiritz gyde lat Zhot. Agh may we peep eechothur ahgayn ihn Deh Zpirit Rehlm. Rezt eazy mi friend." A single tear rolled down her cheek as she sighed softly.