CaffeinatedCrow

A Ranaleth of dark hair and amber hues gazes upon the missive with a soft look of understanding. Soon uttering to herself in the confines of a simple room, "I do not blame them for this resignation from us, then again I did not know them personally... let's see what my family shall think on the matter..."

Pale amber hues gaze upon the missive, and in the comforts of some place far from conflict, a dark haired elfess takes a breath and utters to no one but herself, "Let's hope they take this peace, otherwise- I fear the amount of elven blood that must be spilt..."

An adunian finds these writings in Krugmar- of all places to find a writing about five lord'd Gods. She merely looks them over with dulled green eyes, her age visible upon her visage as she merely shakes her head after. "Reminds me of the ramblings of a man I once knew..." She mumbles out, yet soon her attention is caught by another- her focus shifting from the page.

There is suppressed giggles as Liriel just- avoids the manor for the time being. Allowing her family member to calm down for the time being.

“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” The month prior had been filled with so much joy, so much care. A gentleness that made everything so soft. Ambrosine felt like things were going to turn around for her- one way or another. A hope in her heart that she hadn’t felt in a long-long time. That hope would not last long… Blood and screams filled the air in Celia’lin that fateful evening. The sound of horse-hooves clambering upon stone, the sound of flesh being met with a blade- everything had turned so wrong so quickly. An uttered phrase of “Igne’Sae” was made, yet barely did that flame begin to alight. That warmth died just as a new warmth had spread upon her left shoulder. The smell of iron filled the air, the smell of rot as well- no… not rot… Sulfur. It was a suffocating smell- and it carried with her as she had heard the last few words of her Haelun- something she tried to hold onto. “Try and stay alive oem’ii…” Tears couldn’t bring the amount of pleads she wanted to share, how she had thought- “No- please- not again. Not again. Anything but this.” But she was not so fortunate, not like the times before. No comfort would soothe her anymore- not this time, not even the uttered apologies of one of her captors. “Please… live…” She thought to herself, but as she kept her teary eyes shut- she could only remember the faces of those she knew… Aiyeis, her Haelun Erendriel, a trusted friend Elarhil, a longtime llir Seth Calith, a Maln figure Soris, someone she aided and thought of as a friend Alistair, someone she cared too much about Ser Artel, a trusted Alchemy buddy Kendall Cooper, a momentary llir Mare, her teacher and llir Kyl’lian, an old fiance- a man who had her heart Valazaer, even in death- she could never have hated him Her birth Haelun Her birth father Her sister… There were many more, but soon her mind was plagued as the flames of a firepit licked at her skin- her screams filling the night air as her tears felt like boiling licks at her skin. Only did her nerves finally burn away- did her mind have a fragment of clarity- the cheery macabre sound of a woman cheering for her demise- as soon the elfess’ ashes had taken to the skies. A little lizard would watch in silence- now in the presence of someone new- someone darker. Nothing could be done, and nothing could be said. The only hope of a bright soul now burned away, only having a thought that she hoped she was remembered, and that she had finally found love… somewhere in the hearts she left behind. In the night sky- Ambrosine would fine three familiar faces- and she finally... finally, found home. Ambrosine Decebal- Made 535 Days and 22 Hours. Died; Age 132 Born; SA 22

A scowl reaches pale lips, and milky green eyes look over the missive. "How did they...?" The question died upon the woman's lips, and she gave a heavy sigh as she raised a scarred hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "If I had known sooner..." With that she sets the missive aside and offers a small prayer for the safety of Sir Leopold's Family and his Wife.

Milky green eyes awaken to a new day, and another missive. Slumped in a chair she picks up the parchment with scarred fingers. The other appendage rubbing at her dusty temple as she mulls over the intricacies of the missive. "Wonderful... more 'teethers' to look out for..." She utters in dull, exasperated tones. However, she is not distasteful of the idea to perhaps guide those who have found banishment from their homes. But there's a bitter resentment, and she can only hope this all does not end in one giant blood bath of cursed sanguine essence.

Milky gray eyes looked over the missive, and there's a scowl written upon pallid features. "I told him he was stupid..." A baritone voice mutters to herself, before she tosses the missive into a nearby fire. "Ancestors help us, or help me not kill my son myself..."

A familiar red-headed elfess would almost giggle a bit as she read the gazette, her violet eyes looking it over as her and her Pygmy Lizard- Devos- both read over the paper, "The Matchmaker section is highly amusing... I wonder if something will come out of it... Well- praise be the lucky ones." Ambros would muse lightly, her tone light and still filled with chuckles as she would soon gently move to rest her companion on her desk; her companion skittering off to hide in what little jewelry she had lying about next to her candles, before she moved to get ready for bed. A hum on her lips, and a smile to her face.

Three Souls would mourn, Three Souls would ache in the loss of a man they each had known in different manners. An Adunian, carving away at a piece of oak she had in her scarred hands, seems to feel her soul have a moment of respite. Her tired eyes, and healing limbs seemed to ease their tension, as her eyelids shut and her shoulders sagged. There was no thought to this moment of repose, no real reason, but for that short time, a weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders. It was a relief she had not felt in some time, and perhaps that made her all the more wary. She had let her eyes open, scanning throughout her room as if expecting some outside source of this unknown alleviation- but there was no one. With that, she turned her emerald hues back to her carving, and let her tension return as the oak shaped into the form of something familiar, something known. A Wolf, with a calm disposition, standing tall and almost foreboding. Deeper in the afterlife, someone old- someone long since passed- seemed to feel their soul have a relieved ache. It was the kind that seemed to either feel relief and sadness all the same. Glowing gold eyes seemed to look around her, a darkness that was never ending in her own Hell- her hair flailing about like flames as she inhaled a breathless wind. Nothing was around, as she had expected, and even then she was grateful in some odd way. The woman’s Hell was her own, and even if she had thought to see another soul, she was glad she didn’t. Her form shifted, never there but never gone, and she seemed to shut those eyes as she let that moment of reprieve flood through her soul- for that was all was left of her. Before she eased away into nothingness- like a flame snuffed out. A little red-headed Elfess seemed to go about her day, cleaning her home and sipping some tea. Perhaps even conjuring up some alchemical concoctions she had hopes to make. Though soon something bitter resided in her chest. A moment of aching sadness that she couldn’t quite place, it was odd- but not uncommon. Memories were not kind to her, but even then she caught herself remembering an old face, one she hadn’t seen in a long time. Such was the norm to her unfortunately, and she let out a somber sigh. Perhaps one day she’d meet that gruff figure, who had read her like an open book, but thus was wishful thinking. Her head too far into the clouds, and unaware of the passing of someone she had met twice before- each with different faces- each with different interactions. With her heart aching for faces she had hoped to see again, but never did, she continued her day. A little less of a skip in her step, and her ears down-turned in that melancholic way. (R.i.p. A real one.)

A familiarly red-head Elfess, Ambrosine Decebal, seems to take the time to read over the paper. Enjoyment is plastered upon her features about the general gossip and information provided, yet it's mostly amusement with the occasional surprise. Albeit, a slight wince is made at the notion of a once dear friend, if not more at one point. She merely shakes her head before folding the paper carefully and continuing to sip at her tea in her home.

The adunian, now standing upon the docks of Celia'nor where the funeral took place, seemed to give a heavy sigh. She watched the ship that held Fritjof's body drift out in a burning inferno. A cross in one hand, and a letter in another. There was still a heavy somberness, yet she soon smiled as tears finally wept when the docks had been cleared. "May you finally find rest now...fy nghariad digyfyngiad..." With those last words muttered, she would slowly move off from the docks. Her heart heavy, yet her mind clear in knowing the man she had cared for was now at peace.

Green hues would stare in silent horror at the missive, the memories going through her mind as her lips started to quiver. The rush of tears going to her eyes as she starts to crumble the missive in her armored fingers. There's a deep sadness in her, and the memory of Fritjof and her sitting by a window- wishing the safety of one another. The memories of when she first met him, the Confession, it all goes to her mind. A sob breaks through her lips, and she pulls the missive close to herself as she sobs. The sadness of the woman who had already lost a lot, now losing another. It makes her hands shake, it makes her heart ache, and her eyes flooding with tears. She soon screams, the sound deep, painful and in agony- much like the scream she had emitted for Ailsa, much like the pain she felt when she had thought she had sent Fritjof to his death. Only this time, he was really gone. The adunian of ashen hair, and scarred hands, cried out to the sky as she kneels with that missive pulled to her chest. Her tears falling to the earth as she lets the pain out. "Please- Please! No....not another...please....spirits....ancestors...please.....no...." Her words go unheard, and she could only cry and hold the missive close, a deep hole in her chest as she sobs and soon bends herself down to the earth, her forehead resting there as she sobs heavily- her shoulders shaking with that deep pain of another loss. Another life, another Friend, gone.

Gift Slip Name: Ambrosine Decebal Username: CaffienatedCrow

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.

It was a day like any other- a day that was calm and quiet. Basha was merely observing a spar before her Raven returned with a piece of parchment. Without any worry, she had hoped it was just a returning letter she had sent hours prior. She did not expect it to be a letter of Death, and especially not the death of someone she had come to know so dearly. The woman could only run- run to where she had prayed for Her Safety. Upon reaching the old throne room of Cartref Mor- she threw down that parchment and cried out, "WHAT IS THIS?! I BEGGED- PLEADED- BLED FOR YOU TO PROTECT HER!" She screamed into that empty throne room, yelling at what she hoped was the ancestors she prayed to prior before the news, "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER-!" Basha sobbed out, falling to her knees as her armored hands clutched at the fabric to her chest. Heavy sobs escaped her form as she cried deeply. "She was my only reason....my only link.." With that, the Adunian would just kneel there in that empty space- with crossed out faces and burned portraits, she cried until her voice was near gone. Crying for a friend, a sisterly figure- and unbeknownst to her- her Great Niece.

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.