From: tinytopaz@aol.com (TinyTopaz)
Date: 05 Jan 2000 01:06:36 EST
A note is tacked in a prominent place upon the cork. Obviously not written by Topaz herself, but the signature is genuine as well as the seal upon the black wax at the bottom of the note.
Dexter Montoya fell victim to a fatal carriage accident this eve shortly after midnight. You are welcome to visitation at the Beacon. Information concerning funeral service will be forthcoming.
Topaz
Upon arriving at the Beacon, if you so choose, you will find Dex's body layed up in state in the entry hall. Mirrors have been removed or have been blackened, the flags outside have been lowered to half mast. Only if one looks very closely can one see the damage the carriage wheels had made to Dex's head. ((There's always at least 2 people (read: honor guard) in the hall with Dex, pc or npc))
Death Notice (Dexter Montoya)
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From: ianmackenzie@aol.com (Ian MacKenzie)
Date: 05 Jan 2000 14:30:24 EST
Accompanied by his personal guards, Ian visited the Beacon by dawn twilight.
Wordlessly, he passed within, saluting the honor guard, and approached the bier. He lowered his head, closing his eyes for a moment, before placing a golden dragon epaulet upon Dex's shoulder.
For one whose personal loyalty to him had been an instruction in humility, the monarch of New Caithness had no words. There were none he could offer the dead. After a few moments, he turned, drawing a breath, and departed, with another silent salute to the honor guard before his own followed him out.
Date: 05 Jan 2000 14:30:24 EST
Accompanied by his personal guards, Ian visited the Beacon by dawn twilight.
Wordlessly, he passed within, saluting the honor guard, and approached the bier. He lowered his head, closing his eyes for a moment, before placing a golden dragon epaulet upon Dex's shoulder.
For one whose personal loyalty to him had been an instruction in humility, the monarch of New Caithness had no words. There were none he could offer the dead. After a few moments, he turned, drawing a breath, and departed, with another silent salute to the honor guard before his own followed him out.
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From: unagim@aol.com (Unagi M)
Date: 05 Jan 2000 16:29:18 EST
Such a shame. A shogun of the realm dying in an accident. Miyamoto Unagi came to pay his respects.
A small jade statuette of a Shinto deity and a bloody thumbprint left at the side of the bier.
"Sumimasen, shogun Montoya-san. I wish for you safe passage to such p'race as your gods ho'rd for warriors of such great stature."
Date: 05 Jan 2000 16:29:18 EST
Such a shame. A shogun of the realm dying in an accident. Miyamoto Unagi came to pay his respects.
A small jade statuette of a Shinto deity and a bloody thumbprint left at the side of the bier.
"Sumimasen, shogun Montoya-san. I wish for you safe passage to such p'race as your gods ho'rd for warriors of such great stature."
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From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 00:12:23 EST
He gives the slightest inclination of his head as he passes the guards en route to the casket. The hood of his cloak remains low over his eyes as he moves. The sound of his footsteps breaks the eerie silence in his approach. No words are drawn to his lips as he gazes upon the figure. For long moments he draws heavy breaths, then after a long delay he turns, a passive lift of his arm denotes his departure to
the guards, one thing for certain, Dexter Montoya will be remembered well...
Date: 06 Jan 2000 00:12:23 EST
He gives the slightest inclination of his head as he passes the guards en route to the casket. The hood of his cloak remains low over his eyes as he moves. The sound of his footsteps breaks the eerie silence in his approach. No words are drawn to his lips as he gazes upon the figure. For long moments he draws heavy breaths, then after a long delay he turns, a passive lift of his arm denotes his departure to
the guards, one thing for certain, Dexter Montoya will be remembered well...
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From: maritdrgnsblade@aol.com (Marit Drgnsblade)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 01:31:24 EST
Marit arrived at the Beacon to pay her respects to Dexter Montoya, a friend. She would never forget how he welcomed her four years back (Rhydin time) when she first ranked as Warlady. He had always been respectful and kind. She had admired his loyalties to his family. She had admired his honor and skills in the duels. He would always hold a place in her heart.
She bowed her head, meditated for a short bit, then left as quietly as she had arrived.
Date: 06 Jan 2000 01:31:24 EST
Marit arrived at the Beacon to pay her respects to Dexter Montoya, a friend. She would never forget how he welcomed her four years back (Rhydin time) when she first ranked as Warlady. He had always been respectful and kind. She had admired his loyalties to his family. She had admired his honor and skills in the duels. He would always hold a place in her heart.
She bowed her head, meditated for a short bit, then left as quietly as she had arrived.
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From: dreystarke@aol.com (DreyStarke)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 15:46:01 EST
His eyes beared a sort of swirling depth. He trudged soundly past the guards, and into the room where the body lied. His emotions were calm, for he didn't know the man all too well but had his times. Drey simply halted, and stared downward. He mused thoughtfully, his fingers splayed and wrapped around the hilt of his blade absently, fingering it.
Green depths continued their roaming, and the corners of his lips tugged heavenwards in what seemed a slilghted smile. A white rose lifted from an interior pocket, and then the stem slid beneath his nose until the petals touched. He took a brief sniff of the fragrance, and his lips pursed in a tight embrace. He tossed it in one of his casual motions and it then landed atop the man's chest. He framed his face for a good viewing, and tucked the
mental picture away in that sealed door which enclosed so much.
Past deaths flashing through him, and his eyes turned half closed. He could swear his heart skipped a beat. His eyes fluttered and flickered before he retreated in a cruel headache. Fingers trembling.
His habitual behavior prevailed as he revealed a cigarette, slipping past the guards. He moved out; not at all pleased.
Date: 06 Jan 2000 15:46:01 EST
His eyes beared a sort of swirling depth. He trudged soundly past the guards, and into the room where the body lied. His emotions were calm, for he didn't know the man all too well but had his times. Drey simply halted, and stared downward. He mused thoughtfully, his fingers splayed and wrapped around the hilt of his blade absently, fingering it.
Green depths continued their roaming, and the corners of his lips tugged heavenwards in what seemed a slilghted smile. A white rose lifted from an interior pocket, and then the stem slid beneath his nose until the petals touched. He took a brief sniff of the fragrance, and his lips pursed in a tight embrace. He tossed it in one of his casual motions and it then landed atop the man's chest. He framed his face for a good viewing, and tucked the
mental picture away in that sealed door which enclosed so much.
Past deaths flashing through him, and his eyes turned half closed. He could swear his heart skipped a beat. His eyes fluttered and flickered before he retreated in a cruel headache. Fingers trembling.
His habitual behavior prevailed as he revealed a cigarette, slipping past the guards. He moved out; not at all pleased.
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From: aisiainuz@aol.com (AisIain Uz)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 16:05:45 EST
An elegant coach with four matching roans in black livery draws up before the Beacon and a somber footman leaps down to open the door. Out steps Monsieur Connard, dressed in a simple black waistcoat and a starched cravat without lace or ruffles. He reaches a hand into the coach as if to offer assistance and, after a brief moment, reaches both hands in to lift a small child to the ground. An uneaten honey cake tumbles
from her skirts to the cobble stones, yet he does not rebuke Aislain Dulce Uziel. He would take it up with her later. Instead, he glances to the silent footman. The servant falls to one knee producing a small brush to sweep away any crumbs from the child's skirt, and then scoops up the offending piece of trash on the ground.
Connard surveys Aislain quickly, and notes that she is the height of fashionable mourning. Her long dark red curls, usually loose and free to the chagrin of Ellen who must comb them into a braid each night, were pulled back from her face and tucked in a black net snood without a single unruly tendril evident The simple lavender wool dress fell without wrinkle or blemish from her white linen collar to the tips of her gray leather boots. Her pearl
gray gloved hands clutched a small nosegay of yellow roses plucked by a cooperative gardener from the green house at the Oakenshield estates. Her expression could not have been more picturesque; the large dark circles under her eyes her only expression. Of course her expression was the only piece of mourning not dictated by Monsieur Connard. It had set itself appropriately upon her face when the rider had informed them of Condextint Montoya's
untimely death. No crying, no unseemly hysterics, just soft gasps and then silence.
Monsieur Connard sighed, mourning was such a sticky tangle of etiquette and having charge of Duke Uziel's daughter, former Baron of the DoS and the infamous Morte Dulce created a more tangled knot. Furthermore, Aislain was the niece of Condextint Montoya, Baron of the 12th, 31st Overlord and Former Holder of the 8th Barons Ring of DoS, 13th Diamond and Former Holder of the Yellow Opal of DoF, Former Archmage (Mage Emeritus) of DoM.. It was no help
that she was now the ward of the Lord and Lady Oakenshield. He was doing his best to assure that she would speak well of her family and breeding. So far so good, let her view the body and then send a small note to the funeral. Such an event was best if children were not allowed to mar the pomp and circumstances of the ceremony.
Without further ado, he tucked her tiny hand into his elbow and led her into the Beacon. They halted before the remains of Dexter Montoya; and Connard tensed himself while quietly willing Ellen or some womanish sort here in his stead. When they had suggested he accompany Aislain here this morning he had protested. Surely her guardians, the Baron or Baroness would be better suited. Yet, they had even yet to respond to the courier sent to them
somewhere in the far reaches of the islands. Who knows if they would make it back in time?
So all eyes and hands had turned upon him. Had he not been directing everything, for the appropriate mirrors to be covered as to the cut and style of Ais' wardrobe for the next six weeks? Had he not drawn up long lists of protocol and a whole new schedule of appropriate activities for the child? Therefore, Ellen the head housekeeper had decreed, he should accompany the little doll to her Uncle's lying in state. Afterwards Connard, was certain,
Ellen was planning to tuck her little chick into bed and feed her nothing but sweetened goats milk and honey cake until color came back into her face.
Connard began to panic, what if everything went wrong now? What if Ais were to become hysterical, cry and scream? What would the honor guard think? What would the community conclude of such unseemly behavior? To his utter relief, the child just stood stoically at his side, gazing at her fallen Uncle as if he were a statue or some strange work of art she had been brought to further her education.
Ais' lips parted, but she did not utter a word for a moment. Connard steeled himself for something shamefully inappropriate.
"All the world's a stage," she began to quote in a lilting voice, "And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts. Tonton Dex, Aislain misses you, and she promises to remember its all right to be scared sometimes, and its all right to even cry."
Before Connard could stop her, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Montoya on the uninjured cheek laying the small nosegay of yellow roses and a crumpled dirty paper crown beside his sword arm. Then, without a warning, she let out a huge wail that echoed off the darkened mirrors and shattered the peace of the dead. Crumpling against Connard she took to howling in earnest: huge tears spilling down her cheeks as she slid her arms around his neck and hid
her face from the world. The foppish tutor scooped her up, and for the first time in all the years he had been guiding her, he held her close.
The child released her grief in huge racking sobs. She cried for Tonton Dex; cried because people died and did not come back; cried because she was scared; but most of all, she cried because Tonton Dex told her one scary day that it was all right to cry.
Monsieur Connard turned without looking at the Honor Guard, no shame in his face as he carried the child home to the safety of her bed.
Date: 06 Jan 2000 16:05:45 EST
An elegant coach with four matching roans in black livery draws up before the Beacon and a somber footman leaps down to open the door. Out steps Monsieur Connard, dressed in a simple black waistcoat and a starched cravat without lace or ruffles. He reaches a hand into the coach as if to offer assistance and, after a brief moment, reaches both hands in to lift a small child to the ground. An uneaten honey cake tumbles
from her skirts to the cobble stones, yet he does not rebuke Aislain Dulce Uziel. He would take it up with her later. Instead, he glances to the silent footman. The servant falls to one knee producing a small brush to sweep away any crumbs from the child's skirt, and then scoops up the offending piece of trash on the ground.
Connard surveys Aislain quickly, and notes that she is the height of fashionable mourning. Her long dark red curls, usually loose and free to the chagrin of Ellen who must comb them into a braid each night, were pulled back from her face and tucked in a black net snood without a single unruly tendril evident The simple lavender wool dress fell without wrinkle or blemish from her white linen collar to the tips of her gray leather boots. Her pearl
gray gloved hands clutched a small nosegay of yellow roses plucked by a cooperative gardener from the green house at the Oakenshield estates. Her expression could not have been more picturesque; the large dark circles under her eyes her only expression. Of course her expression was the only piece of mourning not dictated by Monsieur Connard. It had set itself appropriately upon her face when the rider had informed them of Condextint Montoya's
untimely death. No crying, no unseemly hysterics, just soft gasps and then silence.
Monsieur Connard sighed, mourning was such a sticky tangle of etiquette and having charge of Duke Uziel's daughter, former Baron of the DoS and the infamous Morte Dulce created a more tangled knot. Furthermore, Aislain was the niece of Condextint Montoya, Baron of the 12th, 31st Overlord and Former Holder of the 8th Barons Ring of DoS, 13th Diamond and Former Holder of the Yellow Opal of DoF, Former Archmage (Mage Emeritus) of DoM.. It was no help
that she was now the ward of the Lord and Lady Oakenshield. He was doing his best to assure that she would speak well of her family and breeding. So far so good, let her view the body and then send a small note to the funeral. Such an event was best if children were not allowed to mar the pomp and circumstances of the ceremony.
Without further ado, he tucked her tiny hand into his elbow and led her into the Beacon. They halted before the remains of Dexter Montoya; and Connard tensed himself while quietly willing Ellen or some womanish sort here in his stead. When they had suggested he accompany Aislain here this morning he had protested. Surely her guardians, the Baron or Baroness would be better suited. Yet, they had even yet to respond to the courier sent to them
somewhere in the far reaches of the islands. Who knows if they would make it back in time?
So all eyes and hands had turned upon him. Had he not been directing everything, for the appropriate mirrors to be covered as to the cut and style of Ais' wardrobe for the next six weeks? Had he not drawn up long lists of protocol and a whole new schedule of appropriate activities for the child? Therefore, Ellen the head housekeeper had decreed, he should accompany the little doll to her Uncle's lying in state. Afterwards Connard, was certain,
Ellen was planning to tuck her little chick into bed and feed her nothing but sweetened goats milk and honey cake until color came back into her face.
Connard began to panic, what if everything went wrong now? What if Ais were to become hysterical, cry and scream? What would the honor guard think? What would the community conclude of such unseemly behavior? To his utter relief, the child just stood stoically at his side, gazing at her fallen Uncle as if he were a statue or some strange work of art she had been brought to further her education.
Ais' lips parted, but she did not utter a word for a moment. Connard steeled himself for something shamefully inappropriate.
"All the world's a stage," she began to quote in a lilting voice, "And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts. Tonton Dex, Aislain misses you, and she promises to remember its all right to be scared sometimes, and its all right to even cry."
Before Connard could stop her, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Montoya on the uninjured cheek laying the small nosegay of yellow roses and a crumpled dirty paper crown beside his sword arm. Then, without a warning, she let out a huge wail that echoed off the darkened mirrors and shattered the peace of the dead. Crumpling against Connard she took to howling in earnest: huge tears spilling down her cheeks as she slid her arms around his neck and hid
her face from the world. The foppish tutor scooped her up, and for the first time in all the years he had been guiding her, he held her close.
The child released her grief in huge racking sobs. She cried for Tonton Dex; cried because people died and did not come back; cried because she was scared; but most of all, she cried because Tonton Dex told her one scary day that it was all right to cry.
Monsieur Connard turned without looking at the Honor Guard, no shame in his face as he carried the child home to the safety of her bed.
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From: te1eperien@aol.com (Te1eperien)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 20:14:26 EST
Having come in into the room where the body of Dexter Montoya lay.. Teleperien watched in silence the touching scene of the child. Not wishing to be noticed in such a personal moment, she stepped back into the shadows awaiting the moment she could approach the body.
When the child was carried out, Tele could only watch with sorrow and pain. So much death in this small world of Rhydin. Why did so many die such violent deaths? Putting aside the anguish, she approached the place where Dexter lay. She hardly knew him.. since she rarely came to the rings..the responiblities of her realm kept her away. But his death still touched a nerve with her..
She laid a single flower on his chest.. small.. white and perfect in shape.
And..left just as silently as she came.
Teleperien
Queen of Eldicor
Date: 06 Jan 2000 20:14:26 EST
Having come in into the room where the body of Dexter Montoya lay.. Teleperien watched in silence the touching scene of the child. Not wishing to be noticed in such a personal moment, she stepped back into the shadows awaiting the moment she could approach the body.
When the child was carried out, Tele could only watch with sorrow and pain. So much death in this small world of Rhydin. Why did so many die such violent deaths? Putting aside the anguish, she approached the place where Dexter lay. She hardly knew him.. since she rarely came to the rings..the responiblities of her realm kept her away. But his death still touched a nerve with her..
She laid a single flower on his chest.. small.. white and perfect in shape.
And..left just as silently as she came.
Teleperien
Queen of Eldicor
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From: neerisynt@aol.com (Neerisynt)
Date: 06 Jan 2000 23:49:29 EST
Watches from a neaby hill the passage of many.
The necromancer nods and flashes a signal to the gods.
A grand warrior he must have been, a better man I'm sure. Let his memory live on even as his soul finds rest.
softy chants a prayer of safe passage and leaves the dead in rest.
Date: 06 Jan 2000 23:49:29 EST
Watches from a neaby hill the passage of many.
The necromancer nods and flashes a signal to the gods.
A grand warrior he must have been, a better man I'm sure. Let his memory live on even as his soul finds rest.
softy chants a prayer of safe passage and leaves the dead in rest.
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From: taylara@aol.com (Taylara)
Date: 07 Jan 2000 01:49:23 EST
Shod hoofbeats echo an easy gait as the white stallion arrives at the beacon. With Shadow's help she dismounts, handing him the reins to hitch the beast to the post. Slipping her hand in his, her fingers lace tightly as they approach the bier. With a respectful bow of their head they pass the Honor Guard to take quiet reverie beside Dex.
Reaching inside her cloak she retrieves a single white rose, the jade and black from Melan's hilt neatly attached about the stem. In a soft whisper, "Ya 'ave given me more then I could ever repay, my friend." Her lips lightly brush his hair as she places the rose at his side.
Wrapping an arm about Shadow's waist, she leans to him as they step away from the beacon for the long trip home.
Date: 07 Jan 2000 01:49:23 EST
Shod hoofbeats echo an easy gait as the white stallion arrives at the beacon. With Shadow's help she dismounts, handing him the reins to hitch the beast to the post. Slipping her hand in his, her fingers lace tightly as they approach the bier. With a respectful bow of their head they pass the Honor Guard to take quiet reverie beside Dex.
Reaching inside her cloak she retrieves a single white rose, the jade and black from Melan's hilt neatly attached about the stem. In a soft whisper, "Ya 'ave given me more then I could ever repay, my friend." Her lips lightly brush his hair as she places the rose at his side.
Wrapping an arm about Shadow's waist, she leans to him as they step away from the beacon for the long trip home.
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From: drakewyni@aol.com (Drakewyn I)
Date: 07 Jan 2000 23:06:09 EST
A brace of days had passed before Drake had heard of Dexter's demise. She'd witnessed the attack, but her recent inexplicable illness had dulled her reations to the point where she was unable to stop the assailant. She'd watched Dexter flee the Arena, watched the assassin pursue and others hot upon his heels.
'Dexter is a more than competant swordsman, not to mention wizard' she thought to herself. 'The others will catch up, and the whole thing will be over before I even get out there...'
So she went to her office, filed the papers for the night, and went home.
The next day and the day after, she felt worse than before. Adelie played quietly in the front room under Jhessail's watchful eye. The evening of the second day, despite Jhess' protests, she transported herself to her office. Work needed to be done, no matter how poorly she felt. One look at her, and Golden told her to go home... the crowd was light, for a Thursday, and he was covering for her shift anyway. Gratefully, she left... failing
to read the notice on the message board.
All too early that next morning, Drake awoke and went back to her office... she'd forgotten to get the new Standings posted, and that knowledge had kept her from falling back asleep, even though the sun had yet to rise. On her way out, in the eeriely silent Arena, she paused a moment to read the announcements and arguements on the message board... and when she saw the announcement of Dexter's death, a chill struck her to the core.
She remembered well how they had first met... he playing manager to a rising duelist named "Cool", her, an over-exuberant commoner with no real dueling skill or style, merely a tremendous love of the sport. She quickly became fast friends with Dexter, helping to manage the betting on "Cool Money" and his incredible streak of dueling. She remembered when he'd vanished for a short time, and when he'd returned... She remembered standing by him
when he challenged once, long ago.
As time went by, their friendship became less close, but it was still strong.
She remembered how proud she was to see him take the crown, and how upset she was that her friend Jaycynda challenged him. She remembered how sad she was that he was challenged again so quickly after that, and saddened by his loss of the crown, as well.
She remembered how proud she was, watching him fight so well in the Tournament in which he'd won his ring, glad to see him back in the upper ranks once more.
It would hurt too much, she knew, to see him laying dead... though some might call her calous for not going. But his death only served to remind her of one of the cruelest rules of RhyDin... Only the good stay dead. The cruel ones, the evil ones, always seem to find their way back... but once a good person dies, they are gone forever.
Date: 07 Jan 2000 23:06:09 EST
A brace of days had passed before Drake had heard of Dexter's demise. She'd witnessed the attack, but her recent inexplicable illness had dulled her reations to the point where she was unable to stop the assailant. She'd watched Dexter flee the Arena, watched the assassin pursue and others hot upon his heels.
'Dexter is a more than competant swordsman, not to mention wizard' she thought to herself. 'The others will catch up, and the whole thing will be over before I even get out there...'
So she went to her office, filed the papers for the night, and went home.
The next day and the day after, she felt worse than before. Adelie played quietly in the front room under Jhessail's watchful eye. The evening of the second day, despite Jhess' protests, she transported herself to her office. Work needed to be done, no matter how poorly she felt. One look at her, and Golden told her to go home... the crowd was light, for a Thursday, and he was covering for her shift anyway. Gratefully, she left... failing
to read the notice on the message board.
All too early that next morning, Drake awoke and went back to her office... she'd forgotten to get the new Standings posted, and that knowledge had kept her from falling back asleep, even though the sun had yet to rise. On her way out, in the eeriely silent Arena, she paused a moment to read the announcements and arguements on the message board... and when she saw the announcement of Dexter's death, a chill struck her to the core.
She remembered well how they had first met... he playing manager to a rising duelist named "Cool", her, an over-exuberant commoner with no real dueling skill or style, merely a tremendous love of the sport. She quickly became fast friends with Dexter, helping to manage the betting on "Cool Money" and his incredible streak of dueling. She remembered when he'd vanished for a short time, and when he'd returned... She remembered standing by him
when he challenged once, long ago.
As time went by, their friendship became less close, but it was still strong.
She remembered how proud she was to see him take the crown, and how upset she was that her friend Jaycynda challenged him. She remembered how sad she was that he was challenged again so quickly after that, and saddened by his loss of the crown, as well.
She remembered how proud she was, watching him fight so well in the Tournament in which he'd won his ring, glad to see him back in the upper ranks once more.
It would hurt too much, she knew, to see him laying dead... though some might call her calous for not going. But his death only served to remind her of one of the cruelest rules of RhyDin... Only the good stay dead. The cruel ones, the evil ones, always seem to find their way back... but once a good person dies, they are gone forever.
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From: mathiaswi@aol.com (Mathias Wi)
Date: 08 Jan 2000 01:05:36 EST
The sad news had arrived at the beacon as the moon crossed over that invisible point that marks the beginning of a new day. He had been perched on the roof his back to the base of the single spire lost in his continued contemplation as he communed with the stars. His reverie was broken by the sounds of a fast approaching horse, the quiet night was soon broken by anxious voices as word was passed through the Beacon of
the tragedy that had played its self out in the night. Soon light from inside began to creep out into the surrounding night as the residents of the Beacon answered the alarm. He was content to stay where he was waiting for the clamor to pass until a voice had called out summoning him from his perch. The men at arms for Atrebla were an orderly lot, having taken influence from Dex in the inception of their ranks, but the news that greeted the night
watcher as he slid down a gutter from the roof told him all he needed to know about the situation. He had seen it before afterall, though it had been long in the past, even the best men fall to pieces when news of the death of their leader reaches them.
He quickly assessed the situation and took charge, knowing that was what was needed most at the moment. Within minutes riders were seen departing as they carried word to the members of Dex's second family, the Guardians of Truth. He knew he only needed wait the arrival of Topaz before being able to slip into obscurity once more, but for now he donned a persona that he had once carried but left behind, and all soon fell into order as
suggestions turned to orders and his voice gradually took on the hardness of command. He then took up residence on the porch Beacon watching and awaiting the arrival of Topaz and others of the Guardians
The next day passed slowly as arrangements were made and member of the Guardians came and went. He spent most of the day trying to console some and offer direction to others, but mainly trying to stay out of everyone's way. Up to this point his stay at the Beacon, though having extended longer then he had originally intended, had been mostly peaceful. He could usually count on having the nights to himself, and the daytime activities were
easily avoided. This day however there was no escaping for even if he had closeted himself in his room he would have been rousted by a maid looking for something to do to occupy her mind. The mood was solemn as was to be expected as the preparations were made for the viewing. He had snuck in and hid in the shadows in the back as the guardians said their final good-byes to one of their founders. He did this not out of disrespect, but out of
genuine fondness for these people that had welcomed him with open arms, and though he had never interfered in their meetings before this last moment he had wanted to share in his own way. The balance of the day was filled with the arrival of the occasional mourner, as several came to pay their respects. Most of the guardians had returned home to mourn in private or to gather in groups to rejoice in Dex's life, leaving but members of the guard to
honor their fallen leader in duty and respect. All within the guard shared this duty as none wished to be left out of this last tribute. After organizing a rotation of the guards and seeing Topaz to bed in her room at the Beacon, aided in sleep by a spell from one of the mages, he retreated to his own room to gather his thoughts until nightfall.
As night fell once more he found himself once more back to the spire, but this time his eyes were on the road and not on the stars. The climb had been more difficult then usual having burdened himself down with several bottles to pass the night away with. He sat and watched as they came one by one to say goodbye. He saw many of whom he had been friendly with, and several who he only knew by sight and reputation. His silent reverie only broken
by the occasional sip from a bottle or the sounds of a horse softly nickering. The arrival of Aislain had brought fond memories to him, and the sound of her grief nearly brought him down from his perch to offer comfort to his young friend, but he knew all needed their privacy to mourn just as he himself did. Finally as the night deepened and the only sound was of an owl screeching in the woods in search of its supper, he slid ever so carefully from
the roof more concerned about the safety of his bottle then of his bodily self. But the Gods were smiling upon him this night as the safety of the ground was reached and he weaved his way into the entry hall around invisible obstacles. His offer of a sip from his bottle to the honor guard was politely declined with a negligible shake of the head, and he at last found himself alone with his old friend.
Looking down upon the body and taking a long pull from the bottle his voice breaks the quiet of the night. "So me friend ye finally ran out of things to accumplish did ye? I still think ye had more left in ye, but I guess that is the way of things. All good things and good people must come to an end, but I shall miss ye dearly." A momentary pause while more of the contents of the bottle are drained. "Oh I know we rarely ever talked or ran
into each other, but it did nae keep me from respecting ye and all ye had done. And twas nice to always be able to pick up our friendship like we had only seen each other a day afore." Takes another long sip his face grimacing. "Gods after 5 years ye would think this stuff would taste better....Ye lived a grand life Dex me friend, and ye set a fine example for those that come behind ye. I would think ye would be able to rest easy knowing there
was naught else ye could do, but sometimes tis not what we do but how we do it that matters, and even in that ye struck gold. E'r not many I would be honored to follow, but ye were one of the few. Rest easy now m'friend for all ye battles are fought and won, and ye rewards await ye in the heavens. Might we meet again someday there." Swaying afore the casket and draining the contents of the bottle the night watcher silently gathers himself and
crisply salutes his departed friend before weaving back into the night and his solitude, the tears now freely streaming down his cheeks.
Date: 08 Jan 2000 01:05:36 EST
The sad news had arrived at the beacon as the moon crossed over that invisible point that marks the beginning of a new day. He had been perched on the roof his back to the base of the single spire lost in his continued contemplation as he communed with the stars. His reverie was broken by the sounds of a fast approaching horse, the quiet night was soon broken by anxious voices as word was passed through the Beacon of
the tragedy that had played its self out in the night. Soon light from inside began to creep out into the surrounding night as the residents of the Beacon answered the alarm. He was content to stay where he was waiting for the clamor to pass until a voice had called out summoning him from his perch. The men at arms for Atrebla were an orderly lot, having taken influence from Dex in the inception of their ranks, but the news that greeted the night
watcher as he slid down a gutter from the roof told him all he needed to know about the situation. He had seen it before afterall, though it had been long in the past, even the best men fall to pieces when news of the death of their leader reaches them.
He quickly assessed the situation and took charge, knowing that was what was needed most at the moment. Within minutes riders were seen departing as they carried word to the members of Dex's second family, the Guardians of Truth. He knew he only needed wait the arrival of Topaz before being able to slip into obscurity once more, but for now he donned a persona that he had once carried but left behind, and all soon fell into order as
suggestions turned to orders and his voice gradually took on the hardness of command. He then took up residence on the porch Beacon watching and awaiting the arrival of Topaz and others of the Guardians
The next day passed slowly as arrangements were made and member of the Guardians came and went. He spent most of the day trying to console some and offer direction to others, but mainly trying to stay out of everyone's way. Up to this point his stay at the Beacon, though having extended longer then he had originally intended, had been mostly peaceful. He could usually count on having the nights to himself, and the daytime activities were
easily avoided. This day however there was no escaping for even if he had closeted himself in his room he would have been rousted by a maid looking for something to do to occupy her mind. The mood was solemn as was to be expected as the preparations were made for the viewing. He had snuck in and hid in the shadows in the back as the guardians said their final good-byes to one of their founders. He did this not out of disrespect, but out of
genuine fondness for these people that had welcomed him with open arms, and though he had never interfered in their meetings before this last moment he had wanted to share in his own way. The balance of the day was filled with the arrival of the occasional mourner, as several came to pay their respects. Most of the guardians had returned home to mourn in private or to gather in groups to rejoice in Dex's life, leaving but members of the guard to
honor their fallen leader in duty and respect. All within the guard shared this duty as none wished to be left out of this last tribute. After organizing a rotation of the guards and seeing Topaz to bed in her room at the Beacon, aided in sleep by a spell from one of the mages, he retreated to his own room to gather his thoughts until nightfall.
As night fell once more he found himself once more back to the spire, but this time his eyes were on the road and not on the stars. The climb had been more difficult then usual having burdened himself down with several bottles to pass the night away with. He sat and watched as they came one by one to say goodbye. He saw many of whom he had been friendly with, and several who he only knew by sight and reputation. His silent reverie only broken
by the occasional sip from a bottle or the sounds of a horse softly nickering. The arrival of Aislain had brought fond memories to him, and the sound of her grief nearly brought him down from his perch to offer comfort to his young friend, but he knew all needed their privacy to mourn just as he himself did. Finally as the night deepened and the only sound was of an owl screeching in the woods in search of its supper, he slid ever so carefully from
the roof more concerned about the safety of his bottle then of his bodily self. But the Gods were smiling upon him this night as the safety of the ground was reached and he weaved his way into the entry hall around invisible obstacles. His offer of a sip from his bottle to the honor guard was politely declined with a negligible shake of the head, and he at last found himself alone with his old friend.
Looking down upon the body and taking a long pull from the bottle his voice breaks the quiet of the night. "So me friend ye finally ran out of things to accumplish did ye? I still think ye had more left in ye, but I guess that is the way of things. All good things and good people must come to an end, but I shall miss ye dearly." A momentary pause while more of the contents of the bottle are drained. "Oh I know we rarely ever talked or ran
into each other, but it did nae keep me from respecting ye and all ye had done. And twas nice to always be able to pick up our friendship like we had only seen each other a day afore." Takes another long sip his face grimacing. "Gods after 5 years ye would think this stuff would taste better....Ye lived a grand life Dex me friend, and ye set a fine example for those that come behind ye. I would think ye would be able to rest easy knowing there
was naught else ye could do, but sometimes tis not what we do but how we do it that matters, and even in that ye struck gold. E'r not many I would be honored to follow, but ye were one of the few. Rest easy now m'friend for all ye battles are fought and won, and ye rewards await ye in the heavens. Might we meet again someday there." Swaying afore the casket and draining the contents of the bottle the night watcher silently gathers himself and
crisply salutes his departed friend before weaving back into the night and his solitude, the tears now freely streaming down his cheeks.
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From: keirinelf@aol.com (KeirinElf)
Date: 08 Jan 2000 13:35:51 EST
Keirin was in his office when the word came of Dex's death. He sent his aide, Roan, off to watch over the Valley with fifteen of the Elite. Keirin then turned to more personal matters.
He knew that he would be called upon to speak at the Funeral. He began gathering the information he would need to pay tribute to one of the greatest men, and friends, he had ever met. He toiled long into the night, and deep through the next day. Finally, his notes gathered, he walked to the Beacon-proper to ensure that everything was in order.
Keirin smiled softly as he noted that Mathias had helped to keep things moving until Topaz was able to take over. Though he had lived many more years than most, Keirin was never good at arranging for State Funerals. He had always been more inclined to defending than ceremony.
Keirin stood in a shadowy alcove to the side of the main chamber for nearly a full day. He smiled as he noted many he knew and respected, as well as those he knew only by reputation, or even did not know at all, came to pay respects to a man he had known for a very short time.
As the young girl, Aislin, was carried away, he nearly stepped out to help. But he decided against it. He watched as Taylara and Shadow came to pay respects, smiling as she laid the pure rose beside Dex. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to the words she offered.
Finally, having assured himself that everything was as it should be, Keirin walked the halls of the Beacon, taking the time to stop and speak to the Guards to ensure that none would be allowed beyond the Hall.
Keirin finally found himself outside of Dex's old office. An office that Keirin had taken as his own a short time ago. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked to the single window and watched as others came and went, tears streaming unheeded down his face at the passing of a Legend.
Date: 08 Jan 2000 13:35:51 EST
Keirin was in his office when the word came of Dex's death. He sent his aide, Roan, off to watch over the Valley with fifteen of the Elite. Keirin then turned to more personal matters.
He knew that he would be called upon to speak at the Funeral. He began gathering the information he would need to pay tribute to one of the greatest men, and friends, he had ever met. He toiled long into the night, and deep through the next day. Finally, his notes gathered, he walked to the Beacon-proper to ensure that everything was in order.
Keirin smiled softly as he noted that Mathias had helped to keep things moving until Topaz was able to take over. Though he had lived many more years than most, Keirin was never good at arranging for State Funerals. He had always been more inclined to defending than ceremony.
Keirin stood in a shadowy alcove to the side of the main chamber for nearly a full day. He smiled as he noted many he knew and respected, as well as those he knew only by reputation, or even did not know at all, came to pay respects to a man he had known for a very short time.
As the young girl, Aislin, was carried away, he nearly stepped out to help. But he decided against it. He watched as Taylara and Shadow came to pay respects, smiling as she laid the pure rose beside Dex. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to the words she offered.
Finally, having assured himself that everything was as it should be, Keirin walked the halls of the Beacon, taking the time to stop and speak to the Guards to ensure that none would be allowed beyond the Hall.
Keirin finally found himself outside of Dex's old office. An office that Keirin had taken as his own a short time ago. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked to the single window and watched as others came and went, tears streaming unheeded down his face at the passing of a Legend.
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From: khrystawlf@aol.com (KhrystaWlf)
Date: 08 Jan 2000 20:05:40 EST
The guards nodded their respects as the small family approached the open casket. She didn't know what she would have done without Zach and Bree. Zach had found her wandering around RhyDin Town in a daze. After witnessing the accident she had been stunned, and had wandered in a near mindless stupor unable to find their cottage and the portal within that would take her home to Valensa. She had
told Zach what had happened after Dex's challenge..... the man that had attached him, the flight and chase through the arena and inn, the carriage. She told the story through tears and great wracking sobs of grief. And he had listened quietly.... offering her his strength. Just as he gave freely of that strength this evening.
The three stood quietly for long, uncounted minutes remembering Dex and all that had passed between the friends. The three approached closer to the casket, each laying a perfect yellow rose beside the many other roses. Khrys murmured quietly.... "Yellow for friendship, my friend." Turning in a somber and profound silence, the trio nod to the guards as they depart as they came...... quietly.
Date: 08 Jan 2000 20:05:40 EST
The guards nodded their respects as the small family approached the open casket. She didn't know what she would have done without Zach and Bree. Zach had found her wandering around RhyDin Town in a daze. After witnessing the accident she had been stunned, and had wandered in a near mindless stupor unable to find their cottage and the portal within that would take her home to Valensa. She had
told Zach what had happened after Dex's challenge..... the man that had attached him, the flight and chase through the arena and inn, the carriage. She told the story through tears and great wracking sobs of grief. And he had listened quietly.... offering her his strength. Just as he gave freely of that strength this evening.
The three stood quietly for long, uncounted minutes remembering Dex and all that had passed between the friends. The three approached closer to the casket, each laying a perfect yellow rose beside the many other roses. Khrys murmured quietly.... "Yellow for friendship, my friend." Turning in a somber and profound silence, the trio nod to the guards as they depart as they came...... quietly.
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From: mystikkialynna@aol.com (MystikKialynna)
Date: 09 Jan 2000 16:34:02 EST
She had been about to leave , standing just outside the doorway to the basement when she heard the cry of pain, turning, the bloody blade , the wound holding her vision. Stunned, moments later she flattened against the wall as Dex ran for the Inn. Moving on into the common room of the Inn, staring after him, more followed him. Near the front window, her startled eyes were caught by the carriage,
her friend dashing into the streets. Silver eyes widened , staring, wanting to look away, close... anything she she didn't see what was coming. Turning away, swallowing hard as she hears the voices of those reaching him. She stumbled through the common room of the Inn, gaining the portal door to the Isle. Stumbling though, in shock, seeking the peace and healing of the Isle.
There she found herself slumped in her chair at the table, staring into the forest. Stunned she related to those about what had happened.. Her friend...one of long standing on the Isle.... the first official duel she had ever called had been his....he was gone, struck down in the street before the Inn.
The questions becoming too much, she left, heading for the Tower, knowing Nanny was with the children.
Silver eyes clouded a dark stormy hue, she looks up to nod to Khrys and her family as they pass each other. A small nod to the honor guard as she passes. The hem of her dark crimson gown held above the floor as she nears the casket. A small orb of that first duel, a single crimson rose placed among the other offerings. Clouded silver raises to his face, a sad smile offered.
" The gods watch over ya and bless ya Dex. A good friend ya were and I'll miss ya."
Slow steps take her back past the guard, out to return home and remember that life is fleeting, to cherish each moment.
Date: 09 Jan 2000 16:34:02 EST
She had been about to leave , standing just outside the doorway to the basement when she heard the cry of pain, turning, the bloody blade , the wound holding her vision. Stunned, moments later she flattened against the wall as Dex ran for the Inn. Moving on into the common room of the Inn, staring after him, more followed him. Near the front window, her startled eyes were caught by the carriage,
her friend dashing into the streets. Silver eyes widened , staring, wanting to look away, close... anything she she didn't see what was coming. Turning away, swallowing hard as she hears the voices of those reaching him. She stumbled through the common room of the Inn, gaining the portal door to the Isle. Stumbling though, in shock, seeking the peace and healing of the Isle.
There she found herself slumped in her chair at the table, staring into the forest. Stunned she related to those about what had happened.. Her friend...one of long standing on the Isle.... the first official duel she had ever called had been his....he was gone, struck down in the street before the Inn.
The questions becoming too much, she left, heading for the Tower, knowing Nanny was with the children.
Silver eyes clouded a dark stormy hue, she looks up to nod to Khrys and her family as they pass each other. A small nod to the honor guard as she passes. The hem of her dark crimson gown held above the floor as she nears the casket. A small orb of that first duel, a single crimson rose placed among the other offerings. Clouded silver raises to his face, a sad smile offered.
" The gods watch over ya and bless ya Dex. A good friend ya were and I'll miss ya."
Slow steps take her back past the guard, out to return home and remember that life is fleeting, to cherish each moment.