One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Karyk visits his sister's grave

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Karyk on July 10th, 2017, 12:36 am

Timestamp: Spring 82nd

Sunlight streamed into the small room, nestled on the east side of Tarsin's Boarding house. Normally this would wake the Zeltivan shipwright within, but the bearded man was already staring at the ceiling blankly. Karyk had been dreading this day ever since he'd arrived upon Ravok's shores, drenched in his sister's blood, her three surviving kids silent and holding hands with him. Today was Natya's birthday.

The watchtower rang six times, and Karyk pulled himself upright, hands settling upon the lumps in the covers that were the three children that were his own now. Eyes already began filling with tears. as he pat at them, "Wake up lovebugs. Time to ge' ready."

Karyk slid out of the bed, careful not to bump the normally grumpy Sharay. The little redhead was devoid of any emotion today, moving quickly and efficiently, as if to not have to think about anything else. Pulling on his clothes, Karyk wondered if the twins even knew what day it was. They were still young. And it wasn't as if anyone in the Southwind family had talked about it.

Sharay started on breakfast, preparing grits and butter and cheese. Karyk began preparing his pack, putting in some food for lunch, knowing the trip would take most of the day, and they'd arrive back home in the evening. Satisfied that was all he'd need, he tied his axe bundle in the ruck sack slot. He helped the twins get dressed, both already loud and rowdy, refusing to put on their boots. Karyk picked the boys up by their shirts and plopped them in their chairs. Sharay served the food, and the family sat in silence as they ate.

A few bells later, the family stepped off the ship that transported them to Lakeshore. Becker and Decker had fought the whole over, "Becker, ya're wit' me. Decker, wit' Sharay. Y'all will be good on this trip. It ain't safe at 'ere for ya shyke, okay?"

The boys scowled, but reluctantly took the extended hands that Karyk and Sharay offered. They moved through Lakeshore, to a pair of the city guard standing on the edge of the sprawling village. The guards stopped them with a smile, "Well isn't this a fine looking family." Crouching down to Sharay's height, "And I bet you're the boss huh?"

Sharay gave him a polite smile, but she was clearly down, but coupled it with a hesitant nod. The guard looked up at Karyk, and saw the man's eyes, then reached into a pouch on his belt. Therein he grabbed three pieces of honey brittle, and handed the pieces to the three kids. "Here you go, little ones. My wife made these, I hope you enjoy." The kids took them happily, and began sucking on the spiced candies. The twins were overjoyed, and Sharay gave the man a more genuine smile. The guard stood up and looked at Karyk, "Are you guys from the..." he whispered softer, so the kids wouldn't hear, "That caravan, with the Kriital?"

Karyk's eyes grew worried, and he went to his pack to grab his probationary citizenship papers, "Easy mate, its fine. I know you all here to stay. We know you were escaping those scum in Syliras. You're safe now. Why are you all heading out today?"

Karyk relaxed a bit, "My sister died in tha' caravan... and two of their sisters," looking down at the kids and rubbing their curly mops, "It's Nat's, my sister, birthday today. 'er grave is ou' there."

The man nodded grimly, "I know the spot. So much death because of those cowardly Knights. I'll make sure to have the patrols keep an eye on that spot for you. It's on the edge after all. So please be careful, for them."

Karyk nodded at the man, a couple tears falling, "Thank ya sir. Ya're mos' kin'." The man clasped Karyk on the shoulder comforting, and the family started down the worn dirt path into the woods outside of Lakeshore.
Last edited by Karyk on July 17th, 2017, 9:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Tears and Blood Upon the Stones (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on July 10th, 2017, 2:27 am

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A lone rider and his steed slowly ambled their way down an empty road. Somewhere behind them, at the end of that road, was what many referred to as the southern outpost, the 'great' gateway to Ravok. It was the lone beacon of civilization amidst a backdrop of untamed timberland and the unspeakable dangers that lurked within. It beckoned to all the lost souls who came seeking salvation in the north, welcoming them into its loving embrace like a mother would a child, promising succor and safety for those that had braved the wilderness to seek out the sanctuary lying just beyond its watery gates. This far out however, 'civilization' had been reduced to nothing more than few dainty spires of industrial smoke in the distance.

The rider didn't care to look back, his focus was only for what lay ahead.

The wildlands rose up on either side of the unkempt path the two traveled, fiercer and more unruly the further their excursion took them. It was unnerving to say the least -the wilds always were- but the rider could do little about the mounting anxiety he was feeling save grip his horse's rein a little tighter with one hand, and keep the other close to the hilt of his sword.

No noise emanated from the Ravokian save the uninterrupted clopping of hooves over the dusty trail. The road he traveled was no longer the stone and cobblestone affair of the magnificent city he had left a few bells earlier, merely something hacked out of the grass at one point long ago and then covered with gravel and salt to stop it returning. Now so much of it had been flung to one side or washed away that the bare dirt was starting to show again. Birds chirped and called to one another all around him, and every so often something barked and hissed from the shadows, but nothing came near the road. They knew, in that primal way, that the road meant men, and men meant iron and fire and death. They stayed well clear of it, and thinking about as he had been, Elias wondered if he should have taken heed of their example too.

This day had begun with a letter waiting for him upon his doorstep, and ever since then, something had told him, something all too clear and clarion in his mind, that today was going to be a red day. A bad day. Looking at the newly purchased shovel haphazardly tied to his mount's side only made the rider all the more certain of that simple truth, and yet he carried on, unable to turn himself around despite the endless wailing of his better judgement to do so. Elias Caldera knew he had no business being out there that late summer morning, but something drove him on, something deeper down this path he had found himself on was calling out to him, much like Ravok called out to those who needed its guidance the most. His own little beacon, if you would.

The mage steered his horse down the overgrown road, his mount steady and certain as always. Elias made sure to keep one eye on the ground, wary of creatures or potholes, but mostly he scanned the trees and the growing number of hiding places popping all around him in the ever thickening foliage. “Did I ever name you?” Elias abruptly inquired out of the blue. His question had, of course, been directed to his horse and current riding companion, but being a horse, the animal thought better than to share its opinion on the matter out loud and merely snorted in curt response. “I feel like we've had this conversation before...” The mage sighed, leaning back in his saddle as his gaze, for the first time, began to wander across more than just the possibilities of danger lining his path and the pulsating prize waiting beyond.

His hand began to do good deal of wandering itself, mostly through his pack as he sifted through its assortment of supplies, both new and old, for about the dozenth time that bell. No one and nothing had crossed his course since leaving the outpost, and the loneliness of the road, though fitting considering his destination, was beginning to tarry on his nerves. "You're lousy company." The swordsman said, admonishing the less than boisterous beast of burden beneath him. The horse's retort was a callous flick of its tale.

Elias sighed again.

He had no business being out here.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Karyk on July 12th, 2017, 4:30 am

The family trudged along through the woods for a few bells, having seen the occasional patrol, feeling safer here. The dirt path that they followed was a wide one, with deep grooves from wagon wheels carved into it, clearly one of the most traveled ways into the city. The twins were already getting tired, so Becker was riding on Karyk's shoulders, while Sharay was lugging Decker on her back. The little girl was tired under it, but whenever Karyk looked down to check on her, she smiled back, happy to be emulating him.

Ever since Karyk had officially taken her on as his apprentice in the shipbuilding trade, she seemed to be doing better. It gave her something to focus on, something to look forward to. And she seemed to be doing her best to be like him, while maintaining that proud fire that her mother had instilled. Maybe next season, they'd go to Lakeshore and build a boat together, from scratch. Karyk and his parents had done that when he was about Sharay's age. That ship eventually had to be sold to help out his sister, but it was a lot of fun in Karyk's youth. That was his ship, built with just the hands of family.

Suddenly, Sharay stopped cold in her tracks. Karyk looked down, following her eye line, seeing the reason why. He'd lost track of where they were, not that he knew the path well, having only walked it once before. There, a stone's throw from the bend in the path, was a carved wooden trident standing upright. And laying behind it, a bed of stones, a cairn. They'd arrived.

Sliding the young boy from his shoulders, Karyk deposited him to the dirt, and took him by the hand, and Sharay followed suit. Karyk pulled his niece in next to him, hugging her around the shoulders at his hip. As he walked toward his sister and nieces' grave, the tears were already welling up, his chest growing tight. Natya's wasn't the only Zeltivan cairn in this makeshift graveyard. There were several, all killed during the attack by that giant bird creature.

Arriving right in front, Karyk knelt down before it, seeing the engraving's of their names on the trident, carved by himself. 'Natya, Anora, Laury, mother, daughters, swimming with Laviku, together.' The rocks were all local, still a bit muddy and mossy but that was fine, they'd eventually be grown over completely. Karyk could still remember placing their bodies into the shallow dug grave, looked on upon by the city guards that had rescued them. Natya was placed in the center, her two daughters cradled in her arms, as Karyk stacked stone after stone upon her.

There was a sniffle, and Karyk looked over, seeing tears streaming down Sharay's face, only now noticing his own finally flowing. He pulled the young girl in close, hugging her, as Becker and Decker join the hug. They weren't crying, maybe not quite fully comprehending what exactly had happened. They were just quiet.

"'Ey there Nat, 'ope you, Anora, an' little Laury are doin' okay. We all miss ya so much. It's good to know y'all are lookin' over us." Karyk ruffled Sharay's curls, "Little Sharay 'ere is my apprentice at the Shipyar' too, makin' us proud. Becker an' Decker 'ave been good. Well, as good as we can expect from 'em."

Karyk sniffled as the tears kept flowing, "I'm sorry I weren't stron' enough to keep ya safe. I though' I knew what I were doin', takin' us to Syliras. But I were a fool. Tha's all I am, a big ol' fool. I'll never forgive Morwen, for forcin' us to leave our 'ome. I'll never forgive Syliras for lockin' us out. I'll never forgive that damn bird for killin' ya. An' I'll never forgive myself for bein' too weak of a man to stop any of it. Never again Nat. I'll never be tha' weak man again, tha' fool. Never again."

A loud grumble filled the air, and Karyk looked down at Sharay, "Were tha' yar stomach, lovebug?" The little girl nodded, and Karyk smiled. He sat down, leaving space between himself and the grave. He slipped off his pack, and began pulling out the food they brought. There was a loaf of bread, a large chunk of cheese, a slab of salted pork wrapped in paper, some dried fruits, and a skin of wine. Sharay grabbed a knife from his pack and began cutting up the food, as Karyk leaned back on his hands. He was grateful Ravok had taken them in. It was still an adjustment, but the city was the best they could've asked for. Sharay handed him a sandwich, "Thank ya lovebug," as he bit into it, watching the twins tear into theirs.
Last edited by Karyk on July 17th, 2017, 9:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Tears and Blood Upon the Stones (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on July 16th, 2017, 10:42 pm

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“Karyk?” The name fell from lips twisted by surprise and confusion. It was a frail and familiar voice however, one the shipbuilder would likely recognize with little effort.

The woman had come like a wraith from the trees, deceptively quiet in spite of her aged gait and long flowing red robe that trailed behind her soft steps. She carried herself with an air about her that seemed somber and grim, but when dark haggard fell upon the children sharing a meal with their old man, a genuine and likely unavoidable smile managed to creep its way upon her thin lips.

Merrill Corwood was an aged woman born and raised in the great coastal city, considered by all to be Zeltivan through and through. Her short hair, once a wondrously golden crown upon her head, had lost much of its luster over the years, and had been reduced to sharing its throne with the streaks of faded white that now prevailed. Karyk would have undoubtedly recognized her from their ill-fated trip to Syliras, but if he remembered at all, he would almost certainly recognize how poorly her time in Ravok had treated to her. Once vibrant and shockingly spirited for a lady her age, Merrill's features now sagged, her posture drooped, and new wrinkles had cropped up with striking prominence all across her face. Her eyes loomed in a distant way, sullen and dark from a clear lack of sleep. In all, she seemed tired, and not in a way that suggested the trek out here to the graves had been an arduous one on her old bones. This was kind of weariness Karyk could also recognize, for it was the kind that came from the loss of a loved one.

Tamlen, her husband, had perished during the attack that had claimed so many others that horrible day, and Merrill, much like everyone else whose family or friends now lay beneath the dirt, had never quiet been the same since. Though their time together had ended abruptly once they’d arrived in Ravok, during the trip she’d often offered to take care of the children in Karyk’s or Natya's absence, and both her and Tamlen grew quite fond of the three of them over the long course of the journey north. Naturally, Tamlen being a hardworking man from the Sailor’s Quarter was a fellow whose calloused hands were made to shape wood, and it hadn’t taken long before he and his fellow shipbuilder were at it around the camp fire, drinking and talking of better times while his wife tended dutifully to supper and the three tykes who each were in dire need of something else to do than listen to their uncle talk about ships again.

Her tender smile seemed to reflect those simpler times, but it wasn’t to last. Her attention shifted languidly back to the bearded man, as if suddenly remembering something much too important to have forgotten in the first place. “What are you doing-” She stopped herself, abashed by her own foolishness. “Oh right, of course.” She concluded before even beginning as she ever so subtly glanced at the cairn that was now home to Natya and her two daughters. “I wasn’t expecting company out here.” She added, a tinge of nervousness edging into her voice. She walked over to the trio’s picnic and knelt down, that same disconcerting smile returning ever broader now as she turned to the children. “Hello Sharay, it surely has been a while hasn’t it, little one? Decker, Becker, I hope you two haven’t been causing your sister too much fuss now?

Her attention shifted back to Karyk then, and she seemed to consider her next words for him carefully for a while before they eventually came tumbling out regardless of her consideration. “Have you… have you just arrived? Do you plan to stay much longer, that is?” Her robe, beautiful and blood red, was a thing of silken beauty that had no place being on an ex-fishing boat captain who had always taken pride in her more lean and able-bodied appearance in the past. In fact, anyone would have been hard pressed to recall ever seeing Merrill in a dress for that matter, let alone the almost ceremonial garb that was now bunched up at her knees. She fidgeted with the rich material, hands restlessly pinching at the garb as she awaited an answer that clearly carried too much weight for it to be mere chit chat.

The woman was clearly anxious and barely managing to keep that apprehension from showing outright. She was either deeply glad for the company and the opportunity they provided to talk to someone else other than names upon tombstones, or severely concerned with their unexpected arrival. Perhaps the children would not have picked up on such intricacies, but her fellow Zeltivan surely would.

Something was off.


LibertiesI took a ton of them with this, so let me know if I crossed a line.

I tried to keep it vague so you could fill in the details if you wanted though.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Karyk on September 2nd, 2017, 8:10 pm

Karyk's mouth was salivating as he began to bring the salted pork and cheese sandwich to his lips. But before the first wonderful bite could be taken, he heard his name, from a voice he knew but hadn't heard in a while. Looking up, jaw still dropped in consumption preparation, sandwich still held dumbly before him, he saw Merrill one of the oldest members of the caravan. Most of the elderly had chosen to stay in Zeltiva, unsure they could survive such a journey even in perfect circumstances.

She was a staple in the port back home. And even more so on the journey, playing babysitter and substitute grandmother. Her husband, Tamlen, had been on one of the other ship crews back in the yard, but Karyk's own often worked with him. The Corwoods were just as important members of the Zeltivan family as any other. True to their name, true to their city, and true to their loyalty. They'd give anything for their portkin, just as anyone would do the same for them. And Tamlen had given everything.

Karyk had only heard what had happened, for when his carriage and the other had wrecked, tearing his own blood family in half, Tamlen had been fending off that dreaded vulture monster. It tore the man in two, but Merrill and others lived for it.

Seeing Merrill now, a slight of the energetic and loving woman she'd been filled Karyk with guilt. Guilt at having made the foolish choice of creating this caravan without having any idea as to what he was doing. Guilt at having gone north instead of south. Guilt at not talking to anyone aside from the Soleran twins since their arrival in Ravok. Clenching his fist, Karyk could only confirm that he was a cowardly man. And he hated himself for that truth.

Karyk watched as the woman's face was adorned with that broken smile that he knew too often visited his own visage. She spoke kindly to the children, as she'd always done, but that spark was gone. And probably gone for good. But the twins always behaved for the woman, for the former captain, and really all Zeltivan women, had the temper to keep ornery little boys in check. They shook their heads fervently at her question.

Once her attention came back to him, he responded in kind, "Jus' a few chimes ago." Karyk's voice was a bit hollow, his throat tightened, no wind left in his sails, "An' aye, plan to stay a bi'. Make a day of it, bu' ge' back to shore before dark."

Karyk was about to ask her about her own plans out here when finally noticed the dreadfully obvious. Merrill wasn't wearing trousers, but rather some gaudy robe of blood red. It was the sort of outfit that a foreign merchant might've worn, and would've garnered heckling from the woman. Karyk couldn't think of a time when he knew the woman to wear anything other than trousers, boots, and a standard sailor's shirt, even in her retirement.

And she was nervous. That wasn't like her at all. While her husband had died bravely, she'd lived a life of true bravery. She'd fought off many pirates in her time, tackled many of Laviku's creatures, and many said that in her prime there were none that could match her scimitar and buckler in combat. Hell, she'd had the nickname Madame Menalim, after having single-handedly slaying one of the vicious creatures while in the water herself. So what made her nervous? It made no sense.

"Sharay, watch ya'r brothers for a bi', yeah?"

Karyk set down his sandwich and stood up, taking one of the woman's robed arms in his own. He walked her slowly away from the children, until they were just out of earshot, "Merrill, wha's wrong? Did we disturb ya? I ain't ever seen ya shaken before. 'ell, no one 'as." The concern in his voice and his eyes was pure and genuine. For while he'd forsaken his people upon their arrival, in this moment, he was here for her, and for all of them. And without his realizing it, he was once more stepping into the bloodied boots of Karyk the leader of the caravan.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on April 9th, 2018, 3:46 am

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Merrill gave the rugged craftsman a kindly and apologetic look. “Oh no, no, it’s not that at all, Karyk. I’m glad you’re here,” she said with a feeble smile, “It does my old heart good to see the little ones again, truly. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting the company is all… I mean -I was, just not yours, I suppose. Not today of all days anyway.” She could see the confusion her words had garnered in her bearded friend, and the elderly Zeltivan shook her head in terse contrition. “I’m sorry son, I just mean, I was expecting someone else today is all… in fact,” Merrill tilted her head to the side as if listening to a whisper on the wind only she could hear

he’s here now.

Both turned to look over to where the old woman had nodded, and standing there amidst the trees, quiet as death itself atop his dark steed, a blue eyed ghost was staring back at them.




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Elias watched in tense silence as the old woman robed in red politely dismissed her companion, a scraggly and rough looking man in his twenty somethings who seemed rather alarmed to have not noticed the stryfer’s approach. He may not have noticed, but the woman he’d been talking to had felt the swordsman coming for a long time now, and as she looked into the young soldier’s cold, distant eyes, she returned his harsh gaze… with a soft smile.

The pale man had already been on edge at that point, but now he was practically squirming in his own skin.

Once the other man had taken his leave, the woman casually waved him over, slowly walking off in the opposite direction. The mage could sense more souls towards where the stranger had departed and he assumed whatever mysterious end this old hag had in store was the kind that required privacy. Reluctantly, he kicked his mount in action and began to follow. At first it was at a wary distance, but eventually, the soldier was trotting up alongside the woman as they quietly made their way deeper into the woods.

I’m glad you decided to come. I honestly wasn’t sure you would.” The old woman was the first to break the uncertain silence that fueled the unease between them. Elias scoffed in return, his eyes focused deliberately on the path ahead as they spoke. “How could I resist the invitation?” He said with a distinct and pungent air of embittered sarcasm. When a strange woman goes skulking about your home in the dead of night and leaves an unsigned letter on your doorstep with a cryptic summons to meet her out in the middle woods alone, what else is a gentleman to do but gather up his things and sally forth in the wilderness? “You know what I am, don’t you? What I can do to you if I so choose? You’ve been watching me long enough to figure out that much, I assume.

She seemed -not so much surprised by his statement, as she was embarrassed by it. “Oh,” the old sailor retorted exaggeratedly with all the pomp and irksome indifference to his threat that any proud Zeltivan would. “So you did notice, I was beginning to think I was invisible to you, or you just didn’t know how your mark worked.” She was alluding, of course, to the fact that Elias and her both shared a mutual ‘friend,’ though the Caldera would never go so far as to call him something so personal. None the less, both of them were feeling the cordial tug of his blood red chains upon their flesh as if the things were made of true steel instead of divine magic. For both Elias and Merrill bore the gnosis of Viratas, the lord of blood.

Of course I noticed you." he asserted, annoyed at her assumption, "You were about as subtle as a bloodbane in a butcher’s shop. It was amusing at first, watching you bumble your way around in the shadows, but it soon grew tiresome.” She’d been tailing him off an on for the better part of two weeks now, and each time the sorcerer had noticed the wrinkly old spy even before the pull of their gnosis marks alluded him to the woman’s presence. It had been troubling at first to say the least, but soon the relevance of whatever threat he initially though she may have posed had diminished greatly into little more than a distracting annoyance upon his periphery. He had left her alone all the same, unwilling to engage the unknown nor the questionable bond he shared with it for reasons he still wasn’t certain of to be honest. That obstinate avoidance had apparently all culminated in Merrill deciding stealth and indirectness were no longer working, forcing her hand to pen, and her pen to paper.

Oh, well forgive me, mi lord!” Merrill snorted, her lips twisting into a sour frown as a hand found its way to her hip. It was an ornery posture Elias had a feeling a woman like her was all too accustomed to adopting. “But I’m a bit too old for all the sneaking and traipsing about you Ravokians are so accustomed to!

The stryfer gave her an insufferable look. “Then why do you torment me, woman?” He snapped. “Why do you prowl in my wake like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Do you seek from me vengeance for some wrong? Have my enemies hired you to end my life? Is this your means of a trap for me? Well?!

Contemptible ass!” The hag shot back, her frustration and furor matching that of the ghastly pale accuser without a moment's hesitation. “Its as I promised in my letter, I mean you no damn harm! I asked you out here because…” She stopped, hesitating for a moment as the wrinkles upon her elderly face worked themselves into a fit to match the plain tumult going on within her mind. She didn’t seem to be debating whether or not she had to say what she wanted to say, but instead how she was going to say. With a haggard sigh, it appeared she had finally made a choice. “because today is important to me. Because today is not the kind of day one needs to go through alone and, gods help me, I have no one else…

She looked up at him then, wary green eyes that had seen so much in their time falling upon his tense and anxious form. She looked tired, very tired, a kind of helpless weariness that was only known to those who’d been struggling with something far too important to put off any longer. It was a look that, for some reason, made him soften his apprehension, if only for a moment.

What’s so special about today?” The soldier asked, and those green eyes went hollow as the words flowed from Merrill as calmly as the morning breeze.

Because today is the day I’ve decided to die.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on April 12th, 2018, 3:15 am, edited 1 time in total.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on April 9th, 2018, 4:02 am

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I figured as much.” The soldier said flatly.

I reckon that’s not what you were expecting to hear, and I I’ll admit it’s a lot to just drop on a strang- wait, what?! What do you mean ‘you figure as much’?” Her jolt of shock had been near palpable, if not even comical, but Elias's matter of fact tone and countenance hadn’t faltered.

I mean, I figured as much. Like I said, you weren’t very subtle with your attempts at espionage, nor does it seem you’re at all familiar with spotting a tail. I had you followed, Mrs. Corwood.” Again, the surprise, again, the Ravokian held cool his composure in light of its demanding nature. “You visited The Black Tar a few times -more than a few times actually.” Though she didn’t seem like the type, in this particular instant Merrill had shown herself to be the kind of indecisive that got soldiers killed and battles lost. She’d gone to the less than reputable store more than once with an initial confidence as tangible as the summer sun, but time and time again, though her journey had begun promising and full of vigor, come the moment she’d actually reached the store's front entrance, her resolve had faltered and failed, leaving her a wavering, tentative mess just outside its doors.

Finally, after far too many bells spent dawdling outside in mental debate, and far too many days ending in a trip to the nearby pub instead, Merrill had finally found the nerve to step inside.

Naturally, most people had heard the dark and ominous stories about the Black Tar and its shadowy purveyor, but the man behind the curtain wasn’t as mysterious as he liked to believe. You threatened to break enough vials and burn enough important looking herbs and all the pomp and façade vanish like so much cheap incense with the windows thrown open. “The owner told me about the curious conversation you two had, and about the poison you purchased from him that day,” Elias continued, reaching down into one of his saddlebags to gingerly retrieve something. “And when I pressed him, he was kind enough to surrender the antidote as well.” The little vial he had pulled free from the bag caught the light as he gripped it between his fingers. The contents were an odd and sickly shade of green and the bottle itself was inconspicuous and unlabeled, but within resided the cure for the deadly toxin Merrill had spent so much coin on. He had taken the antidote fully expecting to use it for himself later should things go awry as they often did, but after he’d arrived, his concept of what this clandestine meeting was all about had changed drastically.

He had looked into her aura as she looked back at him, smiling, and he could see that behind those sad eyes there were none of the things he saw in those who had come before her to claim his life. The tightening of muscles, the shortness of breath, the seething rage, the focused fury, the putrid conviction, Elias knew all these things combined made up the stink of a man who was intent to kill. He’d been around such subtle and overbearing signs nearly his entire life and grown accustomed to spotting them, with or without his auristics. Merrill was a lot of things, many of them confusing, but what she wasn’t was here to kill him, that much was plain to see.

Truth be told, it had been the letter that had made things so obvious in the end. The sheer fatalistic nature of her script, the way each sentence ended with a sense of dreadful intent, even if it hadn’t been purposeful, had still been a clue towards piecing together her mysterious ends… that and the fact that she had also requested he bring a shovel along hadn’t helped much in concealing her motives either.

Well,” Merrill said after a while, half scowling, “You must be a real joy at surprise birthday parties. You’ve certainly ruined my surprise.” The Zeltivan sighed, brushed at her robes indelicately, and then swept the stray strands of silvery hair from her face to better reveal the beleaguered look that had been hiding beneath them. “Yes, I came out here to end it all. There, its out in the open now, I suppose. I got my affairs all in order, got my myself all dressed up, wandered out here into the woods with a hand full of poison, and I then called you to help -gods above, I sound absolutely insane saying all this out loud now, but there you go, I’m a mad old woman with nothing left to lose. Anymore questions?” Clasping her face in leathery, calloused hands, Merrill dropped herself unceremoniously upon a nearby capsized log. She groaned, defeated, and the pained and fatigued sound reverberating within her palms as she sunk deeper into her seated slouch.

For his part, Elias still had not moved from his own seat atop the nameless horse, but now he was fighting off the fidgets that beset him and was looking about the clearing uncomfortably as if in search of some rescue. He cleared his throat, returned his attentions back to the suicidal mad woman, and asked “And... you chose me to help you do this solely because of the gnosis we share?” Another heartless groan from her, though this time it sounded vaguely of agreement.

And you wanted me to bury you once it was done.” He concluded matter of factly. Merril finally released herself from the imprisonment of her embarrassment, fingers stretching the sagging skin of her cheeks taught as she pulled them free with one final sigh. “My Tamlen... died during the journey here. He’s buried just beyond the grove back the way we came. I’ve had my eye on the little spot next to his grave ever since we put him in the ground, the one where those pretty white flowers grow. I had hoped to join him there once I had… worked up the courage.

I see. I’m sorry.” Was all the stryfer could manage. He didn’t mean it, but he didn’t know what else to say. Usually that just meant it was time to leave, but something held him here, with her, if only for a little while longer. Was it the gnosis, or her tale? Both were tragically familiar in their own way.

Oh, that’s alright. I’ve come to grips with it since then, I think. I’m not all that unfamiliar with loss, you see.” She gave him a sly yet rueful look, pulling up the sleeve of her blood red robe to reveal the equally crimson links of Viratas’s chains upon her arm. Elias was shocked to see two marks of the blood god there. “In fact, you could say me and loss are practically old pals by now. That’s the thing about getting as old as I am, I suppose, you get to watch as everyone else fades away before their time while you keep trudging along. Sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, I've lost them all. In the end it was just me and Tamlen, and for a long, long time that was enough. We came up north hoping to find a quite little place for us to spend the last of our days in peace, but then that damn, stubborn fool had to play the hero one final time. Didn’t even give a damn about me when he saw those people in trouble, just charged after that monster like he was fifty years younger and just as dumb. He’s always been like that, running head long into a problem, especially when it wasn’t his to begin with. Stubborn, stupid old fool…

She looked up at him, a seriousness taking hold of her tone now. “I’m a Corwood, Zeltivan true and proud. Giving up isn’t in my nature, but I’m also a Corwood, and family is everything -or at least it was. I don't know if you know what that's like, but its hard to explain, and even harder still to describe the hole it leaves in you when its gone. Now every time I look at this gnosis, I feel like a sham and I’m reminded again of all the ones I lost. I'm marked by the god of family, but I have none left... Putting me in the ground is only part of it, and yes, I would very much appreciate not being left out here to rot like a hunk of shriveled up pork. What I asked you out here for though, what I really need you to do, is just to listen to an old woman babble for a little while. After me, there’s no one left to carry on the story of my family, and it would be a real damn shame if we wound up forgotten because I couldn't work past my pride to ask for a little help.

Merrill’s eyes fell to the floor once more, dejected and lost. “Yet again I hear the words out loud, and yet again I am reminded how utterly ridiculous they sound outside my head.

There was a pause in the conversation, and for what felt like a long time, the rustling of the sentinel pines around them and the distant chirping of the birds hiding within their evergreen embrace was the only sound to be heard.

You’re intent on going through with this, then?” Elias asked, breaking the tranquility with a question.

I am.” Merrill replied sternly. "Don't bother arguing with me about it. I've been arguing with myself in the mirror for months now. One of us finally won out."

You know, I could stop you. Drag you back to Ravok and have them lock you away for your own safety.

You could, I suppose, but I’d just wind right back up here in the end…

The two looked at each other, cold blue eyes mingling with the dull, jaded greens that defiantly stared back. He knew this loss, he understood perfectly. It was what he felt after his mother passed. What he felt after Torian's demise. That hollow, gnawing void that ate you up for them inside like a sickness. It was inescabable, and it had to be filled with something -anything, lest it consume you whole. For Elias, it had been vengeance. The need to slaughter his false father for his crimes was all that hjad driven him for years. After the deed was done, there had been nothing left, and that darkness had returned, but this time he'd welcomed it gladly. Death would have been a reprieve then, but as fate would have it, god had bigger plans than the fool whom worshiped him.

Without another word, Elias dismounted, slung his reigns over a nearby branch, walked over to the old sea captain, and took a seat next to her on the log. He rested his elbows upon his knees and leaned forward, attention decidedly cast anywhere else but on Merrill herself. He was fighting his own discomfort, and it was obvious, but the soldier swallowed, honed his nerve, and then with a strangely casually tone he said “Tamlen sounds like one hell of a man.

Tell me about him.”


For the first time since he’d met her, Merrill Corwood's eyes lit up with a spark of something that looked genuinely… happy.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on April 12th, 2018, 3:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on April 9th, 2018, 4:09 am

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A Few Bells Later



The sound of raucous laughter filled the late afternoon air. The leaves trembled with the mirth, and even the trees themselves seemed to shake.

No- no you didn’t! I don't believe it.” Elias guffawed, gasping for air between the bouts of chuckles that had gone on now for so long it had nearly become painful. “I swear to all the gods, its true!” Merrill shouted back through her own wheezing laughter, “I had a bottle of Zeltivan rum in one hand, and my knickers in the other, and I was screaming at the bloody to moon to…

gimme back my bloody ship!”
Gimme back my bloody ship!”

The two finished in unison, which only lead to another roar of hilarity breaking out between them, though this time it was Elias who nearly fell flat on his ass for all his troubles instead of Merrill. He managed to catch himself thankfully, and rubbed a tear from his eye. “And,” he said once he’d managed to reign in his snickering "and then what did Yorick do?

Ha! What else? He and Tamlen had to tackle me off that damn table and drag me home before the bloody Akalak came in and put me away for public drunkenness and indecent exposure. Apparently, I gave the two of them a good fight along the way it seems. I woke up the next morning and they both had black eyes and some real sour looks for me, though I don’t remember a bit of it.” Elias shook his head, his toothy smile a near constant upon his marred features. They’d talked for so long now, he’d lost track of time, and truth be told, he’d lost track of himself too. The humor came naturally, as had the amusement. There was no veil of pretense or charade of normalcy between them, though it had begun as such. Over the bells though, that had changed. He’d listened to Merrill’s tale of family and loss, recounting each and every family member she’d known, and some she hadn’t. From her great, great, great uncle Simir to her youngest grandson Oliver, Elias had been learning the Corwood family history name by name, story by story, and with each one he found himself more and more at ease around this woman who was no more a stranger to him than he was to her. Merrill was an insufferable kind of headstrong and stubborn woman, the kind that either made you tear your hair out respect the hell out of. Tough as nails and even more pointed when it came to getting what she wanted, the old Zeltivan felt like the picturesque portrait of her people all bottled up into one old, cantankerous, drunken, proud and noble mess.

It was almost inspiring really.

She’d known loss just as he had, and she'd known hardship just as he had, and that kinship of misery had formed a concord between them, one genuine and deep enough that even the stryfer couldn’t deny. Before long he had begun regaling her of his own past and his own family. Naturally, he’d kept the stories short and vague, for all of them ended in tragedy, but Merrill never pushed him for more than he allowed. It was strange at first, thinking on his past and his family without the usual somber overcast of anguish and regret that never failed to come along with such thoughts, but the Zeltivan had inspired something in him, something that endeavored to sift through the darkness and find the light beneath. There were good times once, and those were what you were meant to cling to, what you used to remember to lost by, or so she had claimed. Elias thought that a nice sentiment.

Yorick sounds just like his father.” The soldier grinned, taking a sip from his cantine before passing it to Merrill. She took it gladly.

Oh yah, that boy always took after Tamlen. Thank goodness he at least got my good looks.” She chuckled. “You would have liked him I think, he was always so uptight about everything, but get enough liquor and bad ideas in him, and all of a sudden he was the life of the party.” Elias didn’t doubt that, most of Merrill stories had some sort of drunken debauchery at their climax, and apparently that hadn’t waned even in her later years. It seemed unlikely anyone could have avoided the drink when the old sailor was around. “Mmm, yes, nothing could stop that lad, and his little boy was just like him… we couldn’t find either of them after the storm.

The merriment faded in an instant, for like all of Merrill’s stories thus far, this one too ended in tragedy. A few years after Yorick and his boy had gone missing, Tamlen had followed, and like that, the long saga of the Corwoods had come to a close... or at least it would soon.

The djed storms six years ago?” Elias asked, just to make certain. Merrill nodded solemnly, though a faint smile still tugged at her lips as she continued to recollect in her own, silent way. “I used to curse Ivak for that day, him and all the gods involved, but most of all, I hated that boy who had been the one to release him. It took me a long time to forgive-

What are you talking about?” Elias interrupted, and he realized with a start that his arm had shot out and grabbed Merrill’s. She looked at it, startled, then up at him.

You didn’t know? He claimed he would be going around the world, spreading the news and making amends. Riverfall was his first stop. I was there in the council hall when he spoke.

Who? Who are you talking about, Merrill?

She gave him a look that was hard to read.

Leo Varniak, the one who freed the fire god from his prison. The one who brought the world to its knees.


Riverfall Council Meeting
Last edited by Elias Caldera on April 12th, 2018, 4:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on April 9th, 2018, 4:23 am

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Merill had described him as a gaunt, shaggy young man no older than Elias was now. Robed in firey silk and the divine will of his god, Varniak had approached the council of Riverfall and casually revealed his dire hand in the liberation of his lord and master. Apparently the Azenth was Ivak’s champion, and with the god’s release and ascension, so too were a number of others formed from the explosion of sheer power that had occurred when the prison doors were torn open. Akvin, some mortal magecrafter from Syliras had apparently become the god of Creativity, and another, Xhyvas, master of Trancedence -whatever that meant- had also risen from death, but it was the last name Merrill remembered that Elias was most obsessive about, and he had pressed her on it over and over again.

Ssena, the goddess of fear.

Are you sure about that?” He had asked anxiously, and he could tell that the way his eyes went wide and wild that he was starting to scare her, but he needed to be certain! “Yes,” the old woman muttered assuredly, “he had called her the bride of Rhysol. He called her his ‘Voice.

It had nearly been too much. To learn that the horrible storm was not some freak accident, but in fact the work of one man and his band of fools… it got only grew worse when he learned of Sylir. “My god.” The mage had breathed, a maelstrom of emotions crashing against the shores of his mind. Sylir had returned… it was inconceivable, but Merrill was no liar, and she had nothing to gain from such pettiness. She had said his name was once Glav Navik, a priest of some renown and the son of the previous Sylir himself.

This is- this can’t…

Are you alright?” he heard the concern, but the voice was miles away and his thoughts were elsewhere. The Voice had abandoned Rhysol and Ravok to join the pantheon, Chaos’s greatest enemy was alive once more, and his mother’s killer was no longer some freak force of nature, but in fact a god and his damnable champion. Lords above, no, he was not alright! Nothing was alright! Nothing would ever be alright after this. How could he have not known? How could this have been kept a secret from him. Surely this was not common knowledge in Ravok, or else the people would have turned in on themselves like animals in the street. Their god had been proven fallible, and now was beset by two enemies while his closest ally and confident was nowhere to be seen. It was too much, and Elias felt his legs give way beneath him and soon found himself slumping against a nearby tree.

Hey now, hold on, I thought I was the one who had a date with destiny today. Seriously lad, snap out of it, you’re worrying me.

How could he explain this to her? How did he put into words so many revelations and so many tumultuous feelings without coming off as a babbling mad man?

My… mother died in the storm.” He mumbled finally, “This is… just a lot to take in.” It was his first -not lie, but not quite the whole truth he’d found the need to use on Merrill. It didn’t feel good, not even for him. “I understand. You never mentioned her. I was wondering what had happened.

She was the reason Viratas marked me in the first place. I don’t think he ever saw much in me despite Caiden’s teachings, but in her, he saw the drive to sacrifice everything for her family. I feel like he tried to honor her memory by saving me that day. I don’t know, its… complicated. I know so little about him.

He looked up from his depression to see a wry smile on the old woman’s face. “Oh, I don’t think he does anything so convoluted as that. You’d get the same impression if you talked to him like I do.” Now it was Elias’s turn to give her a strange look.

You… talk to Viratas?

Oh yah, sometimes he even talks back, but not while I’m in Ravok though. No prayer made in that city ever goes unnoticed by the dark god ruling over it, or so at least that’s what Viratas says. So, I come out here most of time, to visit to Tamlen, to have a little chat with the both of them. As you can imagine, he’s not entirely happy with my decision, buts its mine none the less, and I think he'll come to respect that in the end.” She got up from her seat and walked over to where he lay, and even in his dejected state, Elias couldn’t help but notice the strain even such a small act had caused her. He’d been noticing that more and more lately in fact, and it seemed like her weariness had only gotten worse with time. Never the less, she had made the effort, and knelt next to him now, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Viratas chose you, and he chose you for a reason Elias, I know it. Here, I want you to have this.” A hand slipped into her robe, and from its folds Merill withdrew a small book, barely bigger than her palm. “Its called a Viratasa.

Elias straitened, focus affixed upon the minuscule prayer book with newfound interest. “I know, Caiden had one. He used to teach me things from it.

Well now you can teach yourself. I had planned on taking this with me, but its clear you’ll need it more than I will.

I couldn’t-

Shut up and take the damn thing, boy.

…Thank you, Merrill.

Oh,” She grunted, dropping herself into a seat next to him against the tree, “don’t mention it.” She was out of breath, practically gasping now. “Least I could do. You really had me worried for a chime there, kid. I was scared I’d have to do this alone.

He mumbled an apology beneath his breath, and for a little while, the two of them sat in silence, Elias’s fingers playing idly with the leather binding of the gift he’d just received. His thoughts were still wracked, but amidst the turmoil, there was a deep seated sense of gratitude. He knew she hadn’t needed to do this for him, and it made him all the more appreciative.

I think… I think its time, Elias.

The voice caught the young soldier off guard, and he furrowed an eyebrow at the statement, though the two of them sat facing away from the other. “I see.” He said somberly.

Hey,” she wheezed, her tenor having grown low and weak, “do me a favor, make my cairn just a bit bigger than Tamlen’s when you put me next to him, would you. I know it’ll give him no end of grief to know I got the better of him at very the end.” She chuckled wryly, and Elias found himself smiling.

Consider it done.

Thanks.” He felt her shoulder slouch lazily against his as she slid deeper into her seat, and he held his place, letting the old woman rest against him unburdened. The sun was starting to set upon the horizon, casting a deep, bruise like purple across the sky in its darkening descent. “Elias…

Yah.

The two of them stared at the fading light, its dimming glow seemed fitting in a way. “Take a lesson from an old, wise woman; Hold fast to your family, son. There’s nothing so precious in this world, and nothing so fleeting. Promise me you won’t forget that.

I promise.



Elias…

Yah.

Thanks for humoring an old woman in her final moments, lad. You're a good, kid.

If you uh, happen to run across my folks up there, would you..."

"I'll let 'em know you're thinking of them."

Thanks. If you’re ready to take the poison, then so am I.

Oh,” he could feel the old captain’s smile deepening as the last vestiges of light grew faint and feeble in the distance.

I took that twenty chimes ago, son.
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One Last Goodbye (Elias)

Postby Okara on July 26th, 2018, 6:16 pm

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Karyk



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If you should return, please update your ledger for living expenses and either resubmit the thread or grade yourself.


Elias Caldera

Rhetoric 2
Interrogation 1
Auristics 1
Socialization 1

Merrill Corwood: Marked by Viratas
Merrill Corwood: Wants to Die
Corwood Family History
Truth About the Djed Storm
Ivak’s Release
Leo Varniak: Champion of Ivak
Leo Varniak: Ivak’s Liberator
Leo Varniak: He Who Sundered the World
Akvin: God of Creativity
Xhyvas: God of Transcendence
Ssena: Goddess of Fear
Ssena: Was Once Myleena Vos, Voice of Rhysol
Glav Navik: The New God of Peace
Sylir: Reborn
Ravok: No Prayer Goes Unnoticed
Advice: Hold Fast to Your Family

Rewards/Penalties/Notes
(+) Inventory - book: The Viratassa
When you start to get so specific about what you want, it may be time to get that grader medal ;). It’s unfortunate that Karyk couldn’t finish the thread with you, but you wrapped it up nicely. Elias certainly learned about quite a few important things and I thought you wrote the interaction between him and Merrill very beautifully. After reading several of your threads now where Elias has been very violent or cold, it’s nice to see the friendlier side of him which adds a lot of depth to his personality. He’s clearly been effectively developed to be a complex character. Nice thread. Let me know if you think I’ve missed anything.


Please edit your post in your grade request to reflect that it has been graded. PM me with any questions.

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