A TORCH EXTINGUISHED - 49AC

pkdon

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A TORCH EXTINGUISHED
issued the 16th of the eclipse - 49 AC
From our hands, this statement is not scribed easily. It is with great sorrow that we announce the passing of Godfrey I, King of Calendale. Godfrey, empowered by the Divines, traded his life to rightly end the undead lich which plagued our continent, ensuring peace and the safety of our unified realm. The late King stood steadfast throughout his life, ever the dedicant to his Kingdom, its people, and the faith. In place of the Summer Solstice Ball, a funeral service shall be held to mourn the loss of our King and to remember his great deeds - a paradigm of good. It is asked that those invited are respectful throughout the proceedings. Following the funeral, a year of mourning shall proceed, in honour of the fallen monarch.

INVITATIONS ARE DELIVERED TO THE DENIZENS OF:
All vassals and people of Calendale (Promdor, Vlachia, Elfmarch, and Reyn)

The Kingdom of Shroomden

The Emirate of Qantar,

The Aellen Kingdom,

The Reclamation Collective,

The Triumvirate of Glarenydd,

Heiyeong Village



SIGNED,

Crown Prince of Calendale, Eadwulf of Myrfeld

Untitled_Artwork.png


TODAY (12TH JUNE), 4PM EST, CALENDALE
 

particri

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She knew this day would come... She knew... Something which she would steel her emotions for. To be truthful, she thought perhaps it would be her whom would be the first to go, either it be by childbirth or perhaps from an assault on her life from Death Knights not even a few days ago... Yet there Flieur-Anne stood, her stomach dropping along with her heart. Her mouth grew dry and her whole body froze with the issue in her dainty hands.

Yet the desolation began to feast and claw her insides, a sense of emptiness and destruction prevalent. Flieur had to hold it in.. For her kids.. For her family... For her people... But it was futile.

As her heartstrings snapped a soul wrenching scream of a sob echoed through the barely furnished halls of the new keep. The now Queen Mother had fallen before the fireplace, slicing up her knees upon the splinters of the unswept floors. This was a new era... A new era which she thought would spend in retirement with her other half... Her love.. Her husband..


"Mytra, guide me... Mytra... Mytra guide his soul... Help me.. Help... I continue my promise... I turn to you... Comfort... Please.. Help..."

Her words were soft and broken, desperate not to choke upon her own tongue and tears.


"Godfrey... My love, my heart... Farewell..."
 
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Jentos

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"How dare you." Hissed the man. "How could you !" He spat towards the flames. "How can I still live, when my king has now died. How is it that he should die, and I remain ? Do you not love me ?" he spoke to the flames with wide eyes, clasping at his chest. A shadow fell upon the seer, and he collapsed - with the vision of the dead king burned into his eyes, mind, and heart. His eyes shut, and most fearful of all - Jerom felt cold.
 

Aiylana

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Fræya Iranrois would feel rather indifferent towards this announcement. She actively disagreed with many of Godfrey’s laws, but however takes no pleasure in his death. Her face would remain expressionless as her eyes scan the text, before exhaling softly and returning to her novel.
 
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Ranger, known as Shadow, hobbled over to the table where another Ranger places the missive on the table. As he began to read it. The stick holding him would fall onto the ground as he would collapse into the seat near him, shocked and disheartened that he wasn't able to finish the fight with his King. "A distant journey has left the Grand Kingdom with another loss.. How many more must suffer from the darkness of Enarion..."
 

Tide

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The Lord Chancellor leant back into his chair, eyes half open as the Sun set before him and left his room in shade of darkness. "You were a great king, Godfrey. Some would even say the best." The crippled soldier's gaze fell down upon that of his own son, laid sleeping in a crib. "But more importantly, a father." Jonas bled with painful, shallow words. "-It should have been me, my friend. Ride the skies, my King. I'll take care of things down here in the meanwhile. Sun-speed."
 
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Pyrias

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From Edwyn's Grove, all was silent; the songbirds sang no melodies, for it was clear a time of mourning had dawned upon the kingdom. Deep within the twisting tunnels, however, the sound of innocent chatter resounded off the stone walls. It wasn't until Lalo, the tiny mushroomite donned in a dainty frock had struggled to read the missive delivered to her delegation besides Shroomeden that a sense of realization was brought to light.

Although she didn't entirely understand it, Lalo the Brave trekked forward and informed the others, shattering the blissful ignorance they once possessed. Now, everything truly fell quiet in Edwyn's Grove.
 

Charlemagne

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A northerly wind chases through the valley of Kings. Thatched hovels, people of heart. Towers of stone, warriors of old. Temple of fire, sages cloaked. The wild hunt erupts unto the sky, storm clouds for their steed. The rider adjoins them; welcomed, embraced. Thunder booms overhead.
 

Sukitoru

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The mage is silent, her mind still exhausted. Death followed her closely, and as the winds howled in the north, she found herself lacking guilt. Lacking regret. Her soul was tested in the Hold of Delzoun. It was weighed .. It was measured .. And it was found wanting. She could only hope Godfrey would not haunt her for allowing his marcher lord to perish for her - She was not worth her sacrifice, after all.
 

Pyrias

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Humming to herself, the Wiccan lady gathered bundles of sun-dried herbs off from their shelves, creating a loose tea blend of sorts. One that was recognizable as a family tradition, she was preparing small mesh bags of Buckley sweet-tea as a gift for an upcoming dinner her family was invited to. Yet as she finished securing the various packets and stored them neatly in a container, it wasn't long before the news struck.

Taking the straw hat and intending to sneak into the tea house for extra sugar from her brother Barney, the lady came to a sudden halt at the pamphlet that stood out her. Gripping the container of sweet-tea and sugar cubes, Becky heaved out a sigh of concern as she furrowed her brow. "Ah' sure hope Eadwulf has support in a time like this... ain't righ' for a child such as 'imself t' bear th' weight o' an entire kingdom's expectations on his shoulders," the Wiccan murmured as she stowed away the tea container for now and wandered off to see about what could be done to help the young prince she met before.
"T' think he's around m' sweet songbird's age as well!" Becky exclaimed, disturbed at the thought her own daughter, Berrie, could be in a situation such as Eadwulf's. And once more, before going on her way, the lady thought one last time to herself," Ah' do hope he's given time t' grieve before takin' up th' mantle, a' least...."
 

JaneGold

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"Mytra bless my beloved King's soul, may he rest peacefully in your eternal warmth until the day we all might be graced to see you. Please watch over his family and the kingdom in this somber time." Lady Frieda Orel said, her voice just above a whisper as she finished her nightly prayers to the Gods. The Elfess stood from her kneeling position, a downcast look upon her face. The loss of her husband not even five years ago left a wound in her soul. It heals and it breaks. She loves and she mourns. Lady Frieda went to go check on her sleeping sons; Godfrey and Samuel. The first of which was named in honor of the late King. A ghost of a smile on her face as she watched them sleep. She wondered how many more people she will lose before she herself was taken by Rema. Frieda shook the thought out of her head not needing to sink into her sorrows just yet. She soon left her boys to rest and retired for the night, not before making sure she had clothes appropriate for the funeral of course.
 
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Kaz A. Isilros to his surprise didn't smile at the missive, he thought he would but deep down he knew no ones death should be smiled at "So, King Godfrey is dead. O' what sorrow will befall the lands, and some shall not be affected by that sorrow. I myself won't be." He whispered the words. Kaz then left to go back to the mines.
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"He died a warriors death... that is the only good that came out of this..." Stated Asher Drakon, who then left for his bed to recount his thoughts
 

Impieri

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A figure cloaked and clad in armour emerged from the hold. A sombre expression ensared him beyond his visor as he reflected upon the worthy passing of a paragon. The King who battled so valiantly set an impression upon the unhallowed soldier that fought for tooth and nail beside the brave men of Calendale.
 
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Crusader_uno_

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Uno mourned for his loss for the fallen King, he sat by the Tourney Grounds would pick up his lute and would play a mellow tune to try and lighten his spirit up *Insert Berserk OST*
 

mmjinae

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Asya glances up at the ceiling, sinking deeper into her chair. Godfrey was dead. The man who plagued her people, who massacred the ones she loved, who burned her home down to cinders - he was dead.

The hatred still broiled within her. How could it not? Here was the man who took everything from her, wrenched it from her grasp and tore it to shreds, bit by bit. He hurt so many, persecuted countless mortals - and yet he was dead, like any other man. It was enough to make her laugh.

But she had healed him, back in the depths of Delzoun. She had shown him mercy, even when her magic could not stop his impending doom. She did not know what to feel. For is not a good king one who causes suffering for others? He will be remembered as a paragon of his people, a hero. His sins will be wiped from the minds of mortals, only left to be judged by the ancestors and gods above. His legacy... god, the thought of it. It was enough to make her sick.

But the cycle was ending. Katerina was gone. Godfrey was gone. The war was over. Perhaps, in his passing... the cycle could reach its final conclusion. Maybe, just maybe, all the suffering could be worth it in the end. She can only hope Eadwulf of Myrfeld could be a better man than his father - not just a good king, but a good man. And maybe, many years from now... she could let her hatred rest. She could let herself rest.

But the facts were this: Godfrey was dead. She was glad; she was torn. She was satisfied; she was disappointed. She was filled with grim vindication for the sins he had committed against so many, but she knew also of the glory he had brought to his own people. She doesn't think she could ever understand him.

But she supposes, at the very least, he deserved the rest. He died a hero, after all. She wasn't going to take that away from him.


"What a pain," she murmurs, shutting her eyes.
 

ChefDeuce

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The Promdorian Crusader, Mason Ekene, walked over to the notice board, noticing the missive, he'd read it, a blank and dead expression shown upon his face. The images of the Death Knights and Centipedes that were fought in Delzoun, replayed in his head, along side the images the the king striking down the lich as his heart was ripped from his chest. The crusader would stand there idly, before looking up to the sky, before the words "Thank you, Godfrey" left his mouth.
 

Snavier

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Kinal couldn't help but smile softly from hearing the story of the Fallen King, giving off a low toned chuckle as he inhaled,
"How unfortunate. ."
 

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