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Reave
I thought for the new year I would open one of these for my syssin. If you have interacted with her or would like to, feel free to drop a note 💙
Including a commission (Credited to an artist named Shiceru) I had done of an outfit the lovely Kaiara crafted for me.
Including a commission (Credited to an artist named Shiceru) I had done of an outfit the lovely Kaiara crafted for me.
Feirenz Ourborian tells you, "Kids these days...nobody talks face to face anymore! You're all buried nose deep in your telepathy!"
2
Comments
@Aeryx I'm glad you "branched out" and interacted with Reave from a neutral position. Honestly, while I enjoy conflict, it is very rare that I get to sit and chat with the other party. As you stayed true to your character, I enjoyed learning more about the divine he served. Thank you again!
Also, the war was incredible and I'm happy I could be a quiet part of its story!
The stars glimmer down, broken only upon occasion by thin wisps of clouds. The ominous silhouettes of three
dark menhirs stake out a bloodied offering ground here, sanctified to the Sun Drinker. Thibideoux, a
calloused millworker takes refuge here. An earnest young server has taken refuge here. Active despite his
years, Elder Ives toils away here, tending to his farmland. Positioned with solemn purpose, a large silver
bell hangs here. Her expression lingering on a distant point, the Elder Esme stands here quietly. A comely,
red-headed innkeeper has taken refuge here. Fur covered in sawdust, a stray sheepdog wanders around rather
unkempt through the village. There are 2 confident village women here. There are 3 brawny villagers of Kald
here. A whittling station stands here, ready for use. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil.
A local rascal has taken refuge in the forest. Several tents have been erected across the forest, a
temporary residence for the villagers taking refuge.
You have emoted: The forest is in a beautiful state in the evening light as the remnants of a past winter
continues to fade away. The melting snow is a striking contrast against the dark trunks rising around the
meandering refugee tents. Reave slinks closer as her footfalls maintain their sureness amongst the familiar
territory.
You have emoted: Within Reave's possession is a long and deep emerald green sash which flutters on an
errant breeze. Her silvery grey eyes flickering as she passes each torch lighting the makeshift path,
bobbing their amber colours within the afternoon and sending signals of smoke to the canopies above. An
exhale lingers as her other hand trails down the length of a length of jade and onyx prayer beads until it
touches an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly with a fondness.
You close your eyes as you reach for the tiny, ironwrought cage and as your fingers caress the metal of the
enclosure, the vivid image of a funereal duskywing butterfly blossoms behind your eyelids.
You reach out and touch an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly.
A shiver of fear crawls down your spine as the image fades away slowly, and you know the attention of the
Dark Matron has been requested.
You have emoted: Reave's somber procession leads her into the central clearing of the tents. Pausing, she
addresses the Elders with a respectful dip of her head before she falls into a silence of mourning as she
watches the misplaced crowd of villagers intermingle around a large bonfire. Her expression flickers,
seemingly overwhelmed, but as she lets her voice fill the crisp air, she radiates confidence beyond her
petite form.
Confidently, you say, "My kin."
You have emoted: Stepping forward, Reave outstretches her arms as she presents a luxurious sash of emerald
silk as a funeral ribbon between her hands. The pain weaving through her eyes was quite fresh, but she
clutches at the ribbon as a last comfort.
Choking on the words, you say, "I would like to offer my own remembrance and gift as a daughter born within
Kald. I do not speak to you as the Warden of Spinesreach or whatever meaningless titles I may have acquired
through the years. You are my kin and I wish to share in your pain, having lost my own mother years ago in
a winter's claiming."
Tone softening, you say, "It was one season ago that a cataclysmic war swept through our home with little
warning like a blizzard. We have felt fear, rage, and despair as a result of this event. However, as a
proud people, we survived and continued to challenge the shadowy monsters who tried to grasp what we
valued. A miracle followed its aftermath, and from the rotted streets we rose. While this season has not
been easy, our spirit is unbreakable. History will not soon forget our strength."
You have emoted: Fatigue and breathlessness racking through her body with the sentinments spoken, Reave
gives herself a moment to exhale as she wills some energy into her movements and turns to hand a luxurious
sash of emerald silk to Esme, an Elder of Kald.
A short burst of adrenaline becoming her motivator, you exclaim, "I dedicate this to those who have fallen,
sacrificing their own safety for us and preventing our customs from extinction. All those who have suffered
from the rot, the infection, the shadow, and the battle we have fought. Even when the fanfare subsides, we
won't forget you. For as long as memory persists, you will survive!"
Firmly, you exclaim, "It is through their sacrifice that a stronger life can flourish!"
Voice thick with a genuine threat of tears, you say, "Let their memory be forever embedded into our minds."
You have emoted: Taking a few retreating steps after saying her peace, Reave dips her head once more
towards Esme, an Elder of Kald and Ives, an Elder of Kald. There were no tears sparking within her eyes as
she bids her final farewell and disappears.
prayto chakrasul:
"I've no idea what a proper remembrance looks like, or how to bury the dead, but this is my birth month and I felt it was fitting to celebrate the strength of Kald on this day.
I no longer despair knowing that their memory is flourishing. That their strength is on display. That they've grown from this. I thank you for your gifts."