[EMPIRE] The Last Visitation

[SamBurke]

The Doge stands near the front of the crowds, speaking solemnly to all those he can shake hands with. "Yes, yes, the announcement will be in a minute... No, it's nothing quite that dramatic, but I do ask that you listen with open heart... Hm?" He turns to his son, Humperdink, whose face is alight with passion.

"Father, are you sure being here instead of at the Capitol is wise? I told you of the work of Columbo, did I not?" His father nodded.

"Dear, Dear, Humperdink, you make me so proud. Once, you were a child, and then a boy. Then, as is the custom, you were made a Prince of Guilder, and I feared that you would never have need to grow past boyhood. But then I did something that you may perhaps have hated: I sent you out beyond our people, to see the world and its histories, its faiths, its love. And upon returning, you were full of the sight of all people, not merely your own.

"That is why I... I give to you all my possessions, all my wealth. You, Humperdink, my beloved son, will lead Guilder. I have but one request of you... Let me whisper it in your ear." "I wish you to spend your days seeking a curse, a powerful and binding force upon men, such as our science and spirits cannot imagine now. This is for the greatest purpose in the history of the world, though I cannot yet tell it. My wishes are hidden, but I trust that you will find them when the time is right. For now..."
Tumberink turned now to the crowd, and stood up on the stage. "We live now in an era of unrest. War and its banners marches over every land, knocks at every door, and chains heavy every heart. We have lots many thousands over these years... And were it my choice, one man were too much." As the Doge speaks, a murmur runs through the crowd, as a single figure clothed in black swathes walks up to the stage, drawing something out of his pocket, is that a...?

No, no dagger, but still death. The figure pulls out a single slip of paper, with one name written, and lays it at Tumberink's feet. "One life, lost, and it did not have to be. But it did not stop at one life. It never seems to, does it?" A second figure climbed the steps behind the Doge, holding another slip. As the figure knelt to place the name, he revealed a line of mourners, faces veiled, carrying their own remembrances.

"Life is destroyed because peoples need "space." Very well for them; no man will begrudge another his place, his home. But how much of the world is tamed, friends? Why think we that there is no resort but open war?" Another line of mourners.

"This week, we shall show the world the cost of its thoughts. I will remember the sacrifices that were made for my own ambition, the men that I have lost. I ask, as you worship, speak, commemorate in your own way: remember the past, and think to the future." He bends down, placing a slip of paper on the growing pile.

"That was my youngest son, James. It was his very first battle in his very first war. It was his very last battle, in his very last war. This week, we will remember every person who has died, and they will all be remembered here. If you have suffered loss, have seen death, do not be afraid to speak. Speak and write, let this open air hear lamentation. There is no wrong in sorrow, friends: if it is with purpose. Each name here, in this Last Visitation, must spur us to an answer. Anything less..." His voice trails off, slowing even further than before, "And we fail." Tumberink chokes back a sob. "I. I failed James."


All religions are given a chance to hold their ceremony, so long as they don't disturb the stacks of paper on the main dais.

[QuintonBeck]

Kilwen and Avie, ever his faithful companion, stood still and quiet as the Doge spoke. Beside Kilwen his daughter,Yelfis, stood stoic, her eyes locked forward. Kilwen thought about the last few years, his wife and Yelfis' mother dying just after her daughter, their only child, had come of age. She must have felt there was nothing left for her to do. She had been a mother, abandoned by Kilwen as a wife, there had been nothing left for her.

He looked down at the paper in his hand, his father's name scrawled across it artistically by an Aloren scholar. He wished he had the right to hold his wife's name but... He looked at Yelfis who held that honor between her fingertips. Avie saw his sideways glance and moved closer to him to comfort him. At least Avie's death would be his to honor, or he would honor Kilwen's as seemed more likely considering the Ignato blood in his veins.

He hoped Yelfis might forgive him before then. She had only come here with him at her Uncle Emperor's bequest and the travel had been cold and silent, no doubt more so than Olwyt's own journey to Sanctuary.

The Doge began to wrap up his speech and the procession the three Imperial representatives began to move forward. Kilwen laid down the parchment bearing the name of the Khan of Khans upon the pile, Yelfis that of her mother, Avie bore a heavy burden of the names of those identified during the battle in Celero and his contribution grew the pile half over.

As they walked they passed near the Doge and paused to console him,

"Blessings of the Great Ancestor upon you," Kilwen and Avie said in unison, Yelfis maintained her deathly silence.

Avie picked up the conversation/prayer alone, "We grieve for all we've lost, but know they go to rejoin the Vast Will and through Him they shall reenter this world."

"My father spoke highly of you Doge," Kilwen said, "And my Brother Emperor too. We pray daily for the violence to end, too many of our people have been lost."

As Kilwen and Mtafiti Barasa conversed with the Doge Yelfis finally spoke, addressing Prince Humperdink, "Your father has outlived many who called him their contemporary," she commented coldly.

[aspi]

At the edge of the crowd stood a man and a woman, hiding from the sun in the shadow of a tree, as even the agreeable climate of Guilder seemed to cause them slight discomfort. They were clad in intricately woven shirts made from feathers, the man's black, the woman's grey. Each of them wore a necklace of red gold and amber, prominently placed atop their shirts. Their plain black hair flowed in the breeze as they stood silently and listened to the Doge. The woman's gaze was focused, the man's wandered from time to time, taking in every detail of the crowd that hailed from even the remotest corners of the world.

After the Doge had finished his speech, the man questioned his companion and after a few moments, she produced parchment and a quill, then handed it to him. On it, he wrote three names in concise letters.

Venn of the First Tear
Kyal of the Third Tear
Nyonan of Irfrin's Cauldron

He stepped towards the stage and the pile upon it, calmly awaiting his turn. When he had the chance to do so without bothering anyone, he gently placed the piece of parchment on on the pile. In a melodic, frugal tongue he spoke a single sentence.
All of Wenyavuk thanks you, my champion brothers.
After another moment, he returned to the woman who had been waiting silently below the branches of the tree, from where they continued to observe the ceremony.

[Silverbit]

A party of stout dwarves had come up from Elbaraz earlier. Tuthin son of Razkai came forth, and held in his hands a bronze phylactery, studded with crudely worked Mithril. The dwarves still hadn't mastered the forging of it.

Tuthin speaks quietly to the Doge, or his son:
"This bronze container bears but one name; Razkai the Elder, of the Unbroken Line Clan. He died soon after he retired, and he never did show you around Razdis. Let this be a substitute; the bronze represents the tin and copper beneath us. A share of them is granted to Guilder, to cement our friendship. And the Mithril is Razdis; your invitation is extended to whomever of your family may make the trip, Doge. We await that day with pleasure."

[SamBurke]

A party of stout dwarves had come up from Elbaraz earlier. Tuthin son of Razkai came forth, and held in his hands a bronze phylactery, studded with crudely worked Mithril. The dwarves still hadn't mastered the forging of it.

Tuthin speaks quietly to the Doge, or his son:
"This bronze container bears but one name; Razkai the Elder, of the Unbroken Line Clan. He died soon after he retired, and he never did show you around Razdis. Let this be a substitute; the bronze represents the tin and copper beneath us. A share of them is granted to Guilder, to cement our friendship. And the Mithril is Razdis; your invitation is extended to whomever of your family may make the trip, Doge. We await that day with pleasure."
The Doge nods. "It will not be but a few months before I make that voyage... my time is almost up, I feel, and I would like to see your caves before I must sail past the horizon..." He takes the phylactery, and runs his hands over it slowly. "But I've said too much already on that score...

"This container, this bronze, it is excellent worksmanship... An enigma to be sure. One worthy of my son, Humperdink. Have you met him?" With that graceful transition, the Doge steps aside, leaving the young Prince to discuss matters with the Razdis.


At the edge of the crowd stood a man and a woman, hiding from the sun in the shadow of a tree, as even the agreeable climate of Guilder seemed to cause them slight discomfort. They were clad in intricately woven shirts made from feathers, the man's black, the woman's grey. Each of them wore a necklace of red gold and amber, prominently placed atop their shirts. Their plain black hair flowed in the breeze as they stood silently and listened to the Doge. The woman's gaze was focused, the man's wandered from time to time, taking in every detail of the crowd that hailed from even the remotest corners of the world.

After the Doge had finished his speech, the man questioned his companion and after a few moments, she produced parchment and a quill, then handed it to him. On it, he wrote three names in concise letters.

Venn of the First Tear
Kyal of the Third Tear
Nyonan of Irfrin's Cauldron

He stepped towards the stage and the pile upon it, calmly awaiting his turn. When he had the chance to do so without bothering anyone, he gently placed the piece of parchment on on the pile. In a melodic, frugal tongue he spoke a single sentence.
All of Wenyavuk thanks you, my champion brothers.
After another moment, he returned to the woman who had been waiting silently below the branches of the tree, from where they continued to observe the ceremony. Tumberink appeared suddenly beside them, quiet and observing just like the pair. "Hello, dear friends... I welcome you to the Visitation. I am truly sorry about your loss. Would it help to talk?" He takes a seat on the ground, waiting for them to talk, or wish him away.



Kilwen and Avie, ever his faithful companion, stood still and quiet as the Doge spoke. Beside Kilwen his daughter,Yelfis, stood stoic, her eyes locked forward. Kilwen thought about the last few years, his wife and Yelfis' mother dying just after her daughter, their only child, had come of age. She must have felt there was nothing left for her to do. She had been a mother, abandoned by Kilwen as a wife, there had been nothing left for her.

He looked down at the paper in his hand, his father's name scrawled across it artistically by an Aloren scholar. He wished he had the right to hold his wife's name but... He looked at Yelfis who held that honor between her fingertips. Avie saw his sideways glance and moved closer to him to comfort him. At least Avie's death would be his to honor, or he would honor Kilwen's as seemed more likely considering the Ignato blood in his veins.

He hoped Yelfis might forgive him before then. She had only come here with him at her Uncle Emperor's bequest and the travel had been cold and silent, no doubt more so than Olwyt's own journey to Sanctuary.

The Doge began to wrap up his speech and the procession the three Imperial representatives began to move forward. Kilwen laid down the parchment bearing the name of the Khan of Khans upon the pile, Yelfis that of her mother, Avie bore a heavy burden of the names of those identified during the battle in Celero and his contribution grew the pile half over.

As they walked they passed near the Doge and paused to console him,

"Blessings of the Great Ancestor upon you," Kilwen and Avie said in unison, Yelfis maintained her deathly silence.

Avie picked up the conversation/prayer alone, "We grieve for all we've lost, but know they go to rejoin the Vast Will and through Him they shall reenter this world."

"My father spoke highly of you Doge," Kilwen said, "And my Brother Emperor too. We pray daily for the violence to end, too many of our people have been lost."

As Kilwen and Mtafiti Barasa conversed with the Doge Yelfis finally spoke, addressing Prince Humperdink, "Your father has outlived many who called him their contemporary," she commented coldly.
"He has indeed, lady of the Ignato. His life is long and quite blessed, though it draws to a close. But this Visitation is for the living, just as the dead, is it not? Your prayers are good, and wise, but there is more that can be done. There is action. That is the question my father has posed: what action will you take? How will the living understand the dead?"

[HisHolyAngel]

((not spending any diplomacy points on this, but fluff is always fun))
EDIT: I LIED I'LL SPEND A POINT!

An entourage of black clad Sycians enters the proceedings. Leading them, the only one dressed in white, Fabula looked as radiant and blessed as ever. Her followers stopped wherever they could find a place in the crowd. She continued onto the stage (or place or thing or whatever). She pulled a slip of paper out of her sleeve.
"May Yphine lead all the lost souls to the never-ending paradise."
The paper slips from her hand and falls to the floor. She walks away, leaving it there, wide open and all alone.

Harihal.

[QuintonBeck]

"The prayers of my father and his...adviser are not mine," Yelfis said, glancing towards the two older men who were bowing to the departing Doge and moving along with the procession, leaving her to her own devises, "I intend to take life by the tusks and live it to its fullest, as your father has," she looked at the Doge again, "You Guilderene folk live long and prosperously. I know why, it is the sea. We know of the sea, but cannot brave it, and our lives are shortened for it. My father thinks I was sent here by my Uncle Emperor to repair our relationship, but that is something that passed with my mother. No, Uncle sent me because I asked him to let me join you, and in return for allowing this he asked me a favor to do him in return." Yelfis pulled a scroll case marked with the Imperial Insignia from her satchel and handed it to the prince,

"Inside are terms for an agreement to trade Woodwind Boars for the technology of ocean faring ships as well as a letter freeing me from obligation of returning home and offering my hand in marriage to a Guilderene Prince of your choosing that I might live here amongst those who the Empire calls one of our closest allies and that I might be free from the presence of my father and his Radurjic companion."

[Zap Dynamic]

Crying was not common among the Raaneki. Hardship was as certain in the Painted Lands as anywhere else, but people were encouraged to shed their tears and move toward new days full of laughter.

Prince Tikta felt as though he would never laugh again. Princess Cassandra had been the one to convince him to come, but her usual fire was subdued by tragedy not a single month before they left for Guilder. The years had weathered her, but she stood tall beside her husband, chin held high against the sobriety of the Last Visitation.

The plan had been for Prince Tikta and Princess Cassandra--ardent voices for Raaneka's ancestors--to travel to Guilder to see the devastation of war on the faces of old friends and to offer solace and counsel where they were needed. They had secured provisions of wine to share with those in attendance, for Raaneki Heartwine heals all hurts.

Prince Tikta let the tears flow. He sobbed, and pulled at his braids, and moaned. His wife stiffened by his side. Prince Tikta loved her stillness and her strength, but he would forever marvel that the same worldliness which taught her so much about the people of Telluris also shut her off from them. It was one of the many ways in which they were different. Prince Tikta had no cares for the looks he drew as his sobbing heaved up and out of him, and Princess Cassandra did.

They moved forward together, Tikta's arm draped over his wife. Their joined hands cradled two slips of paper as they approached the dais.

Sirius and Urani, twin brother and sister, had been so carefree before the Thirty Day Plague. Mother and father could do nothing but stand by their bedside as they wasted away. They had seen no more than 8 summers by the time they met their end. They died, and a week later their mother and father left for the Last Visitation, now with a purpose more terrible and personal than any nightmare they could divine.

"My children!" Tikta cried as he fell to his knees. "Avoid war. Seek pleasure. Live in fellowship. What good amid these, when innocents can yet be carried away? Without cause? Without hope?" Princess Cassandra kissed him on the forehead. Hollow, numb, the two of them placed the names upon the dais.

Prince Tikta could not be moved, and Princess Cassandra stood tall and firm as a pine at his side.

[aspi]

Tumberink appeared suddenly beside them, quiet and observing just like the pair. "Hello, dear friends... I welcome you to the Visitation. I am truly sorry about your loss. Would it help to talk?" He takes a seat on the ground, waiting for them to talk, or wish him away.
Both turn around, obviously a little surprised but smiling amicably. The woman bows somewhat awkwardly and replies "We thank you. I am Ania of the Na'nuk and this is Näiyop an Kal, the man who discovered the south and Chieftain of the Na'nuk. Please forgive him for not addressing you directly. He comprehends the meaning of your words but is not yet well versed in the southern tongues and does not wish to offend you by accident. The men which he remembers today were not is friends or family, but even while he hardly knew them, they are his", she pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, before she continues "his equals in spirit. Where he succeeded, they never returned and it is their sacrifice that allows him to stand here this day, in a place where his breath cannot be seen in the air."

After Ania ends, the man bows as well, then speaks a few short sentences in his natural tongue. Ania translates for Tumberink, "The chieftain wishes you to know that it is a beautiful occasion for him to meet you and complements you on the ceremony. It is good to remember those who helped us along the way, even if they parted from it long ago. He hopes that maybe some day our actions on this day may be remembered in such a spirit as well."

[Slayerofundead]

Orgnar with his six guards approached the Dodge of Guilder. He pulled an Ivory Drinking horn from his belt filled with mead an said praise to the honored dead may there next life be full of riches an glory he then pored the mead on the groundthis is my offering Then the Orcs made there way to there Elephants an unloaded barrels of mead. Inviting every one around them to drink in the name of the honored dead.

[QuintonBeck]

((Ignore my last post Sam since you don't actually have ocean faring tech you swindler :smallwink:))

[zabbarot]

The war had gone as well as a war really could for Genivana. The troops had missed out on the worst of the fighting. At least the mess was winding down at last.

Tendaji approached the alter with only a short list.

Mostly infantry men who had gotten sick in the cold of the north. If he remembered correctly only 3 of them had even suffered stab wounds, and of those one had picked a fight with an officer over some trivial garbage. Nothing worth dying over. Hopefully he'd have the chance to learn something next time around, or at least be something harmless. Like a tree. That wouldn't be so bad. He'd still be thick though.

Tendaji smiled at his own wit.

No, no... this is a solemn affair. People are grieving. Wipe that smirk off your face. There, proper serious now. Alright what am I supposed to do here.

He stared at the paper for a moment, squinting to read. His sight was slipping lately. Getting old had it's pitfalls. He looked around a bit then pretended like he knew what he was doing the whole time. He set his list with the other stacks of paper and stepped away from the dais. The two mashahidi who had come with him and his family mingled with the mourners offering condolences as they could and promises of another life where it seemed appropriate. Tendaji on the other hand moved to get out of the way.

[Zap Dynamic]

After mourning for several minutes, Prince Tikta and Princess Cassandra made their way to the orcs from Grmanhil. "Dear friends," Prince Tikta said, his eyes still red and swollen. "We thank you for your generosity. You know the comfort of drink in sorrowful times. May you know greater honor in death than you ever could in life, when the time comes." They drank with the orcs all night, but their sorrows never strayed far from their thoughts.

[Slayerofundead]

After mourning for several minutes, Prince Tikta and Princess Cassandra made their way to the orcs from Grmanhil. "Dear friends," Prince Tikta said, his eyes still red and swollen. "We thank you for your generosity. You know the comfort of drink in sorrowful times. May you know greater honor in death than you ever could in life, when the time comes." They drank with the orcs all night, but their sorrows never strayed far from their thoughts.

my dear friend I know that know drink or gift can heal ones heart from a grate loss but I have gifts for you. Orgnar hands the prince an princess each an Ivory Drinking horn let this be a sign of our houses friendship

[Zap Dynamic]

my dear friend I know that know drink or gift can heal ones heart from a grate loss but I have gifts for you. Orgnar hands the prince an princess each an Ivory Drinking horn let this be a sign of our houses friendship

"Thank you," Princess Cassandra said, accepting the horns as fresh tears came into her husband's eyes. "These will be a treasure of our household for all time."

She filled them with mead and gave one to Prince Tikta. "To which of the honored dead do you send your honor, Chieftain? Or do you praise them all together? I have not learned of your religion."

[SamBurke]

((not spending any diplomacy points on this, but fluff is always fun))
EDIT: I LIED I'LL SPEND A POINT!

An entourage of black clad Sycians enters the proceedings. Leading them, the only one dressed in white, Fabula looked as radiant and blessed as ever. Her followers stopped wherever they could find a place in the crowd. She continued onto the stage (or place or thing or whatever). She pulled a slip of paper out of her sleeve.
"May Yphine lead all the lost souls to the never-ending paradise."
The paper slips from her hand and falls to the floor. She walks away, leaving it there, wide open and all alone. As she walks away, both Tumberink and the Doge-inheritor note her passing, and equal sorrow, and make a note to speak to her later. Who indeed was she, this enigma, dressed as if from the far North? Many strange peoples had come... and it made Humperdink most glad. He made it a point, at the earliest opportunity, to seek out Fabula, hoping to speak with her.


"The prayers of my father and his...adviser are not mine," Yelfis said, glancing towards the two older men who were bowing to the departing Doge and moving along with the procession, leaving her to her own devises, "I intend to take life by the tusks and live it to its fullest, as your father has," she looked at the Doge again, "You Guilderene folk live long and prosperously. I know why, it is the sea. We know of the sea, but cannot brave it, and our lives are shortened for it. My father thinks I was sent here by my Uncle Emperor to repair our relationship, but that is something that passed with my mother. No, Uncle sent me because I asked him to let me join you, and in return for allowing this he asked me a favor to do him in return." Yelfis pulled a scroll case marked with the Imperial Insignia from her satchel and handed it to the prince,

"Inside are terms for an agreement to trade Woodwind Boars for the technology of ocean faring ships as well as a letter freeing me from obligation of returning home and offering my hand in marriage to a Guilderene Prince of your choosing that I might live here amongst those who the Empire calls one of our closest allies and that I might be free from the presence of my father and his Radurjic companion." Tumberink nods, motioning for the treaty to be taken away by one of the administrative Princes, out of sight of the solemn affair. "It is good to see the people of Woodwind... I know war is a great part of your lands, but I wonder if there are not other ways to satisfy the desires of men. As you say, those of the sea live long, and those who go abroad do not die of swords at home. Perhaps you would be willing to send folk to the new lands of the Guilderene Expanses... in the south is great opportunity for adventuresome men, strong of arm. Think on these things, think on an answer, perhaps?"



Crying was not common among the Raaneki. Hardship was as certain in the Painted Lands as anywhere else, but people were encouraged to shed their tears and move toward new days full of laughter.

Prince Tikta felt as though he would never laugh again. Princess Cassandra had been the one to convince him to come, but her usual fire was subdued by tragedy not a single month before they left for Guilder. The years had weathered her, but she stood tall beside her husband, chin held high against the sobriety of the Last Visitation.

The plan had been for Prince Tikta and Princess Cassandra--ardent voices for Raaneka's ancestors--to travel to Guilder to see the devastation of war on the faces of old friends and to offer solace and counsel where they were needed. They had secured provisions of wine to share with those in attendance, for Raaneki Heartwine heals all hurts.

Prince Tikta let the tears flow. He sobbed, and pulled at his braids, and moaned. His wife stiffened by his side. Prince Tikta loved her stillness and her strength, but he would forever marvel that the same worldliness which taught her so much about the people of Telluris also shut her off from them. It was one of the many ways in which they were different. Prince Tikta had no cares for the looks he drew as his sobbing heaved up and out of him, and Princess Cassandra did.

They moved forward together, Tikta's arm draped over his wife. Their joined hands cradled two slips of paper as they approached the dais.

Sirius and Urani, twin brother and sister, had been so carefree before the Thirty Day Plague. Mother and father could do nothing but stand by their bedside as they wasted away. They had seen no more than 8 summers by the time they met their end. They died, and a week later their mother and father left for the Last Visitation, now with a purpose more terrible and personal than any nightmare they could divine.

"My children!" Tikta cried as he fell to his knees. "Avoid war. Seek pleasure. Live in fellowship. What good amid these, when innocents can yet be carried away? Without cause? Without hope?" Princess Cassandra kissed him on the forehead. Hollow, numb, the two of them placed the names upon the dais.

Prince Tikta could not be moved, and Princess Cassandra stood tall and firm as a pine at his side.
It is not Tumberink, nor even the Doge-inheritor Humperdink, who comes to greet them. It is a humble, short man with a little plate of glass in front of his eyes. "I am Columbo.. uh, uh, Fiassa. I saw you here, and, well... I knew a Raneeki woman, once. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. She could only talk of love, and happiness, and family, joy all the day long. I've... hrm, always wanted to see more of her people. You seem like those who truly understand what it means to be, well, human."


Both turn around, obviously a little surprised but smiling amicably. The woman bows somewhat awkwardly and replies "We thank you. I am Ania of the Na'nuk and this is Näiyop an Kal, the man who discovered the south and Chieftain of the Na'nuk. Please forgive him for not addressing you directly. He comprehends the meaning of your words but is not yet well versed in the southern tongues and does not wish to offend you by accident. The men which he remembers today were not is friends or family, but even while he hardly knew them, they are his", she pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, before she continues "his equals in spirit. Where he succeeded, they never returned and it is their sacrifice that allows him to stand here this day, in a place where his breath cannot be seen in the air."

After Ania ends, the man bows as well, then speaks a few short sentences in his natural tongue. Ania translates for Tumberink, "The chieftain wishes you to know that it is a beautiful occasion for him to meet you and complements you on the ceremony. It is good to remember those who helped us along the way, even if they parted from it long ago. He hopes that maybe some day our actions on this day may be remembered in such a spirit as well." Tumberink nods. "That is the only power a true man wields: the betterment, the memory, the impact upon the future. Let him always know this goal, and he will never be far from greatness. Such is what I come to realize, and such is, in time, what I hope to show and tell to all.

"But come, I have heard but little of the far northern lands... is it not a great hardship upon your tribes? Yet you are mighty, well capable of withstanding it. There must be a great tale there, with some cause for memory, as well?"


Orgnar with his six guards approached the Doge of Guilder. He pulled an Ivory Drinking horn from his belt filled with mead an said praise to the honored dead may there next life be full of riches an glory he then pored the mead on the groundthis is my offering Then the Orcs made there way to there Elephants an unloaded barrels of mead. Inviting every one around them to drink in the name of the honored dead. "AH! The traditions of the folk content to live an easier, straightforward life. Some days all I wish is a few barrels of ale. Thank you kindly for your gifts. I recommend you to my son Humperdink, when he finishes over there, as he would be delighted to hear of your lands, and know more about your peoples."



((Ignore my last post Sam since you don't actually have ocean faring tech you swindler :smallwink:))




[I]The war had gone as well as a war really could for Genivana. The troops had missed out on the worst of the fighting. At least the mess was winding down at last.

Tendaji approached the alter with only a short list.

Mostly infantry men who had gotten sick in the cold of the north. If he remembered correctly only 3 of them had even suffered stab wounds, and of those one had picked a fight with an officer over some trivial garbage. Nothing worth dying over. Hopefully he'd have the chance to learn something next time around, or at least be something harmless. Like a tree. That wouldn't be so bad. He'd still be thick though.

Tendaji smiled at his own wit.

No, no... this is a solemn affair. People are grieving. Wipe that smirk off your face. There, proper serious now. Alright what am I supposed to do here.

He stared at the paper for a moment, squinting to read. His sight was slipping lately. Getting old had it's pitfalls. He looked around a bit then pretended like he knew what he was doing the whole time. He set his list with the other stacks of paper and stepped away from the dais. The two mashahidi who had come with him and his family mingled with the mourners offering condolences as they could and promises of another life where it seemed appropriate. Tendaji on the other hand moved to get out of the way. "There are many things we regret, are there not? I am Humperdink, son of Tumberink. Well met, Tendaji of Radjura, for I do know one thing which I now regret. My father had arranged for me to become one of the Seekers, for your Codex... yet, in the foolishness of my youth, I believed there was no need for religion, no need for anything, in fact. Do you ever feel that your time has been wasted, because you did not see your great revelation until too late?"

[QuintonBeck]

Tumberink nods, motioning for the treaty to be taken away by one of the administrative Princes, out of sight of the solemn affair. "It is good to see the people of Woodwind... I know war is a great part of your lands, but I wonder if there are not other ways to satisfy the desires of men. As you say, those of the sea live long, and those who go abroad do not die of swords at home. Perhaps you would be willing to send folk to the new lands of the Guilderene Expanses... in the south is great opportunity for adventuresome men, strong of arm. Think on these things, think on an answer, perhaps?"

[I do have the tech. Made the roll to steal it from Wombat a few rounds ago, and had his permission to do so from round 1. Link/references available if needed.]

((You'll probably have to get them, Wombat, Morph, and the tables all say you don't have them. You'll have to straighten it out with them. I thought you had them, but everyone's been saying you didn't.))

"Few would be willing to make the journey across the continent as I have, and if my offer is to be accepted I shall not see the land of my birth until my death," Yelfis said, wondering if the Doge had understood her clearly, "I seek to join Guilder, join the family of the Doge. It is my wish and the wish of my Uncle that I do so. With your ships perhaps our lands may become more akin to your own, but for me I do not desire to see them develop, I wish to see what a nation of the sea feels like. To live it first hand.

[aspi]

Tumberink nods. "That is the only power a true man wields: the betterment, the memory, the impact upon the future. Let him always know this goal, and he will never be far from greatness. Such is what I come to realize, and such is, in time, what I hope to show and tell to all.

"But come, I have heard but little of the far northern lands... is it not a great hardship upon your tribes? Yet you are mighty, well capable of withstanding it. There must be a great tale there, with some cause for memory, as well?"
The two are happy to accept Tumberinks invitation, walking along side him as they talk. Before Ania gets a chance to respond to Tumberink's flattering remark, Näiyops warm and disarmingly modest laugh interrupts her. He answers Tumberink directly "It is not might that makes us withstand the cold, just the desire to live. We are fortunate to be sheltered.". Ania is a little surprised at her brother's reaction and adds "My brother is being modest. There are those of us such as him who brave the cold so most of us do not have to. But you are correct. While there is much beauty to be found in the simplicity of the north, there is also hardship. Much of the things you are blessed with are rare in the north." She picks up a handful of dirt from a nearby patch of green and crumbles it in her hand. The Tears provide us with a warm place to lay our heads, warm water and nurishment, but they are small compared to the frozen wasteland around them. Ground that can be worked is limited, as are the varieties of plants it can sustain. We need what little thawed ground can be worked to grow crops and frozen ground does not surrender it's riches." She looks at Tumberink directly, "This is one of the reasons we are visiting the south. Acquiring a source of metals for the construction of tools would go a long way towards easing these hardships. Guilder seems to be fueled by trade and we hope to find someone who could supply our tribes. Since you must be well connected, could we ask you to assist us in this?"

[zabbarot]

"There are many things we regret, are there not? I am Humperdink, son of Tumberink. Well met, Tendaji of Radjura, for I do know one thing which I now regret. My father had arranged for me to become one of the Seekers, for your Codex... yet, in the foolishness of my youth, I believed there was no need for religion, no need for anything, in fact. Do you ever feel that your time has been wasted, because you did not see your great revelation until too late?"

"Regrets? Eh? Oh... well met! You're that dashing young fellow my cousin ran off with at the ball so long ago. Time hasn't been so kind to either of us eh?" Tendaji's long dreadlocks were grey through and through, though it did look striking against his dark skin. "Don't feel so bad about the Codex. My father found other writers. Most of the seekers where Genivanans who traveled for the codex. Young men who really just wanted to get away from home. And don't worry about youthful foolishness. I thought my father was going mad until he disappeared into the sky. Ancestors, if I hadn't seen it myself I still wouldn't believe it." Tendaji looked around the room. "Is there somewhere we could sit?"

[Zap Dynamic]

It is not Tumberink, nor even the Doge-inheritor Humperdink, who comes to greet them. It is a humble, short man with a little plate of glass in front of his eyes. "I am Columbo.. uh, uh, Fiassa. I saw you here, and, well... I knew a Raneeki woman, once. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. She could only talk of love, and happiness, and family, joy all the day long. I've... hrm, always wanted to see more of her people. You seem like those who truly understand what it means to be, well, human."

Prince Tikta took the old man's hands in his own. "Well met, Columbo Fiassa. This is my wife, Cassandra. I am Tikta Satato. Many thanks for your praise!" He turned slightly, muttering "Would that is sounded less like a eulogy."

The Prince shook his head. "My apologies. Among the Raaneki, we say 'even the rain wants to be greeted with a smile.' How else could we live, with so much beauty in the world, and with many friends so near?" The usual words fell flat in the face of his loss. The usual words always did. "But tell us, pray, who do you mourn at this solemn place? We would raise a goblet in their memory."

[TheWombatOfDoom]

Lyra listens to the Doge's speech about death, and instantly regrets being amoung those in attendance. I shouldn't be here. I'm not going to be able to keep it together. Lyra looks around herself self conciously, knowing that amongst this room of rulers, tears would only mean weakness. Still, a tear began to run out the corner of her eye as the Doge welled up, and soon quiet, stinging tears ran down her face, and into her navy robes. She refused to acknowledge them, and did not dry her face. Instead, she held her head high, chin up, and proudly strode to the pile of black cloth, and joined the line of mourners. When it was her turn to place the cloth, she did so tenderly, ignoring everything else but the task. "Goodbye Father. I love you." He is safe now. He is with mother. Goodbye.

She then turned to the Doge, his frail and old body resigned to the sadness of his late son. She looked upon him with sympathy. No old man should outlive his son. She couldn't imagine the pain of losing her own son. Losing her father had been devestating. She walked over to the Doge, placed a hand on his shoulder, and looked into his eyes.

"I am sorry for your loss. You did well here."

[Morph Bark]

In the long line of people who've come to pay their respects, a monk in faded orange and ivory robes--with sleeves, unusual for those of the Lord of Fire--awaits his turn. When he arrives at the front, he holds up the slip of paper he carries with a quivering underlip that he bits to stop it, hiding underneath his thick moustache. He ascends the steps as he holds his head low, his head tattoos old and faded beneath a layer of downy hair. He puts down the slip of paper and gives it a caress, one last time, before rising and turning around. The monk slips his hood back on as he descends the steps again, casting a sidelong glance to the Doge and Doge-aspirant. He'd talk to them later, perhaps, but soon.



Yosa Cedro

[HisHolyAngel]

As she walks away, both Tumberink and the Doge-inheritor note her passing, and equal sorrow, and make a note to speak to her later. Who indeed was she, this enigma, dressed as if from the far North? Many strange peoples had come... and it made Humperdink most glad. He made it a point, at the earliest opportunity, to seek out Fabula, hoping to speak with her.

She moves towards another portion of the room where she kneels, and gives herself a short period of silent and personal worship. After which, she stands up, and proceeds to try and associate with others who have come to remember.

[QuintonBeck]

By the Ancestor, if it isn't Mosi's son!" Avie said quietly to Kilwen at his left.

Kilwen just nodded, his dark face lighter as he looked at his daughter speaking to the Doge. She seemed to be, offering something? Offering herself? What in the world was she doing?

"You know, Mosi is said to be rebo-" Avies tropped as he noticed Kilwen's face, "What's wrong?" he asked, taking Kilwen's hand to draw his reverie away from his daughter.

"She's not coming back with us," Kilwen replied softly as his brain put the pieces together.

That's why Olwyt had granted her permission to go on this journey. It wasn't concern for his brother's relationship with his estranged daughter. It wasn't to honor the loss of his wife and her mother. It had all been a ploy. One Yelfis had been in on no doubt. Kilwen's face began to twist and contort in anger and sadness.

"The Great Ancestor binds us all, no matter the distance," Avie said, trying to calm his companion.

"This truly is a last visitation then," Kilwen said, a lump in his throat, "But I shall most certainly have one more visitation with my brother."

"Come now," Avie soothed, It is not your brother that made her choose to leave. Her mother's death was hard on her and now you and I..." Avie trailed off.

Kilwen knew Avie was right, it seemed he always was, but that didn't make the hurt feel any less. Still. He took a deep breath,

"Perhaps the Great Ancestor will allow me to do better next time," he said, finally turning to look at Avie and smile.

Avie returned the smile and nodded, "Now perhaps we ought to talk with the others here. We do represent Radurja, it is our place to console those whom have felt loss."

"Of course," Kilwen nodded as they moved out into the crowd.

Kilwen and Avie moved as one towards the strange northern woman who seemed to somehow embody the ice and snows of winter even within the warmth of the room.

"Blessings of the Great Ancestor upon you," Kilwen and Avie said, bowing their heads towards the woman.

"You stand out amongst the rest as a woman of holy bearing," Kilwen said, "Yet I do not recognize you nor your accoutrements as those of the Lord of Fire or the Great Ancestor. Might I inquire as to who or what you worship and perhaps to your origin? Allow me to start us on equal footing, we are Watafiti of Radurja, I am Mtafiti Ignato of Woodwind and this is Mtafiti Barasa of Genivana."

[SamBurke]

((You'll probably have to get them, Wombat, Morph, and the tables all say you don't have them. You'll have to straighten it out with them. I thought you had them, but everyone's been saying you didn't.))

"Few would be willing to make the journey across the continent as I have, and if my offer is to be accepted I shall not see the land of my birth until my death," Yelfis said, wondering if the Doge had understood her clearly, "I seek to join Guilder, join the family of the Doge. It is my wish and the wish of my Uncle that I do so. With your ships perhaps our lands may become more akin to your own, but for me I do not desire to see them develop, I wish to see what a nation of the sea feels like. To live it first hand. [OOC: Official Word-of-Morph is that I have them, because of successful roll. But, I also accept the trade. Yelfis will marry a Prince of Guilder... I do have Columbo Fiassa, who's going to be a major-ish character for the next 10-15 rounds in Guilder. How's that?]

"You are a most stunning young woman," says the Doge with a wry smile for such an old man. "I think that your spirit of adventure requires you to have the right sort of prince however. In Guilder, we find the man who will fit the woman, and the woman who will make the man... and I know just the fellow. He's an adventurer, though quiet, and will do great things for those who listen. He'll take you around the world... but I think he needs your help, too. He's around here... AH! Prince Columbo! Come, meet the Princess, from the Ignato Empire."

A shy man, with a sheet of glass resting by wires in front of his eyes, approaches. "Uh... hello, your grace."


The two are happy to accept Tumberinks invitation, walking along side him as they talk. Before Ania gets a chance to respond to Tumberink's flattering remark, Näiyops warm and disarmingly modest laugh interrupts her. He answers Tumberink directly "It is not might that makes us withstand the cold, just the desire to live. We are fortunate to be sheltered.". Ania is a little surprised at her brother's reaction and adds "My brother is being modest. There are those of us such as him who brave the cold so most of us do not have to. But you are correct. While there is much beauty to be found in the simplicity of the north, there is also hardship. Much of the things you are blessed with are rare in the north." She picks up a handful of dirt from a nearby patch of green and crumbles it in her hand. The Tears provide us with a warm place to lay our heads, warm water and nurishment, but they are small compared to the frozen wasteland around them. Ground that can be worked is limited, as are the varieties of plants it can sustain. We need what little thawed ground can be worked to grow crops and frozen ground does not surrender it's riches." She looks at Tumberink directly, "This is one of the reasons we are visiting the south. Acquiring a source of metals for the construction of tools would go a long way towards easing these hardships. Guilder seems to be fueled by trade and we hope to find someone who could supply our tribes. Since you must be well connected, could we ask you to assist us in this?"
"Ah, yes! I do believe that I can help you. The copper mines of my people are all tapped out now, but there are many who can mint and forge. I can give you a list of such nations, which will, I believe, be most useful. But I do have one condition... no, make that two.

"First, I have a young mind, a genius of Guilder's Fiassa Family, and I' know he'd love to see your lands... and perhaps, he can show you some of the newest inventions of our Institute. Like this!" He smiles, pulling a small spinning sphere from his pocket. The sphere is spinning on a trail of steam, seemingly without end. "Some days I wish I could stay around to research, but even if it sets back progress, I must move on.

"And that is my other qualification for the list: look to the seas, to the lands, and as little as possible to war. Agreed?" With that, Tumberink directs one of his scribes to find a copy of the Trade Tomes, and they place it in the hands of Ania.

[OOC: He gives them a list similar to this one (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=16948113&postcount=2), containing all publicly known resources.]


"Regrets? Eh? Oh... well met! You're that dashing young fellow my cousin ran off with at the ball so long ago. Time hasn't been so kind to either of us eh?" Tendaji's long dreadlocks were grey through and through, though it did look striking against his dark skin. "Don't feel so bad about the Codex. My father found other writers. Most of the seekers where Genivanans who traveled for the codex. Young men who really just wanted to get away from home. And don't worry about youthful foolishness. I thought my father was going mad until he disappeared into the sky. Ancestors, if I hadn't seen it myself I still wouldn't believe it." Tendaji looked around the room. "Is there somewhere we could sit?"
"Most certainly, good sir. On the other side of the stage is a resting area. Just remember that there are some secrets there that may not be revealed until later, in order for my father to have chance to sway those watching." Humperdink doesn't have his Father's infectious, sly, grin, saying his piece without much change in face at all.

He leads Tendaji to a few benches behind the stage, and sits down.

"My father, too, had his indiscretions. Guilder did not look to truth... and, I am sad to say, cared little for the ways of the spirits. But, perhaps that can be fixed." As he says this, the first part of the secret becomes obvious. Men come walking past with barrels of oil, and you detect a faint scent of... bloodfire? Just a few drops here and there, but it's a dangerous amount.

"My father has his own plans, and he wants to go out memorably, too, if he can."




Prince Tikta took the old man's hands in his own. "Well met, Columbo Fiassa. This is my wife, Cassandra. I am Tikta Satato. Many thanks for your praise!" He turned slightly, muttering "Would that is sounded less like a eulogy."

The Prince shook his head. "My apologies. Among the Raaneki, we say 'even the rain wants to be greeted with a smile.' How else could we live, with so much beauty in the world, and with many friends so near?" The usual words fell flat in the face of his loss. The usual words always did. "But tell us, pray, who do you mourn at this solemn place? We would raise a goblet in their memory." "Hmmm...? Oh... I... I'm..." He stutters for a second, and just speaks his mind. "I'm just glad I'm one of the lucky ones! I haven't lost anyone! Uh... I mean... So I can be all the more sorry for you. Yes. Perhaps I'd better take some of that wine?"

[OOC: This was painful even to write. :smalleek: Columbo is an odd character.]


Lyra listens to the Doge's speech about death, and instantly regrets being amoung those in attendance. I shouldn't be here. I'm not going to be able to keep it together. Lyra looks around herself self conciously, knowing that amongst this room of rulers, tears would only mean weakness. Still, a tear began to run out the corner of her eye as the Doge welled up, and soon quiet, stinging tears ran down her face, and into her navy robes. She refused to acknowledge them, and did not dry her face. Instead, she held her head high, chin up, and proudly strode to the pile of black cloth, and joined the line of mourners. When it was her turn to place the cloth, she did so tenderly, ignoring everything else but the task. "Goodbye Father. I love you." He is safe now. He is with mother. Goodbye.

She then turned to the Doge, his frail and old body resigned to the sadness of his late son. She looked upon him with sympathy. No old man should outlive his son. She couldn't imagine the pain of losing her own son. Losing her father had been devestating. She walked over to the Doge, placed a hand on his shoulder, and looked into his eyes.

"I am sorry for your loss. You did well here."
Tumberink looks up, and pulls two bronze, sheathed, swords from behind the podium. "I did, did I? Look at these... these were the reason I became ruler. Did you know, I killed the last Doge in single combat? First man since the Calamity to use the rules, and I just took over.

"Sent these same swords to the Heartwastes, and... it was Guilderene bronze, just like this, that killed James. So I'm glad I did well here; I truly am. But there is always more to do, isn't there?

"Your father new that... he was a great man, Lyra. I cannot say enough about his manner, his demeanor. My sea-peoples will hear the stories about him. They'll hear them because he is to be their hero. That, Lyra, is what a leader should be: a man who every other man can follow, can emulate, and create thus a great, sanctified city on a hill. Imagine! Imagine! A nation, town, even a ship full of such men. They would bring the world to its knees in sorrow, they would bring peace...

"I know that your father made the choice of death, but some days, I think that we need more of him. So many more."


In the long line of people who've come to pay their respects, a monk in faded orange and ivory robes--with sleeves, unusual for those of the Lord of Fire--awaits his turn. When he arrives at the front, he holds up the slip of paper he carries with a quivering underlip that he bits to stop it, hiding underneath his thick moustache. He ascends the steps as he holds his head low, his head tattoos old and faded beneath a layer of downy hair. He puts down the slip of paper and gives it a caress, one last time, before rising and turning around. The monk slips his hood back on as he descends the steps again, casting a sidelong glance to the Doge and Doge-aspirant. He'd talk to them later, perhaps, but soon.

The Doge well notes the monk, but leaves the conversation to his son Humperdink. The Prince finds the time to mourn with him and talk as the sun sets. "I wonder how many times."

"I mean... how many times is the Avatar's name in that pile? How many people mourn the loss of such a great man? I know I have said a prayer over him today, and I know I am not alone.

"It is good to see one of the monks here... I wonder about your thought on my offer, so many years ago?"

The Announcement Nears
If anyone wants to do a service, now is the time. I plan on running this thread into next round, if that's good, or I can make the Doge's Announcement on Monday, if that works.

Young men go through the crowd, asking for priests, monks, or heads of the various faiths to come forward and begin the final service of the Visitation. Conversations still continue at the edges, and the sound of music, chants, or exhortation only punctuate the remembrance of those attending.

It is a shared moment of realization: all peoples are there, and there is no fighting. There doesn't need to be any. Peace reigns, simply because it can. What a thought.

[QuintonBeck]

[OOC: Official Word-of-Morph is that I have them, because of successful roll. But, I also accept the trade. Yelfis will marry a Prince of Guilder... I do have Columbo Fiassa, who's going to be a major-ish character for the next 10-15 rounds in Guilder. How's that?]

"You are a most stunning young woman," says the Doge with a wry smile for such an old man. "I think that your spirit of adventure requires you to have the right sort of prince however. In Guilder, we find the man who will fit the woman, and the woman who will make the man... and I know just the fellow. He's an adventurer, though quiet, and will do great things for those who listen. He'll take you around the world... but I think he needs your help, too. He's around here... AH! Prince Columbo! Come, meet the Princess, from the Ignato Empire."

A shy man, with a sheet of glass resting by wires in front of his eyes, approaches. "Uh... hello, your grace."


((Sounds great to me :D Sorry again for having to cut the Visitation from my actions))

"Hello Prince Columbo."

Yelfis had heard of this man and she looked him up and down, his stature was not impressive, his stance weak and he seemed afraid of her, but there was something in his eyes. There was a spark there, adventure, intelligence. She decided he would do.

"We will be married," she stated to Columbo and the Doge.

[aspi]

"Ah, yes! I do believe that I can help you. The copper mines of my people are all tapped out now, but there are many who can mint and forge. I can give you a list of such nations, which will, I believe, be most useful. But I do have one condition... no, make that two.

"First, I have a young mind, a genius of Guilder's Fiassa Family, and I' know he'd love to see your lands... and perhaps, he can show you some of the newest inventions of our Institute. Like this!" He smiles, pulling a small spinning sphere from his pocket. The sphere is spinning on a trail of steam, seemingly without end. "Some days I wish I could stay around to research, but even if it sets back progress, I must move on.

"And that is my other qualification for the list: look to the seas, to the lands, and as little as possible to war. Agreed?" With that, Tumberink directs one of his scribes to find a copy of the Trade Tomes, and they place it in the hands of Ania.
Ania regards the curious object with noticeable fascination. "This is most curious." After inspecting it closer she adds "There are sources of natural steam in Wenyavuk. I would be curious to know what potential your friend sees in them. He is welcome to accompany us when we head back to the north or follow at a later time once we have set up secure trading routes through the ice." She smiles knowingly "But you should warn him... he may not remember what warmth feels like long before he even arrives."

At Tumberinks second request, Näyiop seems relieved and answers simply "Gladly", then adds with a faint smile "Even if there are no seas in the north. Just ice."

[Zap Dynamic]

"Hmmm...? Oh... I... I'm..." He stutters for a second, and just speaks his mind. "I'm just glad I'm one of the lucky ones! I haven't lost anyone! Uh... I mean... So I can be all the more sorry for you. Yes. Perhaps I'd better take some of that wine?"

[OOC: This was painful even to write. :smalleek: Columbo is an odd character.]
The Announcement Nears
If anyone wants to do a service, now is the time. I plan on running this thread into next round, if that's good, or I can make the Doge's Announcement on Monday, if that works.

Young men go through the crowd, asking for priests, monks, or heads of the various faiths to come forward and begin the final service of the Visitation. Conversations still continue at the edges, and the sound of music, chants, or exhortation only punctuate the remembrance of those attending.

It is a shared moment of realization: all peoples are there, and there is no fighting. There doesn't need to be any. Peace reigns, simply because it can. What a thought.

Cassandra watched as the messengers moved through the crowd. She watched as Prince Tikta noticed them, even as she heard the old Guilderene's words. He had gestured to a green glass bottle the size of two fists. It was fastened by a thong to Prince Tikta's belt, and a dark liquid swirled inside. Cassandra didn't need to see her husband's face to know what was coming.

Prince Tikta removed the bottle from his belt, and held it up so Columbo might see it more clearly. "My mother, Aditi, and her husband, Devdan, were raised to Lady and Lord of Raaneka in the 347th year, may their godana never fade. The Raaneki rejoiced, and many fine vintages were made in the year after. This," he said, caressing the bottle. "is wine from the sableberries in the highlands near the Miracle Pools, vinted in the finest winery in Rabod in the 348th year. There could be no finer wine for this Fellowship, Columbo Fiassa."

Prince Tikta held the bottle close. "It is purple--nearly black--with strong legs running down the glass." Deftly, he opened the bottle and swirled it under his nose. "This wine was matured in fine Raaneki oak for two years. The sableberry smells of plum, and," he sniffed slowly, "retains the scent of the berries being pressed after harvest. Marvelous."

He put the bottle to his lips, tasting, then a much larger, slower drink. "It tastes of black cherry and ruby grape, of pepper and pipeweed. The ghost of our ancestors is strong in this wine." Prince Tikta handed the bottle to Columbo. "Please. Drink as you come to know me."

Cassandra watched as Prince Tikta removed his shawl, bare to the world from the waist up. She had grown to love her husband, but he and his people remained stubbornly opposed to the decencies of the wide world. "I am Tikta," he said, gesturing to a simple scroll of black tattoos that charted his collar bones. "son of Satata, a mighty warrior, a bold adventurer, lover to my mother, Aditi, and to her husband, Devdan. Satata was relentless in purpose and peerless at arms, come to his early end by wilding arrows on the north marches of Raaneka. May his valor never be questioned."

Tikta's hands moved over his compact, muscular chest, dyed the same wholesome brown as the rest of him. The tattoos were more geometric here. Their simplicity played at the edges of language and meaning. "I am First Captain of the Raaneki Cavalry, mighty in archery and fast in friendship. My wife, my darling wife, has been my truest and final love." Tikta turned and spread his arms to display a long trail of deft black tattoos across his back and down each arm. "May it be said of me that I loved my ancestors and did honor to their memory. Such is my highest hope."

He clutched his stomach, fingers aligned with what looked like fresh tattoos, wide wedges of black on either side of his stomach. "I grieve," he said, gripping the tattoos, "for the loss of my beautiful children, clever Sirius and thoughtful Urani. I rejoice for those that remain with me, cunning David, graceful Khili, and wise Pasa."

His voice broke for a moment and he paused. Tears briefly rolled down his face. "I have known joy and sorrow, gain and loss, fellowship and isolation."

The whole affair took several minutes. In it, he recounted the parts of his humanity he admired and feared, nurtured and cast out. He spoke of his duties and his dreams. He gave account of his heart and mind, however much it pained him. He was as knowledgeable of himself and those he loved as the wine he shared with Columbo. At the end, Prince Tikta knelt, holding his hands up as if to accept the bottle.. "I tell you this in sight of my ancestors, that you might know me better. Would that you might grant me the same privilege."

Basically, he wants to drink wine while you tell him about yourself. Welcome to Raaneki church!

[Slayerofundead]

OOC

sorry I do not have a lot of time. I planed on using the event to trade honey for wheat with wombat. Sorry.

[SamBurke]

Ania regards the curious object with noticeable fascination. "This is most curious." After inspecting it closer she adds "There are sources of natural steam in Wenyavuk. I would be curious to know what potential your friend sees in them. He is welcome to accompany us when we head back to the north or follow at a later time once we have set up secure trading routes through the ice." She smiles knowingly "But you should warn him... he may not remember what warmth feels like long before he even arrives."

At Tumberinks second request, Näyiop seems relieved and answers simply "Gladly", then adds with a faint smile "Even if there are no seas in the north. Just ice." "I'm sure Columbo would agree to a journey... all of us must make sacrifices for the greater Journey. Since you have so stated, I welcome you to consider the lists given you, and to make such alliances as you can. The world will have need of growing closer.

"And whilst I must go prepare for my own journey, I leave you with one word of warning: prefer friends to enemies, and make more of the former than the latter. If you have a choice, always treat a man or a nation as friend than enemy. The world is yet too small for you to choose anything else!" He smiles and bows out of the conversation, making a few hurried preparations for the final ceremony.

He does manage to return briefly, however, to bring you to his final ceremony. "I must say, I surprise even myself... this will make quite the impression on you, I believe. Just sit, and wait... the Final Journey begins, dear friend." Tumberink disappears for a little while, and you shift in your seats, watching the grounds fill with other mourners.


((Sounds great to me :D Sorry again for having to cut the Visitation from my actions))

"Hello Prince Columbo."

Yelfis had heard of this man and she looked him up and down, his stature was not impressive, his stance weak and he seemed afraid of her, but there was something in his eyes. There was a spark there, adventure, intelligence. She decided he would do.

"We will be married," she stated to Columbo and the Doge. Columbo chokes on his drink and splatters it all over her vest. His eyes exploded in a half-dozen conflicting emotions. The Doge had really finally sailed into the unknown on this one! He'd... chosen a very attractive, very adventuresome woman, and gotten her to agree to marriage... Well, there were many worse fates. In fact, Columbo Fiassa could not think of a single fate that was better than the one that Tumberink had given him.

He'd have to thank the Doge after the ceremony was over. But for now, it was time to find an excuse to drink his way to temporary oblivion, just to come to terms with... Ah ha! The Raneeki delegation! What better way to find drink?

She watches as he finds himself amongst the men and women of Raneeka, and proceeds to drink himself silly... but there's something that changes, just as she watches him there. He goes from a quiet, unsure man to a bold figure, one without any reservation. Yes, this is his potential... someone whose mark on history will be eternal.

As these thoughts pass through her head, a messenger comes up, showing her the way to the seats reserved for royalty. "The Doge will begin his final message soon... I take it you have finished you commemoration?"


Cassandra watched as the messengers moved through the crowd. She watched as Prince Tikta noticed them, even as she heard the old Guilderene's words. He had gestured to a green glass bottle the size of two fists. It was fastened by a thong to Prince Tikta's belt, and a dark liquid swirled inside. Cassandra didn't need to see her husband's face to know what was coming.

Prince Tikta removed the bottle from his belt, and held it up so Columbo might see it more clearly. "My mother, Aditi, and her husband, Devdan, were raised to Lady and Lord of Raaneka in the 347th year, may their godana never fade. The Raaneki rejoiced, and many fine vintages were made in the year after. This," he said, caressing the bottle. "is wine from the midnight berries in the highlands near the Miracle Pools, vinted in the finest winery in Rabod in the 348th year. There could be no finer wine for this Fellowship, Columbo Fiassa."

Prince Tikta held the bottle close. "It is purple--nearly black--with strong legs running down the glass." Deftly, he opened the bottle and swirled it under his nose. "This wine was matured in fine Raaneki oak for two years. The midnight berry smells of plum, and," he sniffed slowly, "retains the scent of the berries being pressed after harvest. Marvelous."

He put the bottle to his lips, tasting, then a much larger, slower drink. "It tastes of black cherry and ruby grape, of pepper and pipeweed. The ghost of our ancestors is strong in this wine." Prince Tikta handed the bottle to Columbo. "Please. Drink as you come to know me."

Cassandra watched as Prince Tikta removed his shawl, bare to the world from the waist up. She had grown to love her husband, but he and his people remained stubbornly opposed to the decencies of the wide world. "I am Tikta," he said, gesturing to a simple scroll of black tattoos that charted his collar bones. "son of Satata, a mighty warrior, a bold adventurer, lover to my mother, Aditi, and to her husband, Devdan. Satata was relentless in purpose and peerless at arms, come to his early end by wilding arrows on the north marches of Raaneka. May his valor never be questioned."

Tikta's hands moved over his compact, muscular chest, dyed the same wholesome brown as the rest of him. The tattoos were more geometric here. Their simplicity played at the edges of language and meaning. "I am First Captain of the Raaneki Cavalry, mighty in archery and fast in friendship. My wife, my darling wife, has been my truest and final love." Tikta turned and spread his arms to display a long trail of deft black tattoos across his back and down each arm. "May it be said of me that I loved my ancestors and did honor to their memory. Such is my highest hope."

He clutched his stomach, fingers aligned with what looked like fresh tattoos, wide wedges of black on either side of his stomach. "I grieve," he said, gripping the tattoos, "for the loss of my beautiful children, clever Sirius and thoughtful Urani. I rejoice for those that remain with me, cunning David, graceful Khili, and wise Pasa."

His voice broke for a moment and he paused. Tears briefly rolled down his face. "I have known joy and sorrow, gain and loss, fellowship and isolation."

The whole affair took several minutes. In it, he recounted the parts of his humanity he admired and feared, nurtured and cast out. He spoke of his duties and his dreams. He gave account of his heart and mind, however much it pained him. He was as knowledgeable of himself and those he loved as the wine he shared with Columbo. At the end, Prince Tikta knelt, holding his hands up as if to accept the bottle.. "I tell you this in sight of my ancestors, that you might know me better. Would that you might grant me the same privilege."

Basically, he wants to drink wine while you tell him about yourself. Welcome to Raaneki church!
Heh. I love this. Gonna incorporate it into Guilder's methods right this minute! Also yay for continuity! Columbo nods, throwing back a full glass. It hits his bloodstream within a few minutes, but the social effect seems to go much faster. Presumably because he has no idea what alcohol actually does to a person. Then, he clears his throat and begins to speak. It's unclear how much of the slur is to convince himself, convince you, and how much is real.

"I'ver been erfraid my whole life... erfraid of ernything that I could do. See, I'm from ther Fiasser family, an' everything we do's pretty crazy. My da, he went sailin' south, ships erbandoned and all, 'nd didn't care. My brother, he done jumped in ther ermy, enlisted his-self before age, even though he had no reason t' do so. Led er suicide mission to the depths o' Sympol, an' didn' even ask for exchange. Just wanted a sword, 'e said, so 'e could stab some rats when 'e escaped. Ern then, Avori, me other brother, 'e went'ersplorin' down south, near da, and found big ole lizards.

"What've I done, huh? What've I ever done in me life?" Columbo shakes the glass, swigging back all the rest of it, and placing it on Tikta's head. He's definitely drunk now... apparently, his constitution is as delicate as a flaming handkerchief. "I dun nothin', been nothin', changed nobody. Yet I'm ther one here... Ther one who's got little scraps of perper to put on er little neat pile... I'm of er great line, an' I done nothin' worth bein' great. I never done nothing that's memorable.

"Don't mean I can't mourn, though." He grabs a flask of cheaper wine from a nearby table, now too tipsy to know the difference. "This 'un's for da, who always told us that we were gonna change the world forever, gonna fix things. Told me to look to the skies, did he... So I'll always look up to remember him by." Columbo glances up, and smiles sadly. "Next is Giorno, tha' craziest of us brothers. He done charged in thar with a dozen ships and a dozen hearts. He was the one what kept us at sea, said that erdventure was out there on th' next corner. So I'll look out there, out at tha sea, and drink to him an' his dreamin'.


"Avori's the one what kep' us all firm, though. Youngest bu' wisest. Planned the provisions for da's voyage, he did. Knew where to look and how, knew t' follow the stars and keep a 'andle on men'n'beast'like. He's not lost, quite, but he far 'way, all off in the Maos Colonies, developin' em. We need th' things he says, sc'nce d'pends on 'im. We all depending on Avori, just like the ground... so it's all complete." He pours his last glass onto the earth, and kneels.

"I remember all me family, an' I say that in mind o' them, I'm gonna change. I swear by this 'ere soaked earth, in memory o' me pa, and Giorno, and Avori, I'm gonna change tha world. What... what do you say to that, Mr. Tik-toc? Pretty honest, eh, Tikkkkkkkkkkktaaaaaaaaa?" Columbo is clearly inebriated, wholly so. Just as attendants arrive to remove him, a messenger interrupts.

"Have you finished your service...? Ah, good... erm... bring him. The Doge is making his final speech."

The Final Journey
The ground around the tall dais is filled with mourners from every nation. The stoic dwarves sit in knots, pretending that they feel no emotion. Humans of every size and description, from the tiny of the Rannaran Colonies to monstrous giants from the North and West, stand or kneel, continuing their mourning with little interruption. All attention is turned to the podium, as Tumberink steps up for one last speech.

He stands twenty feet above the crowd, well out over what would normally be water, a dock. This must be Guilderene tradition, though it is odd. The Doge checks a few things behind the podium, then raises his voice to address the assembled.

"Dear friends, it is my honor to speak to you again. Today has been a long, long, day. It feels as if we have thrust a week into a few hours, and that with great turbulence of emotion." He surveys the ordered piles of slips, carvings, tokens, and plates that surround him.

"Let me speak to you today about our power: what is it? There are many who will tell you that power is a simple application of martial might. Well, an army is power, yes, but it is not all of it: why does the army march? Others will say that their religion gives them motivation, but I ask, upon what is it based: why does the faith hold? Some then will look to their own ingenuity, their unceasing spirit of learning: but why do you continue to learn?

"For each of these, there is a deeper motivation, and what I asked you this morning is a similar question: what is our answer to the names written here? These names are a fire, a building, stoking, mass of power bursting inside our hearts. Look to the name: you do not need this paper to remember it! If you have come to mourn, then the names you mourn are etched on your heart and the back of your eyelids with eternal ink. So take that name, and place it deep within your heart. Remember the pain of the moment you heard, when you realized it was true! Remember the feeling of loneliness, or anger, or crushing despair. Tumberink stops himself, arms shaking like a leaf. How could Gareth have ever done this?

"The feeling you now remember is power: but I asked a question of you this morning. That question was, 'what is your answer to the power of your pain?' When the fires build, the fires fueled by these names, what does it devour?

"Because evil can and will devour our world. It has already begun its inexorable march, as some have foreseen, from the south. But the march I worry of is in our hearts. If that fire is not right..." He cannot go on. Turn now, and flee. It would be the same, would it not...? No. There would only be one show that would show the depth of his conviction. Tumberink drew a single match from behind the podium, and struck it.

"Each of us has this fire in us, and each will use it to set others alight. But why? Why do we fight? Because I tell you now why I fight: I fight so that no others may have to. I will die so that my children will live on. I suffer so that my people will be happy.

"We have fuel. We have fire. What will burn?" Tumberink took a deep breath, holding out the match above the thousands of slips of paper. Each, catalogued and safe-guarded by his son, was now covered in oil and Bloodfire. "What will burn, I wonder?" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and dropped the match.

Instantly, the stage was lit in a brilliant display: an explosion of flame gouging pillars into the sky, and flowing around the lone figure of the Doge in his robes. The fire that engulfs the dais and podium is not slow-growing, it catches fire across the entire stage within a few seconds.

Just as quickly as the speech turned to its end and the flames burst, the Doge is gone. No trace of him on the stage, no trace of anything except his bronze swords, broken.

He was gone, the names were gone, even the stage was burned to the water's edge. In fact, only one thing was left of the entire Visitation: one solitary burning question.






Epilogue: Humperdink was just as confused as the others. Where had his father gone? There had been reports from several of the soldiers that an unmarked ship, flying only the white banner of peace, had been seen exiting the harbor and sailing south. Yet there was no missing ship noted in the harbors, nor any of the navy ship-yards had heard of anything matching its specifications.

No one could locate him, though the stories spread from Rannara, Maos, and the Fastness that a great ship of the night had been seen. Said they, it was clothed all in steel, a glittering ship whose sailors did not speak, and whose captain was not seen. They claimed many such things, but no one could prove it. All they could say for sure was that there was a ship which had escaped registry in every harbor going south. It passed Fiassa's Fastness, and disappeared into the ocean beyond.

So, Humperdink oversaw the transfer of his inheritance from his father's treasuries, signing himself into power over the estate, and by doing so, gaining power over Guilder. Oddly, none of the other merchant Princes attempted to challenge him. The beginning of Humperdink's reign was entirely without note, entirely without conflict inside the country. None would say why, but there was no doubt. Questions required answers, and answers necessitated changing ones' life, after all.