(Event) The Fall of a Giant

by **Jackalope** on December 7th, 2012, 4:12 am

The Fall of a Giant
Day of Winter 3, 512 AV
Evening

It came unexpectedly. The majority of Endrykas was dealing with this illness, but for it to take someone of such strength came as the ultimate surprise. Ravorel Shiningedge was dead. But a dozen days prior the man was vibrant, if pox marked, shouting out orders and distributing equipment to those who proudly served under him in the Watch. Then suddenly the fever took him, and he was bed ridden. Tiny red dots all over his skin turned black, the skin died, and so did he return to the web, all before anyone could react. He was found alone in his pavilion. Too great a warrior, taken from this life in a way not befitting a man of his position and history.

To pay respects to a man who had led the Watch for more seasons than anyone could remember, a ceremony would be held. A handful of Drykas skilled with creating structures were given the honor of creating a scaffolding for which to allow the fallen leader to view Syna, Leth, and Zintila's stars. Ravorel lie upon the wooden structure, his arms crossed, and head tilted upward to look to the skies. Even though his body was wracked by the horrible plague, he maintained a proud look, as though he fought with death until the very end. Various trinkets, crafted mementos, and tokens honoring the great man had been presented at the base of the arrangement. Hundreds of Drykas had wondered by throughout the day in order to pay their final respects to the well known leader. His spirit had since returned to the cycle, but that didn't stop tears from being shed. If this man could fall to the pox, who couldn't?

A ceremony was to be held this evening to bring closure to this life. The temperature was quite chilly, as the puffs of frozen breath could be seen rising in the light provided by the several fires spread around the locale. Zulrav was kind enough to calm his breeze for this occasion, leaving the frigid chill as the only worry. Dozens upon dozens of Drykas mulled about near the scaffolding, sharing stories of the good old days, times they had shared together. It would be a bell or so before the final words were spoken and people would begin to disperse, but for now it was a time of remembrance before all would move on with their own existence, their own struggles, and their own triumph. After everyone left, the animals of the dangerous plains would come and take his body, his bones, his remains, and scatter them across the wilderness, completing the cycle and allowing his soul to once again be reborn into Mizahar.

ooc :

by **Akilah Windsong** on December 22nd, 2012, 6:16 am

She felt young. It was something she felt often these days, young and inexperienced, and maybe that was a part of growing up. Feeling young until there was nothing left to surprise you, nothing left for you to learn.

Death was not new to her. This man, however, had seemed like a god in her childhood and though she knew in her heart that he would die before her, it seemed like Ravorel would live forever. Or at least, for much longer than this.

The pox was more deadly than she imagined. Her pavilion shouldn't have returned now, when the city was stricken with illness, but return they had and it was too late for regrets. Her hands clenched around a small bauble, a sculpted horse, and as she approached the structure, she leaned down and placed it beside the scaffolding. The earth was cold under her hands, much like the white puffs in her breath, and she silently prayed to Zulrav and Semele.

Getting up, she gave a wane smile at his corpse. Ravorel might one day return as a strider, a strong stallion. "I feel sorry for whoever your partner is," she whispered before moving away from the structure.

Standing behind, she watched the Drykas build the scaffolding, linking him to the web and her people. It was a skill she admired--she knew little of it aside from the feeling of being connected.

by **Sama'el Sunsinger** on December 26th, 2012, 7:51 am

Sama'el had told his pavilion where he was going, and invited Ronan and Mealla to come if they wished to. Neither were full-fledged members of the Watch yet, but it was good to show respect for the honored dead. But Sama'el wanted to go early, and he had one of Denen's scarves wrapped around his face both to protect from the bite of the cold, and to screen out the pox. Or perhaps it was a baseless gesture. All the same, his nose and mouth were covered with fine blue cloth.

He stood apart after arriving, observing the Sayaph's body from afar, the offerings, the temporary buildings constructed to commemorate his passing. The Drykas didn't bury or burn their dead, but left their bodies behind for the Sea of Grass to claim. As the Web caught their souls, the earth drank the body's water, the grasses claimed the bodies or the predators and carrion-eaters did. That which made up the body rejoined the ecological web of their prairies.

So much changed. Two days previous, he had married Denen's niece, Sandar, to save her from her cruel Ankal. Though he did not love her as he had loved Issima, an Ankal ought not be without wife. A Drykas girl ought not be terrorized in her own pavilion. But happiness was followed by sadness, and one could only look forward to the next turn of the cycle, when again came joy.

He meditated on this and waited.

Open (Event) The Fall of a Giant