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Thread: Intermission - A Funeral

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    Intermission - A Funeral

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    As the sun sets below the treeline, the air cools noticeably. Gendoll and Ogam move from censer to censer, lighting pitch-covered bundles of aromatic herbs to drive off the biting insects. Marc, Duvek, and Polon place the last of the stones on top of the cairn. The ceremony is over and the prayers have been spoken. Walking quietly down the hill, those who are not preparing the food and drink for the upcoming wake break off into small groups.

    The events surrounding the acqua alta proved too much of a strain for Iniusy. Naturally, as much treatment and healing as could be afforded or asked for was tried, but it was soon obvious that only palliative care would be effective. She was pleased to be reunited with her two sons: Polon, and Marc from her first marriage, but she remained bedridden before finally expiring, this morning.

    Not wanting to waste any time in the oppressive heat, Duvek gathered everyone concerned and ferried you across the Yu to its northern bank. You bore her coffin about two leagues through the lightly forested hills with the elf leading the way, before arriving at a pleasant meadow atop a perfectly round, low hill, covered with wildflowers. This is where Iniusy and Duvek first met, and this is where Iniusy now lies.

    In addition to her family and the scribes, Lywthast is here, as is the hospitaller and some of Yrisz's Vulysen Sisters who attended to her, and the innkeeper and her hobgoblin assistant from the Inn of the Second Candle, who took it upon themselves to bring over some amenities when it became apparent where most of the party was actually staying. There are also some acolytes and scholars from the Iounic Monastery that Iniusy worked for. Despite the multitude of faiths represented, the rites themselves are conducted by Duvek, and appear to be a personal fusion of the liturgy of Saint Ioun and the foreign faith of the Deep Woods.

    The sky slowly becomes dark, and at last the food is ready and strong drink is poured. Many of you delayed your plans to stay with Iniusy or those who were caring for her. Now, as you raise your cups in libation, it is time to ritually sever those ties, move on, and discuss the future.

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    Noxias sits down tentatively with his comrades-in-arms, a drink in his hand. He seems somewhat shy. With several false starts and a large gulp at his cup he finally blurts out to the group, "For a bunch of people from a mundane land you all can hold your own." He sighs mentally cringing on how that came out. "What I ment to say was thank you for keeping me alive," he glances toward Yrisz; "and for blunting the tip of many a spear aimed at my person." He inclines his head toward Zephyr and Rogur.

    "Over the last week or so I've marveled at how much you have done for Duvek and his family and this land, but I don't quite understand why. If it is money, that is easy to grasp, but if it is for love, then I am at a disadvantage, for that is something that does not come easily. There is no love lost between me and my fellows back in the courts of the unseelie. But that land is my home, and I was comfortable after a fashion. At least I had some coin." He fumbles subconsciously with his empty purse.

    "When they threw me to your mercy you were but babes-in-arms, but you have grown." He pauses, clearly exasperated by something. "Uhh, this is coming out all wrong. I will have to return some day, I want to return, but I am not strong enough," you have to strain your ears to here the last few words over the sound of the wake as he trails off.
    Ariellana, Noxias, and Yrisz that one time...
    Quote:
    "It seems to Noxias that the mere act of perceiving her in her decrepitude is enough to draw forth the mortality in his body."
    Translation: "Damn girl, you fugly."

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    Rogur gazes at the Eladrin, his face unusually solemn. After spending the last several days in and out of one scrape after another, it feels good to simply sit, although he still cannot bring himself to spend much time in Duvek's presence. The elf's grief is too clearly graven in his face, Rogur's ham-fisted attempts at consolation fall pitiably short, and he finds himself considering the past far too often for comfort.

    Sitting quietly, drink in hand, he listened to Noxias with half an ear as the wizard fumbled through his explanation. His eyes kept returning to Lywthast, captivated by the line of her jaw and neck, curving gracefully along her shoulder and down the front of her... He shook his head minutely and snapped his eyes back to Noxias, who was still murmuring disjointedly. Keep a cork in it, Rogur, this is neither the time nor the place. Well, not the place, anyway. Maybe she'll take a walk later, and want some company? Strange folks about, and it never hurts to have an extra sword arm to... He blinks and returns his gaze and thoughts again to Noxias. Replaying the Eladrin's monologue in his head, Rogur realizes that he's expected to some kind of response. He gropes for something safe, positive and noncommittal.

    "Hang in there, you'll get your wish someday, I'm---w
    ait, 'babes in arms?'" Rogur looks at the wizard in disbelief as the Eladrin makes conciliatory noises. "That's a fine how-de-do for you." He looks over at Zephyr, who appears to be lost in thought contemplating the bottom of his wine cup. "This babe needs another bottle." He drains his cup, stands, and stomps over to refills it at the cask. He fumes for a minute, and then makes his way back to the table, sits, and when he speaks again, his voice is calmer. "Well, truth to tell, I have learned an awful lot over the past couple of days. Wizards and magic and all that still make me want to hide under a blanket, but I can't deny there's some use to them." He raises his cup to Noxias in acknowledgement, then grins, his face regaining some of its usual sardonic humor. "Just keep me behind you when you play with your little fiery spells, will you?"

    He swishes the wine around in his mouth--a nice, full red with a refreshing tartness reminiscent of some of his favorite Eastern vintages--and swallows, then looks around the table. "I've learned a lot," he repeats, "but one thing in particular sticks with me. This 'Cresta' woman we read about in the Magus' letters." He looks at Yrisz and Zephyr, waiting for a sign of recognition, then continues. "I spent a little time with Polon yesterday asking about her, and I think I'm going to try to find her. If she is who I hope she is, we have some business, and if not, she may be able to tell me a little bit about what the Magus was doing all shut up in that tower of hers. Nothing pleasant, I'll wager."

    He pauses, then shrugs helplessly. "Problem is, Beil Valley is a big place, and I don't know where to start. I guess I'll dig around a bit." He looks up at the faces surrounding the table. "What about you? What are your plans?"

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    Yrisz, who has remained unusually quiet and solemn during Iniusy's funeral, takes a moment away from assisting in Old Mother Gessel's catering efforts to rest among her new companions and enjoy the efforts of Gessel's labors. As such, she sits next to Lywthast, facing the motley crew of adventurers, observing with much mirth as they trade compliments and jibes with each other.

    She seems quite surprised when Rogur's conversation moves toward the next matters at hand. "Oh, Cresta, I had not given her much thought really, though I suppose she, E, and Master Nemzpan (if he IS still alive) have quite woven their threads through this whole affair."

    After a moment's reflection, "For my part I should not mind seeing more of this land though and you could do worse for company, if the Sisterhood might spare me that is. Though in truth my only responsibility of that sort was to stay mostly safe in the valley until my mentor finished with the messy affair at the Temple of Lightning Spear, so as long as I keep the Sisterhood abreast of my movements, I see no need for them to object."

    "As for you Noxias I do quite understand," she says moving a sympathetic eye towards the brightly dressed fay, "home is home, no matter how bitter that storm that surrounds it so if you should like, I could at least get you started with introductions in the Alley of the Gods, it might not do much, but, I don't think it could harm. You'll need a great deal more silver though to get you entirely their with rituals costs being what they are…"

    "Speaking of silver, I was wondering," Yrisz says, pitching her words to the group at almost a whisper, "do you think there is anything that we could do to assist Duvek with his financial woes? He has worries enough with Iniusy's loss, and considering how much benefit he has lent us, we could not do ill finishing his, as capable as we are. What do you think? I'm sure there is some small coin to be found for helpful services we could render, Noxias could keep his share for his needs, and the mystery of Cresta will keep for a bit," she adds hopefully.
    Last edited by Umiushi; 11-28-2012 at 12:26 AM.

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    Zephyr tries to see the joy in such a sad day, the sons are reunited with family. This solemn note keeps Zephyr silent, but leaves a unnoticeable smile on his face.
    "I'm not going crazy. I'm going sane in a CRAZY world!"

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