The Wall of Honor - Page 5





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  1. #41
    Bhryn Astairre
    Guest
    There is many a collection of names upon the wall, but no corner has been decorated so much as one small family does. The names of brother, mother, father, son, daughter, cousin and now the most recent plaque joines the collection as well as fresh wreaths of the tradition family Rose, a unique breed of blue coloured flower with the name 'Celestial Spirit'.

    The plaque is of a fiery blood-red gold, the world inked in delicately by hand with silver.


    It was a while since I really talked to you;
    I had it all planned out, what to say.
    But it's funny how I never get that chance
    What I should have, every day.
    There were psalms and soft little hymns
    Songs and a dance to go:
    Perhaps you knew it was time for you
    Perhaps didn't want me to know.
    I wish it could have been so much easier
    That I had just one more day
    To put right all those things I did wrong
    To force out what I need to say.
    I can feel the words sitting in my heart
    With a meaning I can't describe,
    That you were everything to a lonely girl
    That you made me feel alive.
    There used to be a single green tree
    With our names carven deep:
    Or nights with stars in stranger signs
    To watch us as we sleep.
    But somewhere out there now you slumber
    In a rest of eternal right:
    Where you can dream without a boundary
    Be it day or night.
    I wish I still had the time to say
    Three little words so true:
    And that one day I'll be right beside
    In the grass, next to you.

    ~ Bhryn ~ xxxx

 

  • #42
    Obsidianjaerc
    Guest
    Inscribed in a flowing script, recognizable as Jaerc's handwriting, this obituary stays on the wall, words seemingly just written there as if on paper, but clearly carved into the structure.



    For Dante, A Rememberance

    Whenever sang my songs
    On the stage, on my own
    Whenever said my words
    Wishing they would be heard

    I knew you laughing with me
    Was it real or just my fantasy
    You'd always be there in the corner
    Of this tiny little bar

    My last night here for you
    Same old songs, just once more
    My last night here with you
    Maybe yes, maybe no

    I kind of liked it your way
    How you boldly held blades with me
    Oh, did you ever know?
    How much I enjoyed your company

    Dante, so you always were
    With that look on your face
    As if you're never hurt
    As if you're never down

    So let me sing to you
    Remember the past as I want it to be
    Close enough for me
    I remember our adventures

    And stay there as I sing
    How calm your peaceful eyes Bhryn
    Oh, did you ever know?
    She knows you did

    Dante, so I'll remember
    My love if I have enough
    My tears I'm holding back
    Or pain if that's what it is

    How can I let you know
    Beyond the grave, once more
    Just hear this song of goodbye
    You will know that you're not dreaming

  • #43
    Savael
    Guest
    At one place in the wall, writing has been chiseled into the smooth, grey stonework. It has almost been worn away with age, and is only barely readable.

    To anyone learned in dwarven runes, it reads:

    In memory of Keth, proud son of Durgis Rock. You didn't catch fish so well, but handled the axe better. The road was a good going while you were with us, it is sad that your light has left us now.

    Fare well Keth, be free, catch that great fish you always dreamed of, and know that your sacrafice will not be forgotten. Here's to you Keth, as you sometimes used to say:

    Oh mighty Ancestors, pray grant me the luck to catch a fish so big that even I, when telling of it afterwards, will never need to lie.

    OoC: I hope you rest easy, Keth old boy, where ever you might be. You were damn well the best character I've ever played with, shame on me for killing you like that.

    At least you got an end worthy of a hero...

    - Hans E.

  • #44
    MagusDraconium
    Guest
    A seemingly rich merchant steps up to The Wall, waves his hand in an annoyed jesture, and lights form into small words written in every conceivable language.
    The words read, in their pale light:

    For the lost,
    For the found,
    To those who I have wronged,
    In the skies, or in the ground.

    My apologies to mine bretheren,
    The meek and the bold,
    To my friends and family,
    The young and the old.

    We shall meet in Celestia,
    Or Limbo or Hades,
    Where dreams can come true,
    With many fun raids.

    My rebuttal for you all,
    Those I have sinned for,
    I am now lost to you,
    Do not ask for an encore.


    After examining his work, the merchant then removes a dagger from his coat, slashes his wrist, and lets two drops of blood fall upon the wall.

    He then states his last words, to be heard by the wall:
    Live well, my young,
    For my song has been sung.


    He then collapses, and reverts into a small bronze dragon, quite evidently dead.

  • #45
    Darkskies
    Guest

    To thoughs who knew's Kirion Violatta

    A robbed figure walks by the wall a smirk almost upon his face face that is mostly hidden in the shadows of a hood. He stops and rests a plack upon the ground leaning aginst the wall for all to see and read what is says.

    To thoughs who knew Kirion Violatta, here is the messege of his death.

    Let any that would morn this now fallen celestial if they care for him. These are the words of his death maker and nothing more, for I care not to him but respect any living thing enough to let their loved ones know of their out come. He died almost a fort night ago, and that is why no word has come from him and that is all I will say.

    Signed his Assassin

    The figure walks off with the same smirk upon his face and without a second thought to his deeds.

  • #46
    Bhryn Astairre
    Guest
    Passes by and pauses. Scowls at the last note and walks off, looking -very- harried.

  • #47
    cat o nine mice
    Guest
    At the far end of the walk, the Reverend Mother Mezzanine watches
    silently the parade of the grieving. One rose /gauntletted hand clutches
    her walking staff. The other hand, bare, rests lightly on the Holy
    Symbol, the Eye of Yahwehva, hanging from a heavy gold chain at
    her throat. Slowly, one deliberate step at a time, she takes her turn
    at the Wall...

    "In remembrance of Mandrake...(she bows)
    "For Syndellian...(she bows)
    "For Ensign Agok, The Major, and all who perished on the wagon train...
    "For dear, dear Klem Digh, who gave himself to God without truly knowing
    what it meant.....
    And for my Own Mother, who now rests with Angels."

    Turning, the cleric walks stiffly away, past the river of mourners.

  • #48
    *a very tall, apparently human man walks in,dressed all in black, hair white as new fallen snow,shaggy,coming down to his earlobes. Many weapons adorn his belt,a massive sword strapped to his back. He has a deep scar on his face,starting between his eyebrows and running to his right jawbone. He slowly walks towards the wall of the honored dead,his tattered cape flailing slightly as the wind blows. He tacks on a small piece of parchment to the wall.*

    The note reads:
    "I know you would forgive,though I can never forgive myself. You will always be in my heart,you will always be in my memories,my darling Sirta. -- Aros. "

    *The man takes a few steps back and stares at the wall for a moment,saying softly to himself: *

    "Sirta....you died so many years ago...you died at the hand of my enemy...you died so I would weaken....you died so that I could die.....if I...if I could change the events of the past,I would more than willingly give up my life to save you...I'm sorry....I'm so sorry...."

    *he starts to turn,but before he does,he notices a small pendant hanging on the wall. He stares at it for a moment.*

    "Gondelreth....you never stop...."

    *his fists clench as his eyes burn into the pendant,feeling a small aura of darkness coming from within. He reaches for it and grabs it,albeit hesitantly. It burns his hand and screams to be left alone,but is ripped forth from the wall and pummeled into the ground. Rose brings his foot down upon it,making a loud shattering noise,shards of glass now adorning thr ground. He mutters to himself:*

    "Gondelreth...as much as I can,I will stop your deeds. Should you feel the need to trap something someplace,go elsewhere.....the dead have suffered enough without you... "

    *He shakes his head in pity,then walks off,the pieces of the pendant lying on the ground. He looks at his hand for a moment,a large round burn mark there now. He closes his hand tightly and clenches his teeth hard as he walks out of the Emporium.*

  • #49

    Wounds, and how we all seek to heal them.

    **Goes and posts a flyer, and does an about face, leaving---it reads*:

    "I am a new one around these parts. I traveled from a far away counrty to come here. I am in search of my sister, whom I believe is the only living family member besides myself in my lineage now. It is highly dire that I find her--her name is Raven..."

    "In return for anyone's help, I will assist them in any way they wish. I swear upon my father's tomb."

    Many thanks,

    Dekerin Einlander, Son of Galvas
    "Death is more Universal than Life. Everyone dies, but not everyone lives."

  • #50
    *the large half dragon wanders through the woods and happends apon the wall, he stops in his travel and looks it over, he looks to the ground as he knows a few names where put there at his hand. He takes a small scroll and place's it on the wall*

    *it reads*~Bret...you crazy man, what became of you after that final battle with Gondelreth...that final blow i set to you...to him, to the war for the moment....you are not forgotten my friend..you are not forgotten~ *he bows to the scroll and takes fight from the erily calm place*
    Last edited by Shadov; Friday, 11th November, 2005 at 08:12 AM.

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