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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Apr 26, 2021 22:32:59 GMT
"Jax, please take down the following, create several letters and deliver them to Caoimhghin at the Revue and to the Cygnets. I will put it in the letter but also please tell them to invite whomever they wish.
Dear friends of Sindre,
You are invited to a service in honor of Sindre, member of the Cygnets, master of the harp. The service will be held tomorrow evening after sunset at the temple of Alaxton, King of the Dead.
Any inquiries may be directed to Shepherd Kestal.
Together with you in mourning,
Shepherd Septimus Minar Kestal "
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 26, 2021 22:38:11 GMT
Jax runs off to the Revue and every place he can think of for the Cygnets. Eventually, the notes do reach you, Caoimhghin Enkeli, and you, Anak-Sa'ir.
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Post by Diocles on Apr 26, 2021 23:34:18 GMT
I arrive and wait for my friends. I am without my bodyslaves now.
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 26, 2021 23:44:51 GMT
The Magister is also present, dressed in his formal priestly robes.
Justus Lesav Fal, Sindre's childe is present, along with Fiach. They are dressed in the black of Skenje mourning.
None of them speak, but all wait for the Shepherd Haruspex to direct them.
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Nobody
Alexios Group
Posts: 1,409
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Post by Nobody on Apr 26, 2021 23:48:13 GMT
I arrive with Kumari, in simple black.
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Post by Diocles on Apr 26, 2021 23:56:41 GMT
I am dressed all in black. Stylish, beautiful.
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Post by Sir Roland Desprez on Apr 27, 2021 0:28:13 GMT
Wordlessly I direct the guests to the appropriate section of the room. I then take my Shepherd's staff, raise it high with both hands and then sharply rap it on the ground. I slowly make my way in a circle repeating this same act, raising the staff high and rapping it sharply on the ground as the acolytes begin a chant of invocation of Alaxton. I make a circle around a table on which is Sindre's harp lies, finishing the circle at the head of the table. I raise the staff high again but leave it in the air as I say:
"Alaxton, King of the Dead, hear me your servant. Sindre of the Vadal, master of the harp, trusted friend of many, has passed beyond. We cannot see him but all are visible to your eyes. We cannot touch him but all are cared for by your hand. He is beyond us but none are beyond you. Guide him through your gates and to the table in your hall. Give him an honored place where he may await the arrival of those he loves." With this last I make eye contact with Caoimghin.
I continue to hold the staff high as the acolytes mark the air with sacred symbols and chant supplication for the departed spirit to be received. The supplications increase in volume, chanting intermixed with wailing and becoming almost frenzied. Just when it seems that it can't get any louder, all sound ceases and I bring my staff down on the ground with a loud crack. Quietly I say "Alaxton, King of the Dead, hear us and welcome Sindre of the Vadal." I stand motionless for several moments then raise my reddened eyes to the gathered crowd. "May Alaxton, King of the Dead watch over all gathered here that you may be reunited with Sindre in his halls."
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 27, 2021 0:30:59 GMT
The acolytes' chant of, "Make it so, Alaxton!" is taken up first by Justus Lesav Fal, then Fiach, then the Magister.
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Post by Diocles on Apr 27, 2021 0:37:13 GMT
I also join the chant, and I glance over at the Magister.
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 27, 2021 0:43:18 GMT
The Magister's blue eyes meet your gaze, and his chants are measured, without any falter, but also without any of the expression of grief that is evident in Fal, whose voice is unsteady in each repetition.
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Post by Diocles on Apr 27, 2021 0:44:25 GMT
I know how much Fal grieves for his Sire, and I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. But still my gaze returns to the Magister.
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 27, 2021 0:45:34 GMT
The Magister's gaze meets yours, and he holds your look with his blue eyes like mountain lakes.
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Post by Diocles on Apr 27, 2021 0:51:44 GMT
I nod briefly and only once at him, and I know he understands my mind.
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Nobody
Alexios Group
Posts: 1,409
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Post by Nobody on Apr 27, 2021 0:55:23 GMT
I stand with my Brothers, chanting with them. We, now three, childer of Winterisle.
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Post by Storyteller on Apr 29, 2021 3:14:21 GMT
/scene
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