Funeral of Haelion Bastion (Thread RP)

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Areia Polias

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Senior Member

01-17-2011

Three more figures rode into view, dismounting before entering the clearing proper. At the front was Kios Anim, his the black and gold of his own Ionian breastplate gleamed with a polished luster. Changing the color of his armor had once been Kios' symbol for abandoning Ionia to Noxus, so many years ago. Now, after Haelion's sacrifice in the Void, Kios' hatred for the leaders of his one-time home felt so small, so petty. Somberly, he wrapped the silk band around his arm, its red border like twin lines of fire on his arm.

The band felt heavy, everything felt heavy. He was so weary from fulfilling Haelion's duties among the Preservers as well as his own. Kios had buried himself in his work, acting strong for those around him, for himself. Yet now, as the mask covering his emotions broke, tears came down Kios Anim's face as he approached the headstone.

Behind him followed his closest friends and assistants. Abigail Tennyson was strangely quiet, she walked behind Kios in her Demacian dress uniform which also bore the mournful black band. All the propaganda from her homeland about Haelion's actions during his life had been disproven when she saw the impact he had made on so many souls. Haelion Bastion was a man to honor.

To her side, the strode the massive Triton of Stanpar. Not even his proud demeanor had been spared the sorrow of the moment. He had not come to stand beside Kios Anim for this event. Triton knew much of Bastion's exploits: his skill, fearless drive, and unconquerable spirit were things to honor. So he came bearing the relics of Stanpar and the silk ribbon stretched thin across his arm. This famous soul deserved a Stanpar's honor.

Kios reached the opening of the headstone. He paused, looking into the box before taking out his gift: a small shield, handcrafted and engraved with an ancient Ionian blessing carved like calligraphy into its surface. The long hours he had spent crafting this gift had weighed mourning on him like lead; but as he placed the shield into the box, that weight lifted, leaving a sad tranquility in its place.

Triton came next, taking a small vase of wine, a Stanpar gift to the dead and placing it inside the box. He had one more gift to give, but this was not the time to give it.

Abigail, the last of the three, stood awkwardly to the side. She cursed herself for having no gift to give, for not knowing what gift to give when everyone else was prepared to do so. She could only hang her head in shame at being unable to leave a final gift to the man who died to save all of Runeterra, tears flowing down her eyes as she took her place with Kios and Triton.


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Talz

Senior Member

01-17-2011

Black gas cut the sky as the morning sun had just begun it's daily ritual. The smoke rested to the ground until it dissipated leaving behind two figures, a man and a woman, dressed in formal black wear. The man's grey skin shown in the rising star's light, the woman's hair matched the deep red's of the eastern sun. The liege had abandoned his usual armor for a sharp set of black barbarian's grieving robes. He realized that he hadn't worn them since Karrow's passing so many years ago. The black fur would have been soft to the touch, could he feel anything at the moment. The black ribbon band flapped symbolically in the wind, as if trying to escape and move on. He held onto it tighter, not wanting to lose the man who was his friend just yet. Khay slipped her hand into Pern's finger's, her grip was cold and tight, striving for warmth and comfort. Her black flowing dress moved with the Ionian winds, the bamboo and reeds creating a percussionist's song in the breeze.

Pern somberly walked alongside Khay, keeping his eyes focused on the gleaming tombstone. He nodded wordlessly towards the monk and Captain William as he knelt down by the ornate gifting box. The crafter's had spared no expense on the High Summoner, the details were amazing. Putting his hands into the suit he pulled out a single perfect red apple. The fruit was the paragon of it's type, a pure crimson color with a few veins of a faint golden color running along it's peel. As he set the gift into the chest, he couldn't help but think of how much he owed the man. He would be so lost and alone had Haelion not sacrificed a portion of his soul to bring Khay and the other wraith's back. Everything he himself could never accomplish on his own was brought by the strength of this one man.

Khay laid her hand on Pern's shoulder as she ran her hand across the embellished tombstone, her fingers tracing each cold letter of the man's name. Pern wiped the few tears that began to fall from her chin. She buried her head in his chest as they stood back up. Allowing the other guests to arrive and deliver their gifts. Pern did not look back as he finally began to understand what it was finally meaning to let go. If there was one solace in this death, it was that the dreams they created together, the world they had strived for, still existed. There was still reason to move on.

Goodbye Haelion, goodbye my friend.


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Unasetra

Senior Member

01-17-2011

Una walked towards the memorial wearing an ornate black dress holding both her hands behind her touching the silk ribbon. She glanced behind her as if looking for someone to talk too, it was obvious why she was shaking in sadness tears glimmering in her eyes she moved quietly trying to compose herself before she came into better view.

As she walked she felt her powers getting weaker she understood well, a sacred ground like this had no use for destructive magic such as hers. she wandered in holding a small box in the same hand as the ribbon, if anyone were to check they'd see nothing out of the ordinary but in reality it was a golden flame, tiny ever so small it would never burn anything else waiting in the box, but just for safety it was held in the small ornate wooden box, the flame was ever-burning symbolizing the life and balance that he fought so hard for, it was also the highest honor she could give him as a mage a piece of her magic that she could never get back.

She walked forward ever so slowly bowing before each relative of Haelion's and finally as she put the box in with the other gifts the tears spilled over cutting lines down her face, she bowed before the memorial and moved to an empty chair and attempted to calm herself slightly.


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Draken Frosthand

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Senior Member

01-17-2011

Draken arrived at the grave as Una made her offering, taking his hat off and making a reverence to the headstone, his other hand clasping an ivory tube.

Rising once more and returning the hat to its rightful place, he opened the tube and turned it upside down, a thin dust streaming from it into the box.

Not long ago we had our first and our last battle mister Bastion. I took a moment of my time after that to prepare this for the inevitable event... These are fruits of your accomplishment, over a thousand of them, my very own children.

Once the dust had settled into a mound in the box, he closed the tube and hide it in his vests once more, stepping aside for the next attendee.


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Kahzel

Senior Member

01-17-2011

From far, two tall mages, dressed in dark robes, came to give Bastion the last goodbye.

Kahzel Darkflare ((http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/192)), and his father, Dacaltior Darkflare ((http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/227)) came from a long trip from Demacia. Kahzel, being part of The Preservers was at the funeral, but since the magic is weakened in the sacred grounds he had to go further so the teleporting link between the family could activate.

Kahzel, being able to spend his days with Haelion, was indeed sad. Dacaltior, even being from the Demacian Court, didn't hold any grudge against him.

They couldn't go in without being noticed. The most ignorant ones were saying between their teeth What are demacian warlocks doing here?, and the most enlightned ones were looking awkardly the warlocks, mumbling between themselves I can't believe Haelion befriended one of the converted. Kahzel wanted to just say goodbye and turn away, he was feeling ashamed; however his father looked at him and said "Ignore them, they do not know about our past."

As they reached the tomb, Kahzel kneeled down in front of the tomb, and mumbled something:

"Mr. Bastion, i appretiate the things you have done to all. I'm still wondering what did you mean about that thing you told me the last day we met. "You'll overcome the darkness inside you." But i hope to find the answer some day. Until then, may the spirits of your ancestors be your guide. The spirits of the Darkflare family will watch your journey to the afterlife, protecting you from vile magics."

As Kahzel finished speaking, he stoo up. Dacaltior started mumbling a spell, causing his eyes to glow. Then he started speaking in a language that seemed nonsense. A nearby monk, seeming angry for their presence, shouted "He's cursing his soul!", but he didn't even listen to him. As he finished, he spoke to everyone present: "The revenants of our ancestors will watch Haelion from being disturbed in his journey ot the afterlife. If something happens to him, they will defend Haelion." Looking at his grave, he said: "May you never leave the path you've chosen, Koragon."

After that, Kahzel placed a fine piece of jewellery on the box. It was one of the finest necklaces, for Demacian nobles. He knew Haleion ouwldn't like a piece of expensive jewellery, but it had a special meaning to them. It had socketed an amber with it, and for the long-extinct warlock tribe, it was placed on the warlock's tombs to keep the souls in a calm, peaceful rest.

Having this finished, Kahzel went to a certain spot, watching the rest of the ceremony. Dacaltior followed him. But something was disturbing him. Enabling his contact with spirits, Dacaltior spoke to the nearby spirits with his mind: If Haelion's soul hasn't found rest yet, please ask him this, and try to deliver the answer to me, he will know what i'm talking about. Haelion, did he embrace The Void?


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ipleadthefif208

Senior Member

01-17-2011

Isildur walks up with his guard in close tow. upon reaching the grave isildur becomes more tense. Isildur pulled out a extravegent golden small boat and placed in the grave. speaking in his native tounge he prayed, rose and left the grave.


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Motas

Senior Member

01-17-2011

A portal of Soulfire appeared near the outskirts of the of the perimeter. A figure walked out of the portal onto the ground and walked towards the funeral site. Motas was adorned not in his usual blue-brown hood, but a silky black robe. The insignia of Soulfire was etched into the back of the robe, though not in it's usual sense. It was more calmly inscribed, a memento of what Haelion had done for Motas throughout his life.

Walking into the grounds, Motas could feel a sense of calmness in the air. The aura of peace was a beautiful thing not felt just anywhere. Only sacred places had this type of feeling. Walking up to the grave, Motas created a black and red rose out of Soulfire. He placed the rose on the ground, the black energy seeped into the ground near the grave, giving it his protection as well as allowing him passage to the spot whenever he chose. The rose remained, absolutely gorgeous without the black, a stunning reminder that beauty was always under the surface.

I may be coming back here often to seek your advice Haelion, I will miss you so...

Motas walked over to where some of the other visitors were sitting. He took his seat as he continued to contemplate the actions of his life when Haelion was around. He looked around and noticed that he had chosen the seat next to Scarr. Motas was rather surprised to see him here, Scarr of all people, at the funeral.

Death...the one thing that brings us all together...


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NinajFridge

Senior Member

01-17-2011

The High Nomad had wandered far to attend this, but in his lifetime he had wandered further. He had no gift for he had only found out about it recently. He walked slowly to the grave and smiled. He gestured and a glass rose began to form in his hands. He placed it with the others and then walked over to behind Una's chair he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.


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Rafeo

Senior Member

01-17-2011

Two figures walked up the path leading to the funeral.

Both are quite short and thin, One is wearing a very dark blue cloak and the other is wearing bronze colored armor under a black cape.

Walking up to the shrine Rafeo places an orb with ice and fire swirling inside it in the box on the shrine.

Placing the band around His arm, He hands one to Narenth
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Narenth places the band on His arm "Why did He have to die now? Right before the mission?" Narenth thought to Himself; He had learned not to say things like that aloud.

Seeing Kios he walked over to Him. "Master I'm sorry, I have nothing to give." says Narenth hanging His head.

Profiles:
http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/184
http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/126


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Munchlord

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Senior Member

01-17-2011

As if he had grown out of the ground next to her completely unnoticed, a yordle sized person appeared beside Abigail. However, this yordle seemed to have skin made of a patchwork of bark and insectile chitin and his hair was brownish-green leaves hanging from his head. His simple shirt and trousers was likewise made out of bark, making it more than difficult to tell where the clothing ended and his skin began. Instead of iris and pupil, his eyes were white with a spot of multi-faceted insectlike appearance corrosponding to the direction of his gaze. In spite of this mildly disturbing fact, however, the eyes were filled with ancient wisdom and honest compassion. In his right hand, he carried a wooden staff with a wasp hive at the top, but even the wasps were peaceful and calm here.

He reached up and touched Abigail's hand lightly and adressed her with a comforting and friendly tone in a voice a lot less squeaky than one would expect of a yordle.
"Feel no shame child, for you brought a parting gift of your own, even if you didn't know."

With that, he made a gesture into the air and a single one of her tears stopped in midair as it fell towards the ground, and hovered over above the Yordle's now open palm where a crystalline structure that looked more like solidified air than anything formed around the hovering tear. The entire thing laid itself to rest in the shaman's palm. As soon as it had fully formed, he pressed it gently but with a hint of insistence into Abigail's hand.

Then the creature walked slowly towards the box, limping heavily on the right leg in spite of supporting himself with the walking stick. All in all, the progress was extremely slow, but he maintained his composure and dignity nevertheless. As he reached it, he reached into his clothes and drew forth three flawless, but empty, beetle shells and placed them into the box carefully as if they were the most valuable and delicate objects in all of Valoran while he spoke softly. "Even the Ionian soil mourns your passing, yes it does. Sordes Swampwalker has been sent to represent it."

*************************

Munchlord arrived floating atop an sort of white energy disc, wearing a set of black mourning robes in traditional Ionian style. The sash that held his robe together around the waist was woven with a swirling, purple coloured draconic motifs, while his ever present runes were nearly invisible, simply a different type of black silk woven into the fabric.

With a solemn expression on his face, he floated to the box and reached into his pocket, drawing out a strange metallic object made in an alloy of platinum, gold and negatron. It had six "faces" like a die, and when one face was looked at directly, the thing looked like a flat rune. The opposing sides showed identical runes, leaving it to show a total of three, meaning Wisdom, Honor and Will.


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