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The Celebration of Loss and Life was ever so well attended, including the divine presences of Rarywey and Joihe, who would entertained attendees briefly with a short exchange of pleasantries.
I started things off with a lovely song, and just as Zxctikazxcti Xiap Kue was about to share the first words, Gwendelya Tir'Randir herself stepped into the room! After everyone collected themselves, Tika shared a most lovely poem, and others soon followed suit with their own words. There was some curious butt wiggling from Zicci, and some sinister supplication hijinx from the dark warpriest Carreana.
The somber tone was eventually displaced by a celebratory song of friendship, and much revelry subsequently ensued all around. Even fireworks! (Some of the more naive attendees were rather frightened.)
With the aid of the dutiful pen of the young taleteller Odren, we've transcribed and archived the beautiful words of loss shared at this event below:
From Zxctikazxcti:
The night is brightest when the moon is full.
Unswept, unkept, unkempt and cool.
A peccant troth sighted quoth doxy-eyes dighted!
The morn forlorn skyborn expiry-toll the duel.
A dolorous sliver of silvery river.
Shall hither and thither this wittering tide.
Rapscallion winds flighted.
Twixt-twain they united!
A silent but violent prithee-pithy to the sky!
Fleeting was the being.
Thought seeing was believing...
A pretty piteous, pietous, pythoness life.
From Dotarog, for old Dotarog:
Me remembers old self. Gone now! Maybe you have old self too! Is gone now! Or maybe still is self!
But!
If is good old self. Remembers goods. Worth remember. If bad self! Is weak self! Forgets! Smash like stick!
From Zatel:
Their bodies stink...
Really.. really. Stink. Like the foul trash they are.
I listen to them, cry and moan. As darkness covers them all.
Death. Death. Death.
Their bodies no more. They lost much.
Will lose more.
For it is in the Design for them to suffer. Neverending.
From Amayra, for Lisette:
I wish to remember my friend Lisette, who always believe in me, and with her last breath, gave me direction
She was a lovely person, she was the sun if I were the moon
From Aranir:
I will be four hundred years soon.
So apparently there were many I lost.
It all started with Mayitabecoo the gnomish shifter of seas who taught me lots of things while I was young and clueless.
But there were others. Xothe the dwarven paladin is a loss of recent.
I have collected a legendary belt to give out to him, but I was late.
But nevertheless.
As well as we might want to mourn over those lost to us, there are still ones that aren't lost.
From Gwendelya, for Calithildir:
Passion honed with artistic edge,
Unrestrained but directed,
My contrarian friend, never met his end,
His method so perfected,
Now he sails, vice in hand,
All of we but a memory,
Farewell friend, will you extend,
A thought for us in your reverie?
From Zicci:
We fought with beak and claw with hate and spite. Blood and entrails.
My love. I woke from my dream. Desperately wishing to have those fights. For you are gone.
From Draxn, for Bokbok:
I hope'n Bokbok's corpse is finally entwined with the roots of nature where it belonged anyhoo.
From Ithyssraya, for Vlijerious:
My oldest friend, my greatest inspiration, the thorn in my side, and the
vibrancy to my shadowed heart. Words will never capture how much you meant to me. You fought for me when no
one else did so, and you cared more than most would ever know. May my life be a testament to all that you have taught me. I hope the sun is
warm, I will miss you eternally.
From Anonymous, for Rashign:
He was a ravenous glutton, a beast of a Dread Lord, and possessed a hunger doomed to never be sated - a true champion of the Empire.
From Ceva, for Juro:
To him with mien like stone.
Thanks is ought.
For hard lessons learned,
And hard battles fought.
I wish I could have seen
what you could have been.
Now only in dreams,
can I consider you kin.
From Odren, for Gret:
Gret, you introduced me to the art of adventuring with others and it is a joy, you are missed.
From Anonymous, for Williad:
A deadlier duergar there never was. All trembled at the thought of his flurries - Williad, Rest in Peace.
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