The scene is set within a decrypted, two-story home in the heart of crookback. Just aside from the Emporium, a glittering flicker of candlelight leaks through the upstairs windows. A faint silhouette shines through the stained glass. Within this fort of wood and stone resides a throne of oak and bark, refined and worn through as if a mountain had sat upon it for an eternity. Comfortably situated atop it was an armored figure of black and gold, helmet upon the scratched desk upon him. His head was that of a Bison, platinum grey snout to boot. With the wind chasing the light that continued to press across the window sill and out into the barren alley below he began to read his final goodbye aloud. "Dearest all. From my friends and family to my brothers in arms and craft. My enemies and those who harbor any discontent towards me, and to all I have ever met. I wish to bid you all farewell and implore you to continue your journey for I believe you all have your own journies to complete. My humblest request is that each and every one of you becomes so notorious that I hear of your tales across the seas... For in my time in Regalia, I have ventured down various avenues of life. Through peril, crime, passion, victory, and so on and so forth. And in that time it showed me that being right is not what mattered but it was leaving a legacy. There will always be those who disagree and if you're lucky plenty who will. There will always be someone that will best your accomplishments and more who will tear them down. What matters is that you set a legacy you will be proud of. What matters is if you end up content and as far as I can see. I've grown rather content with life here. When you too become content I extend the offer of joining me abroad to all who'd wish to accompany me. Sincerely Viggo J. Braggison~" The last things that lone house would ever hear for quite some time would be the packing of clothes, the sealing of letters, and the locking of the door. @RainAxe @RunicAcherus @Renajaka @Dodink @KasterBestFallen @illusi0nVA @ghosta_babes @JamiJam017 @Karthadon @KitchenRefugee @DuchBargollo @FolkFume @HuskyLeader @Peachici
The chambers of the sollerian originated household remained nothing short than dimly lit against the evening. The gold, blue, and silver accents tinted with the golden light of candles and the like, with Avael residing at his desk to handle the paperwork needed. An inked pen drifting across papers with his signature remaining on each parchment. A paper would soon fall to his desk with thanks of an entering servant, speaking that the origins of the paper were sent by the nearby courier. Curious as the Count was, Avael would open the parchment to look for himself on what his eyes laid upon. A momentary silence left himself. The Wydd-Knight stagnant to reply a word to the paper. Instead, Avael would fold the paper, shifting to a stand from his seat to move to the small shrine of Elen that the house offered, resting the paper before the altar with a mutter of prayer for the Lady of Rivers to grant his dearest friend the wisdom needed to keep safe in his travels. It was then after his minutes of worship, that he could finally speak a proper goodbye. "<Alt> May your castle never faulter, old friend."
