The Long Road Ends

"THE LONG ROAD ENDS"
Hacking sounded from the Reverend's bedchambers in the Palatial Estate of Milais, Aelfric cloistered to those secluded confines, the ailing octogenarian away from the eyes of others as per his choosing. His boney hand, that of his right side, gripped at his pained chest as heaving coughs escaped from betwixt his lips and unto his left hand, it's palm occupied by a handkerchief. To that cloth he stared, it's surface stained not only with the mucus which so oft came to pass but too, blood entrapped in it's clear confines. As if words were written by each sputtering cough, that blood spelled death and to this, Aelfric was overcome by a solemn joy.

Weeks had passed since that first mark of blood speckled those handkerchiefs and this heralded a long awaited rest. The Reverend, a man characterized by piety, had always been at peace with death and in such contrast, so disturbed in life, scars he could not bear seeing having made themselves at home about his decrepit frame. It was not to say that he did not love life, for so many joys were derived from it--family, friends, and his work, all which he loved so dearly--yet rather, it was to say that he was nevertheless calm in the face of death, knowing full well that those pains and injuries he endured in latter years were but the final stretch of a long road to eternal union with the Divine, the Holy Spirit.

This he knew full well and as night's battle with day concluded, it's cover draping over the skies and revealing the stars, the elderly man leaned forward, body trembling in such a "strenuous" process, and to his aide he mustered, "Gottfried… Gottfried!" Aelfric's old friend Gottfried had been napping quietly on the bench beside the bed's frame, not disturbed by the same thoughts which troubled the Reverend so and instead lulled to sleep by the quiet call of crickets which sang their song outside Milais's walls. Yet, not so soundly it seemed, for upon the third call of his name did Gottfried awake, "Mm? Oh… Reverend- Are you alright?"
The Reverend dipped his head before he said, "Yes… Yes, I am fine. I merely wished to ask if you could help me out of here? I wish to find some… solace in the Chapel."
"Saint Manfried's? Well, Your Holiness, that is in the city. You are not allowed there." he replied.
Aelfric chuckled then, laughter which soon devolved into further, pained coughing, "Hah- Mmph. Not allowed, heh. I believe they will excuse it on this occasion."

With Gottfried's help, the octogenarian was lifted to his feet, his right digits wrapped firmly around the hilt of his cane, and a hat placed atop his head. With a note written by his own, shaky hand for his family, "I am off to the Chapel for prayer. Word will be sent in the morning. Much love, Your Uncle." Aelfric, alongside Gottfried, departed from Milais for the city under the cover of night.

wrgTlRp5PFpMafMu2rMbF1e8SxyrBs9EI6CxSUKTuI5mr3sdXWMO-zy3Rork0VvZO4L1dnmhK679nh4egWWtReNn0QV78Z8PrPfzieokKZlGzvCbOjMbtbgQuK8MzV1zC5aA2QL_

The gentle tapping of his cane ceased as Aelfric's sunken eyes surveyed the ornate nave which encompassed the second floor of Saints Manfried's, his lips drawing into a smile before they were once more parted as a bout of coughing ensued. With Gottfried's help did he take a few more steps, proceeding to genuflect before the altar, thereafter finding a place on the front pew. "So serene is His sanctum, Gottfried. Thank you." the Reverend dipped his head to his aide before his gaze once more wandered the chamber, "You may depart for the night then, my friend."
Gottfried's brows raised, "Depart?" he replied in near amusement. "While you're in this state?"
"Do I look that bad?" the Reverend smirked, coughing out another laugh, "Well, suit yourself, Gottfried. I pray your wife is not too angry come the morning."
Gottfried too chuckled, "I am sure she'll be fine. But I do need some rest. I will be here if you require anything of me, mm?"
"Thank you, Gottfried." Aelfric said, "Good night."
"Good night, Your Holiness."

***
It was as the sun rose, illuminating that nave in which he slept that Gottfried awoke. As his eyes opened, they were met with the still sight of the Reverend, still sitting beside him, "Your Holiness-I'm surprised to see you didn't go wandering off, heh." No reply came. "Reverend?" Gottfried inquired, rising to his feet to inspect the Reverend's features and upon his review, Gottfried sighed. Whilst a small smile was laid bare upon Aelfric's visage, the Reverend's was otherwise completely still, his eyes closed and no breath pulling in nor out from nose or mouth. His hands clasped together, they were cold and rigid, as if chiseled of stone--inseparable--it seemed he had passed praying, or at least that was Gottfried's guess.

Shakily, he spoke, "Your Holiness…" and after paying his respects through mournful prayer and solemn silence did Gottfried's arms extend to lift Aelfric. With struggle, he carried the body to the deceased's chambers in the Chapel of Saint Manfried, laying him gently on the bed and pulling the covers over his decrepit frame. With that done, Gottfried sent word to the clergy and Aelfric's family--yet the Reverend knew not, for he was no longer bound by his corporal, decrepit form--after trekking a long road and now meeting its end, he was finally at peace.

cybUFJmaHHo-WLDIzcg5X0pCuOBFQ0wsAIBD7H4STd_pNniuxBs0-_DaFE34bjKOXYxUzmL2MMt63GcBSpawZ18IQJx4S0ArDqRdSkmqZu9FypqYQ_npXDRCbv59ZTOgnZNu0xsB



*A notice would be nailed to Cathedral doors throughout the Holy City and Anglia.*

EF2OT7OlhbJ5szvc45vLp7_uoczAsRCv857VVDrndMM8U7tu5HVs2wwPRHYB4XuOANmtP3RTi5WqKaVleRfUMWhleNXOgeztf8rsWN_PrQDqCQWKnBcLziShOfNNkaFNthrB1una


OF THE HOLY SANCELLA
IM NAMEN DES IMPERII GEIST


3QY78H9gc8Yyp_vAcRxU8ZF6_3fV0thVIE8lnchCyvpfm82O21uQz7t83rpEwlrXYZu7arGxQhlPZvNtLkWsnuQPzSQWtSuJhd-x5-8o7K0Ya1o31kIlHmsh1Cxrk60yBjTIBYlP

The High Reverend Emeritus, c. 308AC.

O' Most Faithful Souls, Salutation and Imperial Benediction.

It is with great sorrow that we regret to announce the death of the High Reverend Emeritus Manfried II, His Divine, Reverend Aelfric Harhold. At the age of eighty-four, His Divine was found to have passed peacefully in the confines of his chambers this morning at the Chapel of St. Manfried. Unexpected by his family and staff, they join together in mourning the late Reverend who is, after over sixty years of service as an ordained clergyman, certainly deserving of eternal peace.
Writings of Manfried II or Aelfric Harhold:
1.Reverential Address On the United Faithful's Duties
2.Reverential Address On Redemption
3.Reverential Address On Fidelity to the Spirit
4.Reverential Address Heron Saints of Unionism
5.Reverential Address Broken Whispers
6.Reverential Address A Falling Symbol and the Flame of Faith
7.Reverential Address The Cycle of Growth
8.Reverential Address The Glory of Herons
9.Reverential Address Oh Hymns We Cry
10.Reverential Address Sermon of the Twenty-Fifth of May, 308 AC
11.Reverential Address The Spark That Enlightened the Many
12.Reverential Address A Thesis On Transcendence
13.Epistle to House Playero
14.Reverential Address A Thesis On the Power of the Reverency
15.Conclave Bull of August I
16.Reverential Address An Admonishment and a Call
17.Homily On the War
18.The Second Conclave Bull
19.Decree of the Holy Sancella
20.Reverential Address On the Lukewarm and the Necessity for Devotion
21.Reverential Address That Blessed Act of Charity
Bulls of the Synod have been omitted per the High Reverend Emeritus's request.
EF2OT7OlhbJ5szvc45vLp7_uoczAsRCv857VVDrndMM8U7tu5HVs2wwPRHYB4XuOANmtP3RTi5WqKaVleRfUMWhleNXOgeztf8rsWN_PrQDqCQWKnBcLziShOfNNkaFNthrB1una


REST IN PEACE
The High Reverend Emeritus, Aelfric Harhold CCXXV - CCCIX
Aelfric Harhold 225 AC - 309 AC
His Divine, Reverend Aelfric Harhold 252 AC - 309 AC


It was in October 2017 that I started playing Aelfric and since then, I've known him as the only character I've been able to dedicate years of my time to. From the Synod, to the Harholds, to mineman roleplay in general, it's been an absolute joy playing him and most of all, getting to interact with everyone I've come to know. Thank you everyone for the great few years.
 
Last edited:
((I only ever interacted with Aelfric in passing, but I always enjoyed it when I did. Props to you for playing such a good character, and best of luck for your future!))
 
Reflecting that of the cry was a statued man of honor, raising his shaky fingers underneath his still breathing, functional eye, willing to weep for the man and years he spent unable to see him.
 
The Villier looked out into river, silent in everything but his struggled breathing, using all the strength in him to prevent a tearful outburst. Gerard wiped his eyes as he set the blood soaked rose into the water, slight amount of blood still leaking from his palm and falling to the ground.
"Oratario Ode dear friend. Your service is over."
 
Ealireleia Carbellenor stopped to read the notice. The Solstithar Kathar muttered to herself, "I may not be a Unionist, but the deeds reverends do for the Empire offering spiritual guidance cannot be forgotten. May he rest peacefully."
 
An older Carwell sat at down within the park within Anglia, reading within a newspaper as he'd look at the headline of Reverend Harhold's passing. He'd sat still, dropping the newspaper as tears began to drop from his eyes. He could do nothing but weep, as his best friend has moved on from this life. "After so long.. I wish we had met sooner.. that we could have met years ago. But now.. I wish only for the best. Oratario Ode, my old friend." The sweeping continued for a few minutes, feeling the same sorrow as he had felt for his nephew.

I have never felt sadder to see a character die. But I am honored and grateful to have met him and enjoy the RP. I wish I had joined Massive years ago, and RP'd with him more. You and him have changed Unionism in amazing ways. Thank you so much.

Hunter B
 
Last edited:
Within the Throng of the Highlands a Ailor rushes before a congregation of url and Ailor praying in unity. The local unionists having come to join a morning of celebration quickly going silent as the news is read...The High Reverend has died.

A Url sits between his children surrounded by the masked followers of Delu, the Ainman, Splechdman, the Seinnma, the Dìonma, and the Eìstma. Their revelry turned to total silence as the news of the events was read out. James Larkson ross before his congreagation.

"
A light upon the world has gone dim, the High Reverend was a unionist yes but one of the most Honorable I have ever meet. His death shall send ripples across Aloria even if he is not one of us. I shall record his name myself and encourage all to remember it so his Urram which has grant him passage may be honored by the Ainman."

The congregation would set into mourning for the Reverend. For his life which had earned him the respect of many,

James would write upon a scroll to be sent across the Treji Clan, "I shall come to Regalia at first opportunity to mourn the loss of High Reverend Harlhold and pay my respects for whatever small but deep felt connection I had with his divine. May we all pray to whatever faith we have for him, his Arram, and his kin."

(Since others have posted in response I repost it here hope thats okay <3)
 
The heat of an unforgiving sun was blazing down on Kabili Drulvaar as he read the proclamation of death. He did not know the Reverend, nor did he think they could have ever been friends. Born on opposite sides, divine and infernal. Yet, a bloodied tear emerged from his lower eyelid, oh-so threatening to release itself.
"No wonder it's blistering today. A devout man of faith has died. May the soul rivers carry him gently."
Because despite their clear differences, they had one thing in common. A stronger-than-steel, everlasting, bound to religion.

((Never got to RP with Aelfric much, only a couple of casual encounters. Still sad to see the old man go. o7))
 
Last edited: