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Deceased { Elizabeth Kane }

Spirit

Lord of Altera
Legend
Pronouns
He/Him
PudsNull
PudsNull
Legend
Seriously need Caramel and her to meet again. And for her to see he is still 5'2" and an angry goat with impossible ambitions. It'll be rad.
 

NIAH

The Lurker
Retired Staff
Elizabeth Kane is a name scarcely spoken in Storm's Landing, and her face is one that has gone unseen for several weeks now, for those that even recognized it. Her room in Queensport remains in the same disarray that she left it in her anger and letters home have slowed into silence after taking a sizeable sum of radiants with her.

For most, it is an unknown where the young woman has gone or what has happened to her.

Tagging family folk
Mitch Elz Lannis Solus

Tagging people she attempted to join the guilds of
Cukie1 Rossu

Tagging Squidziod because I ended up going this route instead
 

NIAH

The Lurker
Retired Staff
updates scattered around. still a WIP since bringing her back.


A few days ago I also decided to experiment to see if I could just RP as one character, and one character only long-term, instead of alt hopping. Guess who won as candidate?
 

NIAH

The Lurker
Retired Staff



Within the bowels of the castle, there was nothing except for the sound of her own heartbeat. Not even the conversation of the scullery maids drifted this far down, nor did the scolding of the butcher about the pork to be served the following night. Elizabeth stood in the gaping maw of the crypt and fell into its dreadful silence. There was a peace to it, in a place like this. A certain finality reverberated in the emptiness and Elizabeth felt it echoing the loudest within the dark tomb.

Carefully so as not to pour wax from her candle stub, she tilted her tiny flame forward to the unlit wicks resting on each slab. She expected her hands to shake, or her jaw to quiver but she encountered neither of those things. The shadows flickered to life to match the slow dance of the tiny flame she carried, and Elizabeth stepped back to fully regard the pair before her. There had been fanfare about Alison's passing and the messengers moved quickly to announce her Mother's passing. Her Father grew lifeless with grief in the days after, and Elizabeth hated seeing him so fallen from valor. She expected as much from him though, because he had forgotten how to live without her near him. What she had not expected, however, was a stranger delivering his body back home in a wooden box.

Elizabeth felt the grief threaten to choke her once more, but clenched jaw held it back, along with the familiar rage at discovering the manner of his murder. There were no messengers sent out that day. No word spreading by way of fanfare. Only a chasm of silent hatred for the one that had brought this tragedy to her, and years of unspoken words for the parents taken from her. A sense of blindness mingled as to what future awaited the remnants of her family. Even as she gazed on the resting places of both Alison Kane and Brennard Westmay, it felt an unreal dream.

Elizabeth inhaled and closed her eyes before the thoughts could carried her too far. A moment of composure passed into another steadying breath, and so the young woman turned to leave the candles burning in the hollow crypts of the castle. As Elizabeth abandoned the flickering shadows, she quietly whispered to the spirits, "A merry nameday indeed..."


~*~

Sixteen was a rough year. Here's to hoping for a better seventeenth.
 
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Sankera

Lord of Altera
In-Game Tech Staff
Lore Staff
Merchant
Staff
Pronouns
He/Him, They/Them
Sea_of_Fog
Sea_of_Fog
LegendMerchant
Thanks Niah you made me tear up from that in a bus
 

I am Wake

The Rose
Legend
Retired Staff
I_am_Wake
I_am_Wake
Legend
There is no greater character development then loss.
It strengthens and corrupts... or sometimes makes the character more noble or ambitious.

In the case of Elizabeth-- I am glad to be here to watch her progress and, possibly, Roleplay to see her future actions with my own character =)
 

Spirit

Lord of Altera
Legend
Pronouns
He/Him
PudsNull
PudsNull
Legend



Within the bowels of the castle, there was nothing except for the sound of her own heartbeat. Not even the conversation of the scullery maids drifted this far down, nor did the scolding of the butcher about the pork to be served the following night. Elizabeth stood in the gaping maw of the crypt and fell into its dreadful silence. There was a peace to it, in a place like this. A certain finality reverberated in the emptiness and Elizabeth felt it echoing the loudest within the dark tomb.

Carefully so as not to pour wax from her candle stub, she tilted her tiny flame forward to the unlit wicks resting on each slab. She expected her hands to shake, or her jaw to quiver but she encountered neither of those things. The shadows flickered to life to match the slow dance of the tiny flame she carried, and Elizabeth stepped back to fully regard the pair before her. There had been fanfare about Alison's passing and the messengers moved quickly to announce her Mother's passing. Her Father grew lifeless with grief in the days after, and Elizabeth hated seeing him so fallen from valor. She expected as much from him though, because he had forgotten how to live without her near him. What she had not expected, however, was a stranger delivering the body back home in a wooden box.

Elizabeth felt the grief threaten to choke her once more, but clenched jaw held it back, along with the familiar rage at discovering the manner of his murder. There were no messengers sent out that day. No word spreading by way of fanfare. Only a chasm of silent hatred for the one that had brought this tragedy to her, and years of unspoken words for the parents taken from her. A sense of blindness mingled as to what future awaited the remnants of her family. Even as she gazed on the resting places of both Alison Kane and Brennard Westmay, it felt an unreal dream.

Elizabeth inhaled and closed her eyes before the thoughts could carried her too far. A moment of composure passed into another steadying breath, and so the young woman turned to leave the candles burning in the hollow crypts of the castle. As Elizabeth abandoned the flickering shadows, she quietly whispered to the spirits, "A merry nameday indeed..."


~*~

Sixteen was a rough year. Here's to hoping for a better seventeenth.
If she's not a heavy drinker by the end of this, I swear she's a tough cookie.
 

NIAH

The Lurker
Retired Staff

"O death, wont you spare me over another year."

----

Elizabeth has taken the mantle of The Duchess of Queensport.
 
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