Faction To Whom Honor is Due || Knights Obsidian + CIS

[Gerwald Lechner]

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WEARING: xxx

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Kyyrk was gone.​

The news had reached Gerwald Lechner via the missive which had been sent to Exarch Srina Talon. When Horus had returned without him, there had been cause for concern, concern which had been confirmed with the following communication. The mission that he and Vytal had been privy to took the man back to the Netherworld, and he intended that none would follow.​

Gerwald’s fist pounded the desk as the parchment the news had been written on was tossed into the fire.​

“Damn you, Voph,” Gerwald said aloud. “You promote me and then run off to the nether!?”​

He breathed heavy, his rage subsiding as he fell into the chair. For a moment his eyes closed, believing for just a moment that Voph would somehow hear him. As his habt had been, the wolf rolled the ring around his neck in his fingers as he spoke once more.​

“If you see Naedira, if you find her, tell her I love her, don’t let her forget.”​

The words came out with a resigned tone. He did not believe in prayer, or that his words would actually reach the miraluka, but he said them regardless. He knew what was required, though everything within the Lord Commander loathed the idea of saying goodbye to another of their ranks. A memorial was required, respects needed to be paid.​

“Give honor to whom honor is due.”​

Those words were more than a saying, they were fitting for the one who had led the Knights Obsidian past the devastation which had followed the betrayal of the previous Lord Commander before him. Had Voph not taken the mantle the Knights would have fallen apart. He had brought healing, and it fell to Gerwald to see that legacy continue.​

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A life size statue stood at the center of the raised platform in the assembly hall for the Knights Obsidian. All who could attend were called to be there to pay homage to the fallen Lord Commander. Until this day, Gerwald had refused to wear the robes which would mark him as the Lord Commander, but today he did. It still did not feel right, but the miraluka was worth the formality. Icy cold eyes remained forward, focused on the crowd in front of him. They would begin shortly. Gerwald’s part in the matter was nothing more than a small introduction before the Vicelord would take the podium.​

It was time.​

Gerwald quickly searched for the eyes of his squire who sat next to an open seat, one he would soon occupy. They had become nearly inseparable since her training as a Knight Obsidian began, though that did not mean they spent every moment together.​

His throat cleared as the lupine’s thoughts turned once more to the man who had been instrumental in helping him understand that death was not the end. Had it not been for Voph, Gerwald would have no hope that Naedira could be among the living once more.​

A deep breath in, slowly released as Gerwald clutched the small card with the words Palm-Imer helped him to craft. He was not the diplomat or orator she was, and those who knew him would know that while heartfelt, the words were not his.​

“My brother and sisters, today we gather to honor the life and service of a fallen leader. Voph was a mentor to many of us whether we were his students or not. His leadership brought us through difficult waters and served as an ointment to heal the wounds inflicted upon us by those who came before. There is much I could say,” Gerwald paused as a single tear fell from his eye, “but this honor is not mine to bestow. It is with great respect that I call upon Vicelord Darth Metus to address this solemn assembly.”​

Spoiler: TAG LIST

Alaria Telwith​

Alban Roble​

Alden Akaran​

Amelia von Sorenn​

Anakwor Farlorn​

Anashla Deshal​

Ar'tal Ktruok​

Arisone​

Archon Xris​

Ashelia Solidor​

Aston Jacobs​

Aya Clarke​

Bastille Rommer​

Beric Layne​

Bentil Mortop​

Bullwark​

Caesar Kenway​

Cazo Thraos​

Corvus Dravere​

Colton Renth​

Corran Watts​

@Cypher Rage​

Damsy Callat​

Danielle Mueller​

Darth Pryde​

Decious​

Dispara​

Draconis Sederius Wolf​

Easy-G97​

Eli-Mae Forrest​

Elsasca Selcoc​

Eryneth​

Fawn Alzi​

Faye Malvern​

FN-1138​

Gerwald Lechner ​

Holt​

Hester Shedo​

IG-65A​

Jason Farkas​

Joannis Campbell​

John Locke​

Julra Repraj​

Karlie Lynn Destat​

Kasca Fen​

Kathryn Foster​

Kayla Wylen​

Kiff Brayde​

Krystal​

Kurenai Yumi​

Kyber​

Lady Moll​

Lesya Kosarev​

Luna Terrik​

Lyla Quinn​

Lyra Vent​

Maani​

Maple Harte​

Maria Savilia​

Mathieu Brion​

Maur​

Mila Uhlesifa​

Millu Lee​

Morrigan Vale​

Muad Dib​

Myrrdin_Emries​

Nimue​

Nine Lives​

LGMForever​

Pravus Cruento​

R4-AUD​

Rabbit​

Rann Thress​

Rayne Centaris​

Razelle Breuner​

Redd​

Ryk Gaelir​

Rylan Kordel​

Sabine Delacroix​

Saram Kote​

SC-A1​

Sergei "Jack" Jachovich​

Shuklaar Kyrdol​

Srina Talon​

Startorn​

Subject 73 Red​

Taiia Mataan​

Talon Rahl​

Talak Jenste​

Tess Valnora​

Teyla Ee'everwest​

ToKola Bakari​

Tyran Numeck​

Udrid​

Uxagi Xatash​

Valencia Hadley​

Vanric Dannon​

Vemric Keldra​

Veronika Fleischer​

Vess Sadragen​

Vio Doni​

Visanj T'shkali​

Kyyrk ​

Vyse Valorous​

Vytal Noctura ​

Valeria de la Vallée​

Cord Starfall​

Telula Vale​

Alluria Ivalice​

Oleander Webb​

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[Palm-Imer]

Wearing: XxX.
Weapons: The Wraith Blades.
Tagging: Gerwald Lechner ~ Darth Metus

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The Knights Obsidian still nurtured a wound that was too recent, but there was yet one more loss that they would have to shoulder before the new way forward began. Palm-Imer had not had the honor of meeting the previous Lord Commander in person, but she had heard much of him. He had been the one to entrust the leadership of the Order to Gerwald, and she had then promised to stand by his side as he took on that monumental duty.

Now Voph was gone, but at the very least they could all take solace in knowing this had been a fate he had chosen. Yet, the weight of absence was not one that budged easily.

This was the first time she donned the ceremonial robes of the chapter she had been assigned to. Acanthus, balance. It had been the very same the late Lord Commander had called his own. With every day, it gained ground in the geminaie's heart, a blooming sense of belonging and belief settling within her. This was her new path, the first path that had been of her choosing.

As if a natural instinct guided them, the golden eyes of the geminaie moved to meet Gerwald's when he searched for them. There was understanding behind her gaze, that solemn stillness that often tainted these events. She knew the meaning this all held to him. Today, like every day, he'd have to tend to duty. She was sure each and every one of them would honor Voph in their own way, but this was also necessary. This gathering was nothing if not deserved.

Her attention remained on Gerwald as he said the words that had been put together to address the crowds. Right now she wished it was within her ability to reach out to him, to let her presence linger in his mind so that it might provide some degree of comfort. But she could not. Not yet. So all she could do was be there, and wait. Only once the last word was spoken did her eyes glide towards the Vicelord himself, Darth Metus , as they awaited his own speech.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

A red sun rises. That is what they say when it is believed blood has been spilled. People mistook those words likely uttered by a witch or other diviner of omens. They likely came upon such a person as they sat observing the rising of the sun in solitude and silence. A serene regard for dawn on a day without another. A metaphor of sorrow taken literal.

Such things made the truth difficult to describe. The Nether was not a place of reason or logic. There were no immutable laws such as those the Living were forced to suffer. The impossible became possible if a soul was daring and willing enough to see it through. A blessing and curse, that nature. Some perverted that power and threatened to undo the very underpinnings of Life itself. Even if a witch tried to describe it and the threat it posed, however, the words would be as empty as the rising of the red sun. How could words describe such terrible beauty?

Even knowing that which might yet be in the face of that which was, however, there was also knowledge that things might yet not be. Divination was as much art as science, to put it simply. Nothing was ever truly set in stone.


At the appointed time, the Nightmother glided into the Hall where the function would be held. She wore the white robes and gold trim that the former Lord Commander had given her out of respect. Emerald green eyes regarded those in attendance. A familiar scene though this time without the man's machinations of resurrection as had happened before. Seemingly a finite moment with only one outcome.

Yet, Vytal knew such things were not so constrained. If a soul was willing. Time and trouble would bear witness to the shape of things to come. Perhaps not now or tomorrow, but Voph was not unaccustomed to extended absences. Years, decades, centuries... but that had been against his will. A candle would remain lit should a willing desire conjure him back some day. Every rule had its exception. She would not be against allowing his spirit to cross back to the Living -- presuming he was bound by the Nether.

As she sat in patient vigil over the on-going proceedings, the Pale Witch's gaze regarded those of Voph's circle. It would not hurt to keep an open mind if he'd shared plans with another. An indication they knew more than had been revealed. Something for the future. Else, some measure of assurance they were in this place and understanding of events together.

Tag: Gerault Rush | Palm-Imer | Kyyrk