In the north graveyard [RP]

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

Three people arrive at the graveyard in a small huddle, one of them a very tall Triadic healer in black-trimmed white robes carrying an urn and a reliquary box with great care and reverence.

[Aoi]

On of them is rater small, normally rarely seen in the center of important things. But this seems important as she seems quiet as often, but unusually serious. Careful also not very familiar with such ceremonies in Cormyr she waits at first, if there is something they could do or help with.

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

The priest selects a place where shamrocks are growing.

"This looks suitable, shamrocks too...very appropriate...what do you two think?"

[maeglhachel]

The short-haired redhead standing beside the other two and huddled up in her winter cloak nods with a small, somewhat weak smile. "This is perfect."
After the priest is done with his work, she would bend down and place three blue flowers on the fresh grave, mumbling "I hope you find peace and happiness in that other place. And maybe you've found your parents. Farewell, Boris."

[Dobian]

A diminutive hooded woman winds her way among the tombstones, looking like she took a wrong turn at the graveyard on her way to a cocktail party. Catching her foot on a marker she snaps her four-inch heel. "Dammit!," she says, picking up the broken heel and awkwardly lurching along. She spies the small group performing their ceremony, facing away from her as she watches for a bit, before hobbling away and ducking into a mausoleum.

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

The priest finds the gravedigger and helps to clear a hole under which the urn is placed and blessed, the reliquary box is also buried and a large heavy stone placed over both by the gravedigger with assistance.

The healer spends considerable time and energy making sure that the plot is protected and has all the necessary measures taken to ensure the spiritual safety of the ashes and bones.

He lights three candles from one flame and hands them to the other two as he prays for the passage of the soul to the next life and the embrace of the departed's afterlife.

A last heavy marker stone is placed over the plot and he leans down to cast continual flame upon the rock.

"May you be welcomed into the arms of your faithful, bright deity..I am sorry I never got the chance to know you better. Rest in her light, Boris, know only peace and joy. May my lord bless you and those who grieve your passing until they are reunited with you again."

[Aoi]

The light haired young woman would allso wait, light the candle and take part in the prayers. She would in the end place three but colorful flowers.
"I know you liked colorful things. We'll see you again anytime. Until then i will go on doing what we always promised; to bring smiles and peace to others. May you find both under Tymoras protection now. Those things will keep me going. So long, Boris.", she says with a sad smile.

She takes a brief look at the dark figure, so she might know her, as family even. But as fast as she disappeared again, she stays with the others for now, maybe to find the lady in black later.

Then she would remain quiet until the end of the ceremony. She would be grateful to both who are there with her.

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

The ceremony concludes once flowers have been laid, the priest offers words of comfort to the two women as they take their time and eventually leave. He speaks quietly to the gravedigger about a stonemason to add the name "Boris Greyheart" to the stone as they leave the scene.

[Animayhem]

Marister had been watching quietly in the background. He would miss Boris. He hoped his killer's would be brought to justice.

[Aoi]

Davina would thank Henrik and Tarithel who brought Boris with her here so soon. Also she seems glad about everyone who came to say goodbye. All she wanted was a place for peace so noone could use Boris as an undead or for other cruel games. This seems to be enough for her.
There would be a time to mourn in her way, but that would go by and turn into something positive as her friend was, too. Later she would gladly think of Boris and keep him alive by shared memories, stories and anecdotes with those who care to and those who wouldn't be too hurt to think of him.

[offduty]

The moon elf wearing red and black slips silently over to the grave. Laying a red rose on the ground she whispers. "I'll miss you Peacock."

She slips away from the gave past Marister looking up at him with pain and sadness in her eyes.

[Animayhem]

Marister looked at her with sympathetic eyes and a warm smile. Should Kai wish, Marister would give her a comforting hug.

[ProfessorRum]

Quinlan hangs back as Kai leaves the rose, face tilted down, hiding the sad and regretful look in his eyes behind his beloved hat. He tries to smile for Kai, opening his arms to comfort her. Before turning away he gives the grave a last look and a pained nod, lips pressed together.

[appleseedy]

*a man in the uniform of a Purple Dragon Firstsword stops by the grave and stands for a moment in contemplation, after a moment he murmurs before walking to the North*

"i hope your somewhere better Boris"

[Deleted]

//Posted on player behalf.
This takes place days after the activity surrounding the site has decreased, during a quiet and dark night.

“Boris Boris Boris well it is the name on the stone, Boris Greyheart somewhat fitting. Such a touching display here at your grave, trinkets, plants even candles. Pity the candles are the wrong hue but do not worry sweet Boris I have brought my own.”



It was a moonless night Selune long fled the sky. The interminable winter rains had left the ground slick with a damp wet sheen that drank in whatever dim light remained. The streams of condolences and well-wishers to Boris’s grave had long since dried up. I knew it was time now.



Carefully I placed the five runic stones to surround the stone slab. At the graves foot and head, two small metallic humanoid figures of iron and brass were lovingly placed. I slipped quickly out of my shift flicking it aside with my foot. I shivered my skin prickling with goosebumps from the cold damp night air. “Nothing to bind me,” nodding to myself. Old magic has its peculiar quirks. Chanting with each measured steps I poured out the purified salt tracing out the circle that would focus and contain the arcane energies.



"Besasumi uti praesidius mai"

"Sal ut praesidius mai"

"Circulas sans orans"

"Circulas sans finitum"







Satisfied I brushed my hands on my thighs to rid myself a few remain salt flecks and to steady my raw jangled nerves. From a small vial I scooped up two dabs of viscous grey grease and smeared the mixture over my eyes. For a brief instant my eyes shone with the yellow of the sun as the inky night’s darkness slipped away. One last task of preparation remained. I steel myself and with an iron dagger I sliced open my palm to let blood drip down upon each of the rune stones. Pain and blood would be required tonight to draw the manna I desired.



“Such a pity that the accused priest has prevented your spirit from being bound Boris. My oh my, dear Boris you would have made such a grand servant; still … so many uses remain for you yet my sweet Boris, so many delightful uses. A violent death always has its power, a residue if you will. The dead may serve in so many more ways than mere animation and one so dearly loved, one cut down before his time, a tragic death as yours is such a sweet wine. ”



Drawing a deep breath I drew silent and let the gravesites ambiance wash over me. Slowly I began to swaying my hips to earthy nearly inaudible harmonic tone. Gyrating in rhythm with the telluric intonations I began the rapid articulations to draw forth the graveyards innate arcane magics. I permitted myself a small smile as the nights gloom leisurely intensified into an impenetrable Stygian darkness. Sweat slicked my skin as the pace of my exertions intensified. My heart hammered in my chest and I could sense the coiling and twisting of the thaumaturgical energies writhing about me.



"Per Velsharoon eh a haec eva omani"

"Sanctus au sal, Centi au sangiumen"

"Quinos taen que uti bellas tua tasemi"

"Libera mai Velsharoon vosi benasumi haec eva"

"Eh invocum tuum spiritum que ducem mai haec eva"

"Benedicti quo Velsharoon!"



I collapsed exhausted to the ground in mock benediction to the stone slab containing Boris’s remains.

Exhausted or not there was still steps to be taken. With a hard precise gesture I let part of my arcane powers seep into the two brass and iron statues. With a creaking groan the iron figures quickly grew in girth and stature. One could almost feel the ground sink beneath the behemoths weight. Iron black each bore a sigil of brass that glimmered with a flickering carnelian aura. I gestured to the first to open the grave while I took shelter behind the second. I quite expected a show and I was not disappointed. As the lumbering automation grasped the stone there was a brief crackle. The enchanted darkness evaporated in what would have been a blinding flash. Standing next to the stone was a twisted and fuse lump of half melted metal. I gave a respectful nod and turned my attention to the second of my servants.



“Powerful priest, but that is why there are two servants. You! Finish the task your brother failed in.”

With that the second brass and iron figure slung aside the stone lid as one might throw a pebble and deftly lifted scooped up the urn. I knew the urn would have a second ward but the trouble with many things clay they are so very malleable.



“Sometimes the brightest light do cast the best shadows.”



With that I made a series of etched changes to the urns motif. Briefly the urn was illuminated by a radiant crimson aura that ebbed and slithered deep into the vases depths. With trembling hands I greedily wrenched off the urns lid clattering it to the damp earthen ground. I sucked in my breath, there perched on top the somber grey ash was my heart’s desire. Pearl like in an ashen oyster a triangular wickedly sharp sliver of bone lay. My fingers trembled as I snatched up the ivory shard pressing it to my lips for a lovers kiss. “Yes yes yes” I cackled dancing with unbridled glee. I could feel the sharp sting and coppery tang of blood seeping into my mouth. The shard was mine!

[spyd3r97344]

sixth day of the second tenday, Mirtul 1381 - Mysteriously fresh dug unmarked empty graves have appeared in the cemetery and the digging appears to have been done somewhat crudely but with organization and the crudely carved hands of possibly a Golem, though the tracks in the graveyard appears to be the work of several different constructs including a biological substance resembling leech slime residing atop the ground.