abandonedrealms.com 9000
|
|
|
Main Getting Started Classes Combat Economy Roleplay Races The World Help |
|
|
|
History Theran Mystique Player Essays Comic Strips |
|
|
|
Immortals Cabals Players The Graveyard |
|
|
|
Forums IRC chat Community Sites Banners Contact Us |
|
|
|
|
Obituaries 2 ************ Navatar ******* The last of our Knights to pass to the abyss was Navatar. He was more of a mix between Laskuda and Runath than most else. He had his time as the Executor of Valour after Runath's departure. He also had a chance to become Executor before Runath but he hadn't the time right then and so he conceded it to Runath. His passion for light and lust for the blood of the Legion carried him far. His zeal for what was good and his hope for light to shine was what separated him from most others in Thera. The gods were right in raising this one to the pulpit of the Wielders of Truth. Forever and a day will this one have his name on the hearts of all that care for the young, needy and light. ************************************************************ Cirrus ****** One no longer hears the cool and crisp crunch of the leaves when they strain their necks to listen to the soft footsteps of Cirrus the Ranger. His sword, the protector of nature, brought justice to the dishonorable. It brought hope to those with honor as there core of existance. The birds would sing and the trees dance at the passing of this lad that knew honor as the only way of life. The mystic powers of the lands were not welcomed by him. Power of brute strength and trust in the land around him carried him through a life where fear was not an option. If courage was a god, in him would Cirrus rest. ************************************************************* Eunshiil ******** As fires blaze high in the air, Smoke sways and flowed through his hair. Branches fell and crashed to the floor, Leaves disintegrated creating ashes galore. Red was all that could be seen, Delaying only when power convened. Lightning blasted through the trees, Lighting up the gory scene. Though fear would enter every man's soul, There is one who's endeavours were bold. Fire fought fire as his eyes halted death's advice. His hand of strength determined the roll of the dice. His form was all that would be discerned, Charging out as creation returned. |
|