Grief

A forum for followers of Death.
User avatar
Pari
Posts: 51
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:10 pm
Guild: Warlocks
Temple: Death

Grief

Post by Pari »

On this day, let it be known that Nyssa and Pari did convene at the Frostfall Outpost to meet with Grief. He has satisfied our criteria and has been welcomed as a 1st Degree Postulant.

Cold regards,

Pari.
demoness
Posts: 21
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm
Guild: Barbarians
Temple: Death

Re: Grief

Post by demoness »

Flying over the lands, searching out a soul that meets the criteria she was seeking, she thought about the interview that just took place. Seeing a man take the life of a mother who was walking her infant child down the streets, she swooped down and picked him up off his feet. His screams were loud enough to wake the dead, but sounded like cries of pleasurable pain to her. Periodically, while in flight, she would let him go, watching him flail as he fell. Just at the last moment, she'd fly down and grab him before he reached the ground. One last time she did this, but while over the mountains not far from Frostfall. She flew down and grabbed him once again. Unlike others, this time she landed at the mountain peak and gazed down at him, one claw held him tightly, the other poised over his chest.

"
May you never find peace where you will be going. That child will grow to be great, despite what you have done to it, taking its mother. May your tortures never end in Death." With that, she took the hand that was poised over his chest and pulled out his still beating heart, his eyes wide with disbelief. As she ate from his heart, feeling the force of his life swirl around her, giving her strength and then descend into Death, she twitched her nose and spoke as blood dripped down her chin, "Welcome, Grief."
Demoness Nyssa, Savant of Death
User avatar
Grief
Posts: 39
Joined: Fri Sep 09, 2016 8:40 am
Guild: Brotherhood
Temple: Death

Re: Grief

Post by Grief »

I was once “Glory” Findle. Ironic I’m now “Grief”, you’re probably thinking, but let me take a moment to explain where I come from. You see, the Findle surname references the same Findle family of Tranos fame. That is, a particularly large and proud set of blood-related Gnomes that have historically looked down upon the Tridale Ford clans because the Findles can afford a “manor home” in the big City. This, and they have been giving themselves credit for basically all the inventions from the days of yore until now. Really, almost all of them they’ll tell you were their idea in some form or another, even if they’re not directly collecting royalties in gold on those projects.

If “Glory” strikes you as a funny name, maybe you’ll be more amused by the names of my brothers, “Maximillion” and “Cash”. Or my sisters, “Splendor” and “Brilliance”. Then I have a number of aunts, uncles, and distant cousins that have similarly ridiculous names, but I won’t get entirely into all that. The more recent Findles are who are important to focus on, because they’re the ones I know who have entirely turned me off with their haughty and self-assured nature.

As I mentioned already, I could no longer stand this life of entitlement; my family feels like they’re owed something, deserving of it, without working at all for it. Cash, for example, has not lifted a finger other than to grasp the drink. Nor is Cash particularly imaginative enough for inventions or the “tinkering” that those of my family name were once known for. Max would be of base stature were he not the eldest male of the house in line to an enormous inheritance, so again there is this rampant feeling of lazy and undeserving running thick. Brilliance, well, she is unlike what her name implies and instead a bumbling imbecile consumed by material items that she has done nothing to deserve (and gets them too, because father is a fan of opulence or something), and she’s hideous so she’s not even aesthetically redeeming. And then there was Splendor.

My elder sister Splendor was different. She was something pure and honest. Intelligent. She was charitable and kind. I recall many times when she would share family wealth with the Tridale Gnomes, hoping to afford them education, supplies, or whatever they may need to prosper. Apparently she operated under some sort of code of “benevolence breeds such in kind” or something like that. But she was able to keep me calm and steady throughout my many irritations with family. In many ways she was the only representation of the Findle family that mattered at all to me. That was until of course she became my first run in with the power and finality of Death.

Splendor met Death well before her natural time, something I attribute to the attitudes of the rest. I mean, the Findles aren’t very popular with the Tridale lot and don’t win many friends with their arrogance. One day, during a normal crusade of her charity and kindness, a particularly upset group of Gnomish inventors decided to abduct Splendor. “No one would dare slay a Findle,” laughed the rest, as though they could simply throw gold at the issue and make it disappear. A ransom, surely, they thought. I pled that they employ scouts or mercenaries of some kind with their vast wealth, but they did not. “We can pay whatever they’re asking, Glory,” said Father. But in the end, no ransom was desired, it was instead a crime motivated by anger. Nothing could possibly fix the situation, helpless was I and were we. And in an instant, the only Findle that struck me as worth her salt was taken from me, but it took me far longer to fully comprehend what that meant.

This moment, this… brush with Death changed me, it spurred me to be something else. I witnessed its power to change something so pure and meaningful to me with grave permanency. I witnessed the beauty in the finality of its utility, despite my personal suffering. It was something that I still do not quite understand, but which I am eager to master. I vowed to my family on Splendor’s passing that I would not further their privileged line with any further contributions.

And so here I am, a plebe before you who has disowned this… heritage of false accomplishment, seeking to instead learn from that force which drastically changed my path. I was reborn as “Grief”, that I may have a constant reminder that I must suffer to achieve rather than simply accepting handouts as have those before me.

I believe that this is my chance to become something greater than my mere mortal vessel offers. Something which more fully appreciates Death. My soul, and the souls that come to be souls because of me, belong to Death. May I be wholly at your disposal and learn more of this force of nature that has altered me so deeply.

Return to “Temple of Death (Catseyes)”