Another year closer to death
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The first light of dawn breaks over the jagged horizon, painting the frost-covered fields around the Delzuld Estate in hues of gold and pale blue. The estate itself was still cloaked in silence, sturdy walls catching the glow of the rising sun like an ancient sentinel greeting the day. A chill lingers in the crisp morning air, and the gentle breath of winter rolls lazily across the grounds, carrying with it the faint scent of woodsmoke from distant hearths.
A man dressed in the finest garments House Delzuld can offer, coffered in blood and sand dust of the Stoneland, sits on a weathered stone bench just beyond the estate doors, the folds of his silk-lined cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders. His ivory lute rests gently on his lap, its polished surface catching the soft amber light. His fingers, usually nimble and precise, now moved with a slow reverence, as though every note deserves the weight of memory. His eyes, weary yet determined, gaze out over the horizon, watching the sun climb higher as if searching for something beyond the reach of mortal vision.
With a deep breath, he begins to play.
The melody is haunting, a tune that rises and falls like the ebb and flow of life itself. It is neither mournful nor triumphant but sits somewhere in between—a quiet reflection of a life lived in service to others, bound by duty and honor. The notes carry the weight of Xavier’s memory: the thunderous swing of his scythe cutting through the ranks of undead, the gleam of his silver armor against the moonlight, and the unwavering stoicism in his voice as he proclaimed, "Another year closer."One year closer - Xaviers final march
(By Ethan Clearnote)Beneath the sunless skies you strode, steadfast and unbowed,
In silver gleam and stoic grace, to death’s call you vowed.
A scythe in hand, you cut the path, through undead’s cursed breath,
For every swing you made, my friend, was another year closer to death.The Stonelands bore your final stand, amidst the gnollish tide,
Their savage roars were silenced by the honor you supplied.
With courage bound in faith and steel, you gave your fleeting breath,
To shield the living from their fate, another year closer to death.Though now you rest in shadow’s care, your deeds shall never fade,
A light that burns against the dark, where memories are laid.
O Xavier, of the Pallid Mask, in glory and in death,
You taught us how to face the end, another year closer... To death.
