View Full Version : The Changing Seasons

May 04, 2003, 12:51 PM
It had been more then 13 winters since John and Monica had ventured out on their own to find their fortune. As they climbed the hills where a city bearing the mark of the despot lies. They pause to reflect on their long journey

Monica: Look at this place, how its changed, I wonder if anyone will remember us!

John: Better if they don't, we don't want any trouble, the only reason we came back is because of those savages out there in the wilderness.

Monica: Thirteen winters john, thats a long time to be out on our own.

John: and look what we have to show for it he points at some pelts. Then lays down on the grass

Monica: Its enough, its more then most of the people here will have. Why do you always see the negative in everything? She sits down on the grass, and takes a bite of her drymeat

John: What positive do you see? we left the safety of the tribe because of my own thirst for adventure. And we found nothing but hardship.
Monica sits quietly, John knows shes upset, shes always quiet when shes upset. He sits up next to her as she picks blades of grass off the ground and rips them to shreds

John: I guess it wasn't all bad, if I had left alone, that would have been bad.
Monica turns to him

Monica: No, that would have been stupid, not BAD. You know you need me.
John stands up and helps Monica to stand. Monica brushes John off with her hands

John: Whats the first thing you want to do when we get back?

Monica: Have a child.
John looks over to her, a small smile has formed on her lips as she looks at him.

John: With who? john chuckles

Monica: Well, I was thinking of this guy I remember, his name was james or something, he was a really great guy, but a bit of an idiot. She elbows him

As they head back to town they pass a large gravesite, large enough for a hundred people. They know this only meant one thing: There had been a bad harvest, and the fresh dirt piled on the top, indicated it hadnt happened, very long ago.

May 04, 2003, 11:10 PM
Less then a year later

Johns health declined rapidly after Monica died during birth, he pretty much gave up. Nobody was there when he too left the earth. Noone mourned for him. Its unknown whether anyone even knew his name when they took his body out of the tent and buried it on the hill.

May 04, 2003, 11:33 PM
OOC: Well, wasn't that depressing?

May 05, 2003, 09:34 AM
Marvcus danced until he fairly swooned from the exertion but he did not falter. He knew that the spirit of the man he was serving needed help to leave the shell of his body. The flames of the offering pyre pained him but he refused to move further away. As the Karbala danced the passage of farewell townspeople slowly gathered in ones and twos. Marvcus was young to be a Karbala; so young in fact that he had scarcely completed his own manhood rights when his mentor Niven passed away. He made up for his youth with an exuberance and passion that touched all who witnessed his performance.

As he cavorted around the offering fire the many wooden loops of his piercings clattered against each other in counterpoint to the hoops he wore on his arms and feet. The great mask of the wolf, death and life personified, blurred his vision. He did not care. This was not a time for sight. It was a time for the purity of the flame, which he felt beside him and the offering of meat to the fire and sweat to the wind.

The Karbala continued to dance, far longer than the now sizeable crowd could believe. He was waiting for the sign that would tell him that his charge had passed from the dead thing below the earth and was floating free to join the spirits of life. Finally the crowd gasped collectively. The fire of the offering burned a fantastic green for several moments and then extinguished. As soon as it did, Marvcus collapsed to the ground completely exhausted.

In these times of trial and travail many nameless or forgotten folk died alone and unmissed by the great bulk of the populous. Marvcus had vowed that these people would never be forced to their final journey without the help that he could provide.

Taé Shala
May 05, 2003, 10:48 AM
Hey, isnīt that aritual burial?
I thought we donīt have it?

May 05, 2003, 11:21 AM
OOC: Ceremonial burial is quite a bit more than a ritual burial like the one detailed here.

May 05, 2003, 12:40 PM
Romana Decimus was depressed. her mother had died at the hands of barbarians. Now she was standing over a fire, watching as her mother was cremated. The process went by rather quickly for Romana as she sobbed, comforted only by the fact that she would have children of her own in a few months. Soon, the high priest asked Romana, "Where would you like you mother's ashes to be spread?"

"In the forest, she loved nature and that is where she should finally rest."

As the winds carried the ashes into the forest, a rain begin to fall symbolozing the change from fall to winter and the change in Romana's life.

May 05, 2003, 06:44 PM
OOC: Well, wasn't that depressing? Well, sorry to do it to you, but I had to work with what I get. :(

May 05, 2003, 08:28 PM
OOC: Did your child die too?