Double Suicide?

[Supreme Taco]

The citizens of Sundren witnessed a wild elf drug out of the Temple of Helm, after properly being subdued and taken to the direction of City Watch for imprisonment. The scene causes a great disturbance and the commoners all question the Abbot and his Everwatch Knights on what had happened.

The Abbot remained honest and forthright with his statement to them, and his word spreads amongst the people quickly.

"The Wild Elf was quickly detained after killing the man, Cirion Reliun, within the Temple using a death spell. However this is not a simple case of murder, but assisted suicide. According to his friends that were at the Temple at the time, Cirion was grieved by the suicide of his wife to be, Yashia, and had asked the elf to end his life so he could join her. The elf agreed and put him to death with a spell.

We will not allow this. It is not His will to be assisting others in their death like so, and the Elf was properly handled according to law. With this event, we will be increasing the security and watch throughout the temple to ensure that nothing of this manner happens again.

For now, the bodies of Yashia and Cirion are being held and preserved until we can find any relatives that will claim them and put them to rest as they see fit. If you have any information on this couple's relatives, be it by blood or marriage, please inform us. For their sake, our prayers are with them."

[TheBrogueadier]

Ever keen to throw water onto an oil fire Eira spreads her own happy views on the temples events and the death of the lust-blind lovers.


“Love… It’s what people whisper say when every other method to have sex has failed.”

“I wonder how many women Cirion had whispered that to? In the sweaty afterglow of the rut how many ears heard his voice? His lie...”

“Are people’s souls so broken that they must seek out parts of another to complete themselves? How many times have young couples claimed to complete each other, called each other their better half? How little they must believe in themselves to think the only way they can be complete is to hold hands with another”

“And how broken was Cirion... Most people claim to be complete with one or two partners, but Cirion? If in love you take a part of anothers soul and join it with yours then he must have a soul like a patchwork quilt, an armour to surround his damaged soul forged from the parts stolen from others. But no matter how many he claimed to love it was never enough… His soul was never complete”

“So while Yashia stood doe-eyed with her amore, Cirion chose to rut with as many others as he could… When Yashia found out the true nature of the man she couldn’t live with the shame and killed herself. As good as murdered by Cirions cock.”

“Having failed yet another person Cirion wished death upon himself, but not enough of a man to do it himself he had another, one he called brother, do it for him… Now that one faces jail or the gallows dance, two lie dead and festering… All because of the lie of love, and Cirions wandering pants.”

[Lollercide]

It was not through the citizens or even through the Abbot that the paladin caught word of this. It was through the small hin, Rena, that Hano would discover the ill fate of his two friends, the lovers, as well as his good friend Leckith.

He couldn't believe it, no, he refused to believe it until his good friend, Osclow, reassured him.

... And he could feel it again ... With Cazen, he would head to the mountains north of Aquor.

[Urithrand]

Leckith sat in his prison cell, staring at the floor between his feet, head hung in his hands. It was not supposed to be like this. He had begged the spirit of Yashia to return, pleaded with her, tried to reason with her, but she had given up hope. She would hear none of it. But Leck loved her, he always had. He would not allow her to become part of the wall of the faithless, it was not her fate, and he would not see it happen in his long lifetime.

"I bind thee, Yashia." He intoned to her spirit after the stubborn row. "I bind you to this place and this plane. You will not move to afterlife, nor will you join the faithless in cementing the all while this remains unresolved. You will remain right here until I allow you to move either onwards or back, as you see fit." The spirit of Yashia looked horrified as he once more stepped back into the realm of the living.

.....

It had been a mixture of pain, pity and fury that led to Cirion's death. Leckith had stormed off to the temple when he learned of his brother's betrayal, intent on taking some retribution for the destruction of everything he held dear in one foul swoop. When he reached his blood brother, however, he broke. The man was a mess, ready to give up on life right there and then for the lonliness he felt without her. Leck did not know what to do. On one hand there was a mad doomsayer shouting how Cirion allowed a soul to die before her time, on the other the Everwatch knights were ready to drag Cirion away for trying to kill himself, then on the other was Cirion begging, crying, pleading Leck to end his life that he might go to yashia's spirit and be re-united with her, whether in life or death, he didn't care.

"For Yashia!" Leck cried, and his voice became booming and resonating around the temple as he felt the dark magics of his death spell reverberate up through his throat. He held out his hand and touched his "brother's" face, slaying him instantly. painlessly he hoped.

"NO!" Resia's call echoed through his skull, setting his teeth chattering. "Leck, what have you done!?"

He did not even fight back as the temple guards beat him senseless. He stood there and accepted the beating until unconsciousness took hold of him. A few blurred memories of being dragged through the streets, then the loud Clang! of the cell door slamming. Then quiet.

[DeathRose52]

Sighing softly was Varnz as he pace across the city streets looking for Cirion, How long it has been sense he seen his good friend. A man he try to help repeatedly with problems and hope one day he would raise back to his feet as a true paladin. Though word would spead like wild fire through the city about the events that had taken place. A non-believer Varn was as he rushed ever more quickly through the streets to the Temple of Helm, dodging people and animal all the like.

When he came to the temple, there was much chatter amongst the people. The guards seem to be amongst the people, Though Varnz walked over to and spoke with to find out what happen. His worried expression worn away to anger once learning what took place, his fist clenching. He would in time, have to see this Wild Elf himself, but for now he goes to send his regard to both yashia and Cirion.

[Silas North]

It was not the way this tale was supposed to end....

Their story was supposed to go on. Cybil was not supposed to be the last one standing. The child was not supposed to be the only innocent still remaining.

One of the most frustrating elements to this wicked end was the lack of remnants to strike. It was pointless, and rather disrespectful, to bring his fists upon dead bodies. And the shame still burned within the bard for even considering violence toward a pregnant Cybil. The taste of anger was bitter and the dryness of shame and fear with it kept made even the bard's favorite dish of the Sundren Comfort taste like ash, and one of their finest vintage of wine feel warm and coarse like blood mixed with soil. He knew all too well how love could make fools of men far stronger than he, or even Cirion for that matter. The realization of this, as well as how close to home this matter struck brought about a sense of dour anger and frustration that made the so-called brave Slayer of Xithis quake in his boots. To think that he too once considered the embrace of death after losing someone that meant so much to him. It was foolish, it was childish, it was downright horrifying.

Never before had he been willing to accept such ill matters as truly being the end. Even as the book, that was Cirion and Yashia's tale, was forcably closed before his very eyes, the bard could not accept things as they were.

But, if there truly was a way.. If something could be done, at what price would it come? The bard knew all too well the immense cost that came from saving a soul from the great beyond. He himself should not even be amongst the living.

Miracles were not supposed to happen twice in one land. But even though he knew this to be the case, the bard refused to listen to his own logic. Body, heart, and mind often worked differently within himself and when coupled with the strange tapestry of anger and frustration within him, his actions seemed random and sporadic.

What would he do? What COULD he do?

[Ceyrus Hawke]

Daelus, not knowing how to deal with the recent events, sought to lose himself and his cares in the bottle and in battle. He spent many a night either nursing a hangover or recovering from a fight. He even seemed eager to lash out at the slightest provocation, and it took all of his will to keep him from outright murder.

"How in the Hells could this have happened? They had it all going for them... bloody fools." Speaking to the bottle in front of him, Daelus was falling deeper into a depression that settled about him like a cloak. He shook his head and fingered the hilt of one of his blades, lost in thought. 'Could I do it myself? It would be easier than struggling with what I've got... not like I got anything to lose.' A slow smirk spreads as he brings the bottle to his lips, his red-rimmed eyes staring at the man in the mirror.

'I wonder how it was that Yashia could have done it then, I hear all these rumors and that endless blather of that walking corpse, Nocte... But really, was that all it took to drive her to open her veins?' Setting the now empty bottle down, Daelus dropped a few stags on the bar and sauntered off. He had no place to go, nowhere he belonged, but his feet kept leading him forward.

Letting his feet and mind wander, Daelus found himself standing at the doors to the Temple of Helm. He felt apprehension as he stood outside, he knew he had no right to be here. He shook his head, and turned his back to the temple, muttering to himself. "Guess this is where I say goodbye."

He walked away without a single glance back.

[Raksha]

Amazingly, past the middle of the night, those who go to visit the bodies to pay their respects find that they are no longer there.

Later in the afternoon, a practically-sleepwalking Tamryn posts a simple notice on the boards of the Temple of Helm and the Temple of the Triumvirate.

By the grace of Torm and Helm, and their own willingness to set right mistakes and take up abdicated duties, Cirion and Yashia have been returned to life.

Please refer any questions to me, when I am more fully awake.

--Noble Judicator Tamryn Jorandur, Temple of the Triumvirate