04-27-2006, 04:01 PM
The pilgrims gather at the gates of Orgrimmar, greeting close Tribemates and old friends excitedly. There are several new faces, notably humans and Kaldorei of the Alliance also wishing to pay their respects at the Shrine. A Darkspear priestess, garbed in white robes and a feathered headdress begins the march through the canyons of Durotar. The procession stretches far behind her and more pilgrims join as it winds south through the Barrens to the Crossroads town.
Heading west from there the priestess leads a steep climb up the side of the Wailing Mountain and skirts it to a small rise that stands separately to the north. As the group scrambles up to the Shrine, a few incredulous gasps are followed by silence. A great spirit has materialized here, its wings stirring the hot Barrens air into a soothing breeze. Some choose to remain on their knees while others draw closer to the wondrous apparition. It is plain that none present have seen such a powerful manifestation outside of the spirit world. As the initial shock begins to wear off, the Darkspear Priestess is first to regain her voice.
Shillatae - "Ah'll jus' say ah'm glad so many came out, an' ask dat y'hear de words o'Haida Whitecloud o'de Shu'Halo, as recorded one year 'go by Eveline o'de Ironsong. We'll let dem begin de ceremony."
Eveline - "One year ago, many of us stood here as we are gathered now. It is meaningful that more have joined us since that time, because the occasion has been one of rememberance. Haida Whitecloud is not here with us this day, as he has been called upon by his Order to tend to other things. Last year, I was moved to tears by his words, which I will deliver now."
It is our belief that life is a journey, a path, if you will. And while we walk this path, we know the Earth Mother is always there. She speaks with the wind. She listens with the trees. She stands with the mountains. And she guides us through our friends.
In this, the Earth Mother is seen all around us. And as she is a part of us, so too are we a part of her. It is said that when we sleep, we dream. And our dreams are much like the lands of death. Now I know that some of you here live beyond death, but the land of death is also part of the Earth Mother.
It is in this land, that all of our Tribe will visit. And it is in this land, that we all will guide from. For this is where our ancestors watch over us. This is where through the power of the Earth Mother herself, they guide us. And so, when we die, we too become a greater part still of the world around us.
"There are Tribemates and friends who have left us, brave ones who fell in battle, and those who wandered far in search of new adventures. We cannot forget that never are we alone. The land is full of spirits, and our close ones never truly forsake us. It can be hard to go on, when one feels that they are alone, but such feelings are an illusion we must not give in to. For those who are gone, did not fall in vain. Their strength and courage will continue to inspire us."
Shillatae - "Now in honor o'dis event we will hear from folk o'de Horde who willin' t'share wit us t'day." She kneels before the spirit of Koiter, and Valtrinity, a shaman of the Shu'Halo steps forward.
Valtrinity - "I greet you all, members of the Horde, whether you be of Ironsong or honored guests, welcome. I also wish to thank personally the few members of the Alliance who have shown up to pay their respects. Now then. I've adressed many before, but never this many at once. It fills me with great pride and and honor to do so. I will be brief and shall tell my father's tale once again. For the sake of time, I will not go into great detail as I wish to also share a lesson from one of our own members, Altria, who couldn't be here tonight.
My full name is Valtrinity Alaris. The Alaris line of tauren, I'm sad to say has dwindled down to nearly their last. We were all proud and honorable fighters when our people wandered the lands of Kalimdor. When Thrall came to Cairne's aid, there were only three of us, myself, my mother Favaris, and my father, the proud and mighty hero Galhorn. Thunderbluff was in the process of being built. Mulgore still was rife with the Kolkar centaur. Many fighters died attempting to drive the last of their numbers from Mulgore.
But my father Galhorn did one of the greatest things. He wasn't really a soldier, but rather a weaponsmith. He knew the Kolkar were as organized as they were because of their morale, so he sought a way to break it. Crafting the legendary axe, known to our people as Mulgore's Liberator, my father Galhorn took it in hand, and along with other brave fighters began driving the Kolkar out of Mulgore. They feared my father for this reason. After many battles, my father was driven to exhaustion and had to rest. It was then the Kolkar played the most foul thing they could think of. They feigned an attack on Thunderbluff. Our encampment's soldiers were rallied to send aid, leaving us next to defenseless. It was then that they struck. My father died that night, fighting to defend his people and above all, his family."
Valtrinity pauses a moment to wipe a tear away.
"The Liberator thankfully was not taken. It was hoped by the Kolkar that with the loss of Galhorn, they would be able to reclaim their lost ground. However, my father's death only served to fuel our people's spirit. In a matter of days, the Kolkar were finally driven completely from Mulgore. My father gave his life for his people, his land, and his family. Never forget those who have sacrificed so much. That is my father's tale.
The other thing I wish to speak of is what Altria spoke to me of. Not too long ago, Altria was investigating the troggs and cultists of Ragefire below Orgrimmar. She wished to understand why they kept replacing their numbers so quickly, though she never did find out why. The answer remains inconclusive. Instead, she came up with this idea.
Though there is a great threat that sits right below Orgrimmar, there are always many young fighters going in to fight on behalf of the Horde. Why is this? Because of this. As Ironsong is my family, we belong to a larger one on a whole. The Horde is also our family. When it suffers, so do we.
I am finished with what I wanted to share. I shall turn this back over to the Priestess."
Shillatae - "T'speak on behalf o'de Orcs o'de Horde dis night, Damoxian Dread-Caller o'de Ironsong Tribe, who was also here wit us las' year afore joinin' de Tribe!"
Damoxian walks before the body of the fallen hero, placing his back to the gathered assemblage. From his sheath he draws the Claw of Chromaggus, tossing it blade first into the ground.
Damoxian - "Honor is not a thing to be discussed with words, it is a feeling one must have engraved into their bones, it must be the air we breathe to survive. This is the essence of the Orcish people. Even one such as me. I will not speak long, such is not my way. Instead I shall encapsulate what it means to me when I look down on one of the honored fallen. What it means is that my blade shall never lay sheathed for long nor will my eyes grow so heavy from age that they will not ever be watchful on the horizon. Death defending ones people is the highest honor that any orc could hope to accomplish. And to honor those who came before us we must continue this for ever more. So as this fallen orc represents the Horde, so shall every drop of blood we spill in its name. The only way to truly Honor a hero, is to become a Hero, to thrive on the ideals of a
Hero, to one day as well die a Hero. This is the essence of what being an orc is, this is what this monument stands for. A life of Blood and Thunder."
There is a roar of approval from the crowd, several of the orcs present stand and draw their weapons, eyes alight with fire. One of the humans present, a palladin, gestures to the Spirit and looks to Shillatae with eager eyes. Silence falls over the gathered as it suddenly dawns on everyone that he wishes to speak.
Shillatae - "Mebbe we can't understand 'im, but ah welcome de humans t'pay tribute."
Pantzeri - "Mod barad skilde ko noth borne. Ash mod ras Majis ash ras Landowar ne an barad aldonoth. Ko ne vohl ko ras aldonoth ash ne gothalgos. Mod ras andovis va ras borne mod nuff ne gothalgos. Ash mod lo waldir aldonoth novas nud aziris me veld va mod ne lars garde. Mod lo aldonoth ruff ash borne ruff. Manos nuff ne Landowar. Ve Majis. Mod ras Nevren Garde ash Gloin gloin nuff lo nud."
Shillatae - "We've heared from de Orcs, de Tauren, even de Humans o'de 'Liance. Will de Forsaken speak now? Pennyfeather, are yah ready t'step forward?"
Pennyfeather - "Aye, I'll spare a few words for the gathered." The forsaken priest bows to everyone in attendance.
"As I woke, for the second time, and donned once again my mantle of service, I saw the fallen before me. Across the endless plains of Tirisfall and Lordaeron, the dead lay in their restless slumber. We are here, not just to mourn and remember those lost to us, but to renew our will to fight for what is. Our enemies are as legion as stars in the sky, but still we will persevere. I am not alone in my loss, and that countless more will leave us in the years to come. But as we gather here, and pay respect to the heroes of yore, I call for the book of names to be filled with new blood! For as long as the sun will rise on every day of this cursed undeath in which I linger, I will pledge blood and gore to the vanquishment of our foes. Here, we will renew our fight, and once again welcome the end of days as the defenders of Azeroth."
Pennyfeather bows down graciously, then once more to the Priestess Shillatae.
Shillatae - "Zulgahzarg be fightin' de good fight in defense o'dese lands, so ah'm gonna say it. Le's dance! Dance f'r de dead, dance f'r de loa Samedi!"
Shillatae bursts into dance to the amazement of many onlookers. She is joined by other trolls, and gradually most everyone present until the rise is filled with life and activity.
Shillatae - "Drink deeply! Feed yerself! Share wit yer friends! Live! De spirits watch us!"
There is a pause in the dancing as many search their packs for offerings of food and drink. Soon flasks are being passed from hand to hand in the frenzy of dancing.
Shillatae - "Taz'dingo! Las' year dis time, de Loa Samedi spoke t'Warlord Sreng through mahself. Since dat time ah pledged mahself t'his service in fightin' de Hakkari. In return he has watched over de Tribe in our battles. We fulfilled ours oaths t'de Loa a good while back but de Baron, he still guardin' folk from unrightin' walkin' down paths o'de dead. Dem what go go at dere time an' we mourn 'em an' honor 'em an cheer de life we still got! Dey won' want it any other way! We give 'em our love an' respect an' we give 'em somethin' worth watchin', whether dat be a dance, or a good fight, 'r a new chil' in de world!"
Still dancing, she beckons a green-haired troll hunter forward, "Warlord! Come on up here an' we'll bend our ears yourward."
Sreng - "Greetin's ever'one. To dose dat don't know, I be Sreng, an' I be de Warlord of Ironsong. Tonight we honored de passage of souls from outta dis world... But if ya would join me, a week from tonight, I will be hostin' a celebration of life comin' into dis world. If ya look all around ya, ya see de signs of Spring. We gonna celebrate it wit' a great big party. I gonna be hostin' de Warlord's Rites of Spring, one week from tonight, in de Highlands of Arathi! Bring yer drinks, dress up in yer best, and be prepared for a wild night! Live! Love life! We got so much pain an' sufferin' in dis world, it be time to not tink 'bout it an' jus' have a good time! See ya all dere."
Shillatae - "Be ceasin' an' desistin' wit de dancin', big thanks f'r celebratin'. We still got de closin' ceremony t'hear!"
Some of the flutes are silenced, while others dance on, seemingly caught up in the celebration. The Priestess raises her voice, "Calm down now, yah gits!" and gradually all settle in a ring about the monument once more.
"T'close dis ceremony, Blademaster Kosath Whitehorn o'de Ironsong." Shillatae sits down with a contented sigh, and a white-furred tauren warrior takes her spot.
Kosath - "Greetings my friends. It has been some time since I have journeyed to this place, but it is always important to me that everyone understand its significance. I am told that it stands as a monument not only to those who have fallen in our world, but to those who have fallen across many in the great void. And I will now tell you of one in
particular, to whom this place is dedicated. For this, his brother has conveyed his love of the fallen in a poem dedicated to this place. It goes as follows:
Where once a hero set foot on his native soil a monument has risen
Where now part of his essence resides a mystic boon will be given
Upon the monument the runic initials MK have been engraved
To honor all the journeys and battles the fallen one has braved
A hero's enduring spirit transcends many worlds beyond our own
Only those with steadfast dedication find a bond with this unknown
Travel the continents and scour the lands for the shrine standing tall
For in the presence of the monolith, the warrior will be with you all.
For any who may wish to know more, I am told there is a totem pronouncing the deeds of this person. It may be found in the following land:
((In Memory of Michael Koiter))
Shillatae - "Big thanks t'all what came out wit us f'r dis pilgrimage. De 'ficial ceremony be closed but f'r dem what choose t'remain, Ol'Zul will lead us in some further Darkspear reverence!"
The Priestess winks to the venerable troll, who hops up front with a cheerful "Sure ting!"
Zulgahzarg - "Well as many of ya know I be a Priest, Magi and a Shaman too! And so I like da Spirits... and well, in da Troll's society...
When someone dies, it be not a bad ting at all!
We all have many trials, face many foes... and all have bad tings and good happen, but we get stronger from da bad and enjoy da good. Heck, Spirits be more real an tough den we be! I was not prepared for dis, so I do not have a chicken nor rum. However, one ting we can do, be ta celebrate da fact dat Koiter be stronger den ever! Dat he be everywhere all da time, and strong and honoured. So, let us dance in memory! Someone start some drums!"
There are cheers from some in the crowd and a few war Kodos are summoned to help with the music. Zul' bursts into dance and others follow.
"He be still around and strong, be happy and now cheer for all Koiter did in dis world! For his adventures continue and what he has done here has gone into forever! Tanks ma friends, for we must not fear death nor make it make us sad... It be a part of life, and it be where true life begins! Yah mon, Samedi, watch over Koiter, dance, an give him gifts! Tanks Samedi for allowing da Spirit ta be here today! Koiter, always we will remember ya, you were a great artist ma friend! And now you can do more den ana' of us! Tank ya ma friends, for lettin' me say ma peace too, to dis great warrior. I guess I better get back on patrol. Tanks again ma friends, and may da Spirits be wit ya!"
Dust rises as some call on their mounts to ride off, while others walk slowly to the base of Wailing Mountain, heading towards the Crossroads. A small group remains by the Shrine, kneeling and considering all that has been said today, or speaking in hushed whispers. An'She rolls towards the horizon as this year's ceremony comes to a close.
Heading west from there the priestess leads a steep climb up the side of the Wailing Mountain and skirts it to a small rise that stands separately to the north. As the group scrambles up to the Shrine, a few incredulous gasps are followed by silence. A great spirit has materialized here, its wings stirring the hot Barrens air into a soothing breeze. Some choose to remain on their knees while others draw closer to the wondrous apparition. It is plain that none present have seen such a powerful manifestation outside of the spirit world. As the initial shock begins to wear off, the Darkspear Priestess is first to regain her voice.
Shillatae - "Ah'll jus' say ah'm glad so many came out, an' ask dat y'hear de words o'Haida Whitecloud o'de Shu'Halo, as recorded one year 'go by Eveline o'de Ironsong. We'll let dem begin de ceremony."
Eveline - "One year ago, many of us stood here as we are gathered now. It is meaningful that more have joined us since that time, because the occasion has been one of rememberance. Haida Whitecloud is not here with us this day, as he has been called upon by his Order to tend to other things. Last year, I was moved to tears by his words, which I will deliver now."
It is our belief that life is a journey, a path, if you will. And while we walk this path, we know the Earth Mother is always there. She speaks with the wind. She listens with the trees. She stands with the mountains. And she guides us through our friends.
In this, the Earth Mother is seen all around us. And as she is a part of us, so too are we a part of her. It is said that when we sleep, we dream. And our dreams are much like the lands of death. Now I know that some of you here live beyond death, but the land of death is also part of the Earth Mother.
It is in this land, that all of our Tribe will visit. And it is in this land, that we all will guide from. For this is where our ancestors watch over us. This is where through the power of the Earth Mother herself, they guide us. And so, when we die, we too become a greater part still of the world around us.
"There are Tribemates and friends who have left us, brave ones who fell in battle, and those who wandered far in search of new adventures. We cannot forget that never are we alone. The land is full of spirits, and our close ones never truly forsake us. It can be hard to go on, when one feels that they are alone, but such feelings are an illusion we must not give in to. For those who are gone, did not fall in vain. Their strength and courage will continue to inspire us."
Shillatae - "Now in honor o'dis event we will hear from folk o'de Horde who willin' t'share wit us t'day." She kneels before the spirit of Koiter, and Valtrinity, a shaman of the Shu'Halo steps forward.
Valtrinity - "I greet you all, members of the Horde, whether you be of Ironsong or honored guests, welcome. I also wish to thank personally the few members of the Alliance who have shown up to pay their respects. Now then. I've adressed many before, but never this many at once. It fills me with great pride and and honor to do so. I will be brief and shall tell my father's tale once again. For the sake of time, I will not go into great detail as I wish to also share a lesson from one of our own members, Altria, who couldn't be here tonight.
My full name is Valtrinity Alaris. The Alaris line of tauren, I'm sad to say has dwindled down to nearly their last. We were all proud and honorable fighters when our people wandered the lands of Kalimdor. When Thrall came to Cairne's aid, there were only three of us, myself, my mother Favaris, and my father, the proud and mighty hero Galhorn. Thunderbluff was in the process of being built. Mulgore still was rife with the Kolkar centaur. Many fighters died attempting to drive the last of their numbers from Mulgore.
But my father Galhorn did one of the greatest things. He wasn't really a soldier, but rather a weaponsmith. He knew the Kolkar were as organized as they were because of their morale, so he sought a way to break it. Crafting the legendary axe, known to our people as Mulgore's Liberator, my father Galhorn took it in hand, and along with other brave fighters began driving the Kolkar out of Mulgore. They feared my father for this reason. After many battles, my father was driven to exhaustion and had to rest. It was then the Kolkar played the most foul thing they could think of. They feigned an attack on Thunderbluff. Our encampment's soldiers were rallied to send aid, leaving us next to defenseless. It was then that they struck. My father died that night, fighting to defend his people and above all, his family."
Valtrinity pauses a moment to wipe a tear away.
"The Liberator thankfully was not taken. It was hoped by the Kolkar that with the loss of Galhorn, they would be able to reclaim their lost ground. However, my father's death only served to fuel our people's spirit. In a matter of days, the Kolkar were finally driven completely from Mulgore. My father gave his life for his people, his land, and his family. Never forget those who have sacrificed so much. That is my father's tale.
The other thing I wish to speak of is what Altria spoke to me of. Not too long ago, Altria was investigating the troggs and cultists of Ragefire below Orgrimmar. She wished to understand why they kept replacing their numbers so quickly, though she never did find out why. The answer remains inconclusive. Instead, she came up with this idea.
Though there is a great threat that sits right below Orgrimmar, there are always many young fighters going in to fight on behalf of the Horde. Why is this? Because of this. As Ironsong is my family, we belong to a larger one on a whole. The Horde is also our family. When it suffers, so do we.
I am finished with what I wanted to share. I shall turn this back over to the Priestess."
Shillatae - "T'speak on behalf o'de Orcs o'de Horde dis night, Damoxian Dread-Caller o'de Ironsong Tribe, who was also here wit us las' year afore joinin' de Tribe!"
Damoxian walks before the body of the fallen hero, placing his back to the gathered assemblage. From his sheath he draws the Claw of Chromaggus, tossing it blade first into the ground.
Damoxian - "Honor is not a thing to be discussed with words, it is a feeling one must have engraved into their bones, it must be the air we breathe to survive. This is the essence of the Orcish people. Even one such as me. I will not speak long, such is not my way. Instead I shall encapsulate what it means to me when I look down on one of the honored fallen. What it means is that my blade shall never lay sheathed for long nor will my eyes grow so heavy from age that they will not ever be watchful on the horizon. Death defending ones people is the highest honor that any orc could hope to accomplish. And to honor those who came before us we must continue this for ever more. So as this fallen orc represents the Horde, so shall every drop of blood we spill in its name. The only way to truly Honor a hero, is to become a Hero, to thrive on the ideals of a
Hero, to one day as well die a Hero. This is the essence of what being an orc is, this is what this monument stands for. A life of Blood and Thunder."
There is a roar of approval from the crowd, several of the orcs present stand and draw their weapons, eyes alight with fire. One of the humans present, a palladin, gestures to the Spirit and looks to Shillatae with eager eyes. Silence falls over the gathered as it suddenly dawns on everyone that he wishes to speak.
Shillatae - "Mebbe we can't understand 'im, but ah welcome de humans t'pay tribute."
Pantzeri - "Mod barad skilde ko noth borne. Ash mod ras Majis ash ras Landowar ne an barad aldonoth. Ko ne vohl ko ras aldonoth ash ne gothalgos. Mod ras andovis va ras borne mod nuff ne gothalgos. Ash mod lo waldir aldonoth novas nud aziris me veld va mod ne lars garde. Mod lo aldonoth ruff ash borne ruff. Manos nuff ne Landowar. Ve Majis. Mod ras Nevren Garde ash Gloin gloin nuff lo nud."
Shillatae - "We've heared from de Orcs, de Tauren, even de Humans o'de 'Liance. Will de Forsaken speak now? Pennyfeather, are yah ready t'step forward?"
Pennyfeather - "Aye, I'll spare a few words for the gathered." The forsaken priest bows to everyone in attendance.
"As I woke, for the second time, and donned once again my mantle of service, I saw the fallen before me. Across the endless plains of Tirisfall and Lordaeron, the dead lay in their restless slumber. We are here, not just to mourn and remember those lost to us, but to renew our will to fight for what is. Our enemies are as legion as stars in the sky, but still we will persevere. I am not alone in my loss, and that countless more will leave us in the years to come. But as we gather here, and pay respect to the heroes of yore, I call for the book of names to be filled with new blood! For as long as the sun will rise on every day of this cursed undeath in which I linger, I will pledge blood and gore to the vanquishment of our foes. Here, we will renew our fight, and once again welcome the end of days as the defenders of Azeroth."
Pennyfeather bows down graciously, then once more to the Priestess Shillatae.
Shillatae - "Zulgahzarg be fightin' de good fight in defense o'dese lands, so ah'm gonna say it. Le's dance! Dance f'r de dead, dance f'r de loa Samedi!"
Shillatae bursts into dance to the amazement of many onlookers. She is joined by other trolls, and gradually most everyone present until the rise is filled with life and activity.
Shillatae - "Drink deeply! Feed yerself! Share wit yer friends! Live! De spirits watch us!"
There is a pause in the dancing as many search their packs for offerings of food and drink. Soon flasks are being passed from hand to hand in the frenzy of dancing.
Shillatae - "Taz'dingo! Las' year dis time, de Loa Samedi spoke t'Warlord Sreng through mahself. Since dat time ah pledged mahself t'his service in fightin' de Hakkari. In return he has watched over de Tribe in our battles. We fulfilled ours oaths t'de Loa a good while back but de Baron, he still guardin' folk from unrightin' walkin' down paths o'de dead. Dem what go go at dere time an' we mourn 'em an' honor 'em an cheer de life we still got! Dey won' want it any other way! We give 'em our love an' respect an' we give 'em somethin' worth watchin', whether dat be a dance, or a good fight, 'r a new chil' in de world!"
Still dancing, she beckons a green-haired troll hunter forward, "Warlord! Come on up here an' we'll bend our ears yourward."
Sreng - "Greetin's ever'one. To dose dat don't know, I be Sreng, an' I be de Warlord of Ironsong. Tonight we honored de passage of souls from outta dis world... But if ya would join me, a week from tonight, I will be hostin' a celebration of life comin' into dis world. If ya look all around ya, ya see de signs of Spring. We gonna celebrate it wit' a great big party. I gonna be hostin' de Warlord's Rites of Spring, one week from tonight, in de Highlands of Arathi! Bring yer drinks, dress up in yer best, and be prepared for a wild night! Live! Love life! We got so much pain an' sufferin' in dis world, it be time to not tink 'bout it an' jus' have a good time! See ya all dere."
Shillatae - "Be ceasin' an' desistin' wit de dancin', big thanks f'r celebratin'. We still got de closin' ceremony t'hear!"
Some of the flutes are silenced, while others dance on, seemingly caught up in the celebration. The Priestess raises her voice, "Calm down now, yah gits!" and gradually all settle in a ring about the monument once more.
"T'close dis ceremony, Blademaster Kosath Whitehorn o'de Ironsong." Shillatae sits down with a contented sigh, and a white-furred tauren warrior takes her spot.
Kosath - "Greetings my friends. It has been some time since I have journeyed to this place, but it is always important to me that everyone understand its significance. I am told that it stands as a monument not only to those who have fallen in our world, but to those who have fallen across many in the great void. And I will now tell you of one in
particular, to whom this place is dedicated. For this, his brother has conveyed his love of the fallen in a poem dedicated to this place. It goes as follows:
Where once a hero set foot on his native soil a monument has risen
Where now part of his essence resides a mystic boon will be given
Upon the monument the runic initials MK have been engraved
To honor all the journeys and battles the fallen one has braved
A hero's enduring spirit transcends many worlds beyond our own
Only those with steadfast dedication find a bond with this unknown
Travel the continents and scour the lands for the shrine standing tall
For in the presence of the monolith, the warrior will be with you all.
For any who may wish to know more, I am told there is a totem pronouncing the deeds of this person. It may be found in the following land:
((In Memory of Michael Koiter))
Shillatae - "Big thanks t'all what came out wit us f'r dis pilgrimage. De 'ficial ceremony be closed but f'r dem what choose t'remain, Ol'Zul will lead us in some further Darkspear reverence!"
The Priestess winks to the venerable troll, who hops up front with a cheerful "Sure ting!"
Zulgahzarg - "Well as many of ya know I be a Priest, Magi and a Shaman too! And so I like da Spirits... and well, in da Troll's society...
When someone dies, it be not a bad ting at all!
We all have many trials, face many foes... and all have bad tings and good happen, but we get stronger from da bad and enjoy da good. Heck, Spirits be more real an tough den we be! I was not prepared for dis, so I do not have a chicken nor rum. However, one ting we can do, be ta celebrate da fact dat Koiter be stronger den ever! Dat he be everywhere all da time, and strong and honoured. So, let us dance in memory! Someone start some drums!"
There are cheers from some in the crowd and a few war Kodos are summoned to help with the music. Zul' bursts into dance and others follow.
"He be still around and strong, be happy and now cheer for all Koiter did in dis world! For his adventures continue and what he has done here has gone into forever! Tanks ma friends, for we must not fear death nor make it make us sad... It be a part of life, and it be where true life begins! Yah mon, Samedi, watch over Koiter, dance, an give him gifts! Tanks Samedi for allowing da Spirit ta be here today! Koiter, always we will remember ya, you were a great artist ma friend! And now you can do more den ana' of us! Tank ya ma friends, for lettin' me say ma peace too, to dis great warrior. I guess I better get back on patrol. Tanks again ma friends, and may da Spirits be wit ya!"
Dust rises as some call on their mounts to ride off, while others walk slowly to the base of Wailing Mountain, heading towards the Crossroads. A small group remains by the Shrine, kneeling and considering all that has been said today, or speaking in hushed whispers. An'She rolls towards the horizon as this year's ceremony comes to a close.
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