@taulover @Laurentus @BraveSirRobin @Hydra @NorthHere's Colby's farewell post. He forgot to post it before leaving us, but has now shared it with me. I only thought it'd be appropriate to share it here.
The orange glow of the setting sun flooded through the ornate windows of the First Bank of Wintreath. Silhouetted against the light, the Chairman of Valeria Bank gazed out over the city of Rivain. As the highest office in the bank, both figuratively and literally, the office of the Chairman afforded him an unmatched view of the seat of House Valeria. From his vantage point, the chairman could see all the way to the outskirts of the city. Rivain’s imposing towers and spires, their dark stone standing in stark relief against the amber sky, were a testament to the influence House Valeria had over centuries of the city’s growth.
As the sun neared the horizon, the Chairman sipped from a glass of wine, some of the finest that Androx had to offer. With the other hand, he stroked the head of his loyal Fenrisian icewolf, Severon, one of a pair he had brought back from a trip to Hyperion several years earlier. Severon’s mate, Numenoria, lay curled up at the Chairman’s feet. All three of them stayed just as they were, unmoving and gazing out over the city below, until the entirety of the sun disappeared below the horizon.
In the fast-fading twilight, the Chairman turned his back to the window. Setting the now-empty wineglass on the massive desk that occupied the center of the office, he opened the desk’s top left drawer and withdrew a revolver, along with a simple leather holster. He slipped the holster on with a practiced hand, sliding the revolver into its place beneath his left arm. From a shelf behind the desk he retrieved his sword belt, buckling it around his waist. His long overcoat and wide-brimmed hat, hanging from pegs near the door, were the last things to be put on.
Fingers closing over the knob of the door, the Chairman called over his shoulder, “Numenoria, Severon… Come.” The pair of icewolves slipped past him into the hallway without a sound. As he crossed the threshold of his office, the Chairman paused, looking back at the room; he knew that he would not see it again for some time. It was altogether warm and familiar and safe, and he was leaving it behind, but he took solace in knowing that he would return to it in time. Closing the door tightly behind him, he and his canine companions walked down the hall without looking back.
A fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth and light keeping the darkness and cold of the Ambassador’s study at bay. At his desk, the Ambassador put words onto paper with slow, sure strokes of his pen. As he finished each letter in turn, he scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page. When he had written and signed all that he needed to, he carefully folded and sealed them. Satisfied that all was in order, the Ambassador pulled on his overcoat and slipped the letters into an inside pocket. He turned to leave, and for the second time that evening he found himself stopped in the doorway of a room he was going to miss in the months to come. The same thought as the first time kept him moving, and he made his way down to the manor’s main hall.
While every member of the House always had a bed waiting for them at the manor, it was very often the case that the Ambassador had the entire manor to himself. Other members of the family would often stop by, but they’d rarely spend more than a night or two before continuing on to another destination. So it was that there was only person waiting for him in the main hall, flanked by a pair of Fenrisian icewolves. The Ambassador approached his old friend with a tired smile. The other man answered the unspoken question, responding, “We’re ready to depart for Hammerfell as soon as you are, sir.” The Ambassador placed a hand on his friend and assistant’s shoulder. “Thank you, Elias. I’ll be right out.” Elias nodded and took his leave, with Severon trotting after him out the door. As the Ambassador cast a fond eye over the main hall of Valeria Manor, Numenoria tilted her head and regarded him with a knowing look. With a sigh, the Ambassador scratched behind the icewolf’s ear and stepped out into the night.
The Patriarch walked along the docks of Sørhavn, Severon and Numenoria padding along to either side. His destination, at least for this stage of his journey, was finally in sight. The
Athenaeum, freshly refit from House Valeria’s own shipyards, could be seen three berths over from where they were now. The Valerian tall-ship, due to cast off in less than two hours, was bound for Hyperion. From there, its destinations remained to be seen. When it would return to the land of eternal winter, no one could say. The Patriarch would travel with it until that day.
In the past, the Patriarch’s pursuit of knowledge and wisdom had grown to interfere with his duties elsewhere. Even when he had found renewed vigor and threw himself into his work with new fervor, he eventually found himself unable to keep up with his responsibilities once again. Having had enough, the Patriarch decided to dedicate this portion of his life completely to the pursuit of knowledge. Travelling across the world was the perfect opportunity, but it meant leaving Wintreath, the place he had called home for so long.
The Patriarch reached the bottom of the gangplank, and he hesitated. This was the point of no return, at least mentally.
Am I making the right choice? Elias would watch the manor while he was gone, would keep a fire burning in the hearth for his family members to come home to; all of his letters would be delivered by courier in the week following his departure. And even in his own travels, old-fashioned mail would still catch up with him every so often. He wouldn’t be cut off completely. Reassured that everything was in order, and knowing it was time to leave, the Patriarch boarded
Athenaeum, with his icewolves by his side.
Colberius Valeria did not know when he would return to Wintreath, but he was certain that he would. Whether it be at the conclusion of his quest for knowledge or at the behest of a friend in need, he would come back. The land that had been a home for him wouldn’t stop being home just because he was away.
