Lady Eryn Holt and Dame Sevia Tucker Laid to Rest in Raven Hill
By Risri Elthron
A somber evening in Duskwood as family and friends gathered to say their goodbyes to the two fallen members of House Holt, Lady Eryn Holt and Dame Sevia Tucker.
Two closed, glossy brown coffins laid side by side, surrounded by a wreath of pine and there located a large vase rested at the top end, heavily laden with wax and wick to be ignited at the conclusion of the ceremony.
Lady Adhelin Holt spoke first to the assembled mourners, “It has been a difficult few weeks since Eryn and Sevia’s passing, both of whom had a lot of life left to live. Sevia may not have been blood but she was part of our family, never too far from Eryn’s side. She was strong, vibrant and very patient, as one needs to be when dealing with my family. Eryn, she was driven, proud, overzealous at times but kind. She had a good heart and meant well, she also enjoyed being the more social out of all of us. Ambition drove her to become known within the trade community, many of you here tonight have some form of acquaintance or friendship with her. I would like to take this time to ask those of you who wish to say anything to please step forward at your leisure.”
The mourners stepped forth one by one to say words to honor Lady Holt.
“When I needed a neutral ear to speak to about personal matters, she always offered to listen.”
“She always looked out for the people around her, and was willing to give people chances.”
“A woman of pure benevolence, kindness, and passion. Azeroth is lessened with the loss of such a pure soul. She will be remembered. We will not let her memory fade.”
“Eryn was one of the best people you could ask for a friend. Sevia was what I can only describe as a light in the Darkness of this world. They were both compassionate and wonderful people. Sevia’s care for those around her could rival Eryn’s compassion.
They were some of the best people, and I know that even with them gone, they will never be forgotten.”
“In Acherus we learn that Death is just another stepping stone, for most of us it wasn’t a way out, but a way back in. Most of us have to grow to learn that every death means -something-. Eryn’s on just another journey now, Hopefully we will all see her again.”
“Anyone who met her was lucky to have such a kind and sweet woman as their friend. She will be missed.”
“Lady Eryn championed many virtues, fairness, compassion, and good governance. My prayer is that all of us here can meditate on the virtues she personified each day of her life and practice them in ours. And that justice can be done on her behalf and the behalf of her valiant companions who join her in the next life.”
Lady Adhelin Holt concluded the service by lighting the candle around the caskets, along with a final declaration:
“Tonight we lay to rest my sister and her loyal guardian, side by side, nearby our prior generations of family; her monument stone will read the name as Eryn Talise Stuart-Holt as she was indeed a Stuart before being a Holt. I do this so that her father might come to mourn the loss of his daughter when he visits our mother.”
“In her memory we ask that donations be made to Stormwind’s Orphanage as it was one of her more favored charities to contribute to and that any flowers be left to decorate at the base of her monument stone. We thank everyone for coming this evening and for respecting our family’s privacy these last few weeks. Safe travels everyone, shadows keep you all from harm. Be well.”
The Royal Courier offers our deepest sympathy and condolences to the Holt family.
Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; – and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!
1. Adam Day, 5SOS’ music teacher, previously revealed that Michael Clifford showed so much ambition from his early start. “Michael always said to me. ‘I’m going to be a superstar one day,’” he told Rolling Stone mag.
2. One of his favourite bars is The Nice Guy in Los Angeles
3. A few of Michael’s celeb friends are Nick Jonas and Jessica Origliasso of The Veronicas.
4. Unlike bandmate Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford likes to write darker songs like “Jet Black Heart.”
5. In fact, Ash said that Michael hated the hook in their first big single, “She Looks So Perfect.”
6. For his 20th birthday party, he borrowed a house in Beverly Hills and was kicked out of the crib in the early morning hours. Will he be able to top that this year?
7. Michael has a dog named Federer, but he only sees him a few times a year when he goes back to his parents’ home in Australia.
8. Michael suffers from a mild depression, but is all about focusing on things that make him happy.
9. With that said, he feels a bit like an advocate for mental health.
10. Despite meeting his bandmates at a Christian private school in Sydney, he doesn't attend church anymore.
11. Michael used to listen to Prince as a child, thanks to his dad.
12. He once got into a fight with James Corden during the filming of the host’s late night show. Apparently, the band kept stepping on the comedian’s lines, which caused the host to lash out on the guitarist.
13. According to Michael, his grandma sends him the worst Christmas presents every year. “My grandma buys a lot of gifts, but gets me the same shampoo every year. I don't like it. Enough with the Black Suede. I'm done with it,” he joked.
14. He's actually lost some hearing in his right ear because of screaming fans.
15. Michael first started playing guitar because he was absolutely obsessed with “Guitar Hero”.
16. He has reportedly said that he’s open to dating fans.
17. Michael’s a big fan of patterned underwear. We imagine he looks perfect standing there…
18. He’s eagerly looking forward to the release of “Final Fantasy XV”. Clearly, Michael’s a huge fan of the video game series-he even has a ‘Final Fantasy” tattoo.
19. Even with over 7.4 million followers on Twitter, Michael admitted that he isn’t the best at using the social platform.
20. Just like the rest of us, he lives for the Netflix’s “Stranger Things”.
21. Over the summer, as part of their Sounds Live Feels Live world tour, Michael and the rest of 5SOS sold out Madison Square Garden in New York City.
“Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was intensely caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.” Pride and Prejudice, chapter 43.
Okay but can you imagine Courfeyrac and Combeferre pining for each other.
They are literally the cliche, boys-next-door, I-can-see-your-room-from-mine, climbing on each other’s rooftops kind of people. It all started when Courfeyrac moved over to the neighborhood from Brazil. They were both in 5th grade and ended up walking to school together most of the time.
They bonded over exploring the forest next to their neighborhood. Combeferre went to find different types of moths and Courfeyrac pretended he was the king of the woods. They would spend warm nights laying on top of the roof with Combeferre pointing out different constellations. They spent winter sledding on a hill nearby their houses.
When Courfeyrac came out to Combeferre as pan during their freshman year of high school, he very carefully did not mention that he had feelings for him. He had relationships, but they ended because his heart was never fully in it. He kept reminding himself that falling for someone who was straight, and his best friend, would never end well.
Combeferre took longer to figure out his sexuality, labeling as demi-romantic bi sometime during college. He also avoided the fact that he came to this conclusion by his feelings for Courfeyrac developing over time.
They met Enjolras their freshman year of college because they were all in the same political science class. All three of them instantly bonded, and it resulted in Enjolras getting insight into both of their feelings.
It isn’t until their senior year when Enjolras, more than slightly tired of being in the middle of his two friends’ obliviousness, practically shuts them in a room together and forces them to talk about their feelings.
I’ve said this before a while back but I just gotta explain again… where I live in sussex there’s this house at the very top of a hill you walk up to head towards the downs, and it’s this lovely cottage with a really cute garden and there’s a swish black car in the drive with the number plate SSH and there’s a 60 yr old man who I see sometimes with a mustache and a hat who walks down the hill to go to the shops and I’m not kidding you he is exactly how you would picture Watson. I’m not saying that retired Sherlock and John live in that house on the hill but, I am saying that retired Sherlock and John live in that house on the hill.
“D‘ye remember when we gave each other blood for blood?” Ian‘s eyes were closed, but he smiled.
Jamie‘s hand tightened on the bony wrist, a little startled but not truly surprised that Ian had reached into his mind and caught the echo of his thoughts. “Aye, of course.” He couldn‘t help a small smile of his own, a painful one.
They‘d been eight years old, the two of them. Jamie‘s mother and her bairn had died the day before. The house had been full of mourners, his father dazed with shock. They had slipped out,he and Ian, scrambling up the hill behind the house, trying not to look at the fresh-dug grave by the broch. Into the wood, safe under the trees.
They had slowed then, wandering, come to a stop at last at the top of the high hill, where some old stone building that they called the fort had fallen down long ago. They‘d sat on the rubble, wrapped in their plaids against the wind, not talking much.
“I thought I‘d have a new brother,” he‘d said suddenly. “But I don‘t. It‘s just Jenny and me, still.”
In the years since, he‘d succeeded in forgetting that small pain, the loss of his hoped-for brother, the boy who might have given him back a little of his love for his older brother, Willie, dead of the smallpox. He‘d cherished that pain for a little, a flimsy shield against the enormity of knowing his mother gone forever.
Ian had sat thinking for a bit, then reached into his sporran and got out the wee knife his father had given him on his last birthday.
“I‘ll be your brother” he‘d said, matter-of-fact, and cut across his thumb, hissing a little through his teeth.
He‘d handed the knife to Jamie, who‘d cut himself, surprised that it hurt so much, and then they‘d pressed their thumbs together and sworn to be brothers always.
Retro Leading Ladies of Gaming 1- Recette LemonGrass
– Recettear: An Item Shop’s Tale
Released: December 2007 in
japan, September 2010 in NA and Europe
Game Type : Single Player Action role-playing,
“Recette Lemongrass is the main protagonist of Recettear:
An Item Shop’s Tale.
She lives alone in a house on top of a hill in Pensee
after her father decided to become a hero, and went out on an
“adventure” three months ago. Unbeknownst to Recette, he left her an
outstanding debt so big that Tear won’t even tell her the total amount!
The player takes control of Recette to buy and sell
items to gather enough “Pix”, the in-game currency, in her
house-turned-item-store, Recettear (a portmanteau of the two partners’ names,
Recette and Tear), to make increasing weekly debt payments over the course of
five weeks.” – From the Recettear Wiki
Background : Recette will be the first of many women I look at over
the year, and I’m happy the randomizer chose her first, as she’s one of my
favorite choices among girls from less known games. I could talk a lot about
the game, but for better or worse that’s not the focus here. What we are here
to talk about is the main heroine of our adventure, Recette.
Recette is a young girl of age unknown (probably between
the ages of 12-16? Who knows with these types of things?) She’s been living her
life in her home city doing dick all it seems, since her father decided to go
try and be a hero and has not returned. One day a fairy, Tear, shows up and
tells her that her dad dun got himself dead and now she’s settled with all his
debt, because apparently he took it all out in student loans and that shit
never goes away.
: Recette is… a
bit “light “ on the thoughts, and a bit more about the actions. She tends to think before she acts at times,
but is kind, thoughtful, and sincere in her words. If she says she’s going to
do something, it’ll get done. She’s also
endlessly positive and optomisitic, and despite the shitty situation she finds
herself in, she keeps on trucking, and never gives up. Much of her personality
is evened out by her co-worker/handler/knee breaker Tear, the fairy who
basically helps her set up the racket totally legit business of running the item
shop. Her personality doesn’t change too much through the game, except for her
opening up more to others, learning to believe in herself, and develop a close
friendship with Tear and the adventurers in her life.
She also has a very VERY strange and active imagination,
often letting her thoughts go where they may, often to strange places, such as
weird ways to make money, or pay off her debt. She’s also quite talented, not
only in dealing with others, but in various skills, such as needlework, knowledge
of local flora, craftsmanship, and being a pack mule for the tons of loot found
in the game: Recette’s place in the game and world is
that of an item shop owner. She’ll buy low/sell high, and work her butt off to
get the best prices, in order to acquire enough shekels to pay off her father’s
debt, and be a strong independent woman who don’t need no adventures. She can also join various adventurers in world
on their travels into dungeons, and although she cannot directly interfere, she
can assist them if they are hurt, and carry all the stuff they find to sell
later, all at the low low cost of either paying them up front, or becoming
their friends and going for free. As far as the story goes, it full revolves
around her and her attempts to make money, and once you hit endless mode, it’s
more about finding out about the other characters, the secrets behind the
dungeons and maybe even… THE ACTUAL FATE OF HER FATHER !!! DUN DUN DUN!
As a video game character she doesn’t really have much
in the way of abilities or skills, since the majority of the game is haggling,
talking, and selling shit, but that’s just fine, as it suits the mood and tone
of the game perfectly. Recettee is as capable as she needs to be, and meets any
challenges put before her.
Through the game, Recette meets and befriends
various characters, including adventurers, a rival shop runner who is snobby,
rich, and has her own fairy friend, the town vendors, and MYSTERIOUS STRANGERS.
with most things, Recette’s interactions with most of the other characters is
amusing, light hearted, and positive. There is no romantic relationship in the game,
and minimal familial one, so almost all her interactions are with friends and
Of all the relationships however, of most importance
is that she has with Tear, the fairy who came to collect on what’s owed.
Although their initial meeting wasn’t due to the best reasons, they become much
closer, with Tear eventually filling kind of a mentor/big sister role to
Recette. When the game is over, and Tear
set to leave, Recette expresses her sadness, but is overjoyed to hear Tear say
that she will stay to help because Recette is basically lost without her, and
probably will let the shop burn down due to her laziness.
Personal Thoughts - Overall, I really like Recette. I have a soft
spot for the endless optimist, and especially for one who tempers it with a
willingness to do what needs to be done, work hard, and meet their goals. Recette inspires us to
never give up, and not let bad circumstances make us bad people. She’s also
much more capable then others give her credit for, and even if a bit of an air
head, she’s not upset by it, and more than willing to listen to others, and
default to their knowledge when she’s out of her depth. She’s also a cold business woman, and is able
to make some buco bucks in quite the short time.
I’m also a big fan of her relationship with Tear, as
it’s great to see how they bounce off each other, and temper out the best and
worst parts of each others personalities. I also really like this game, so I hope that
if you haven’t played it, and you’re interested in games with female leads, business
sims, or just fun, cute games in general, you’ll give it a go.
You sat on the train, clutching the envelope in your hands as you watched the countryside roll away. You life was finally good, everything was as perfect as you could hope. You had bought a new house that sat on top a hill overlooking the little town that you’ve called home since you were a little girl, due to your current job being the best teacher at the school in town. You were able to give your Mom her dream home, as there was a small apartment for her in it. You even had persuaded your close-minded boyfriend to move into your house with you.
And then the mail came, brining you news that would take everything away. You received a letter from someone you didn’t know named Shelby. You opened it cautiously and read it one, twice, three times. Turns out your whole life had been a lie.
“My father was alive my whole life? How could you not tell me?” You shouted angrily at your mother as she sat at your table, looking unamused.
I was happy to find this scene at the top of a small hill while driving through the countryside. The land is mostly flat in this area, so I usually frame my photos with a lot of sky, but this time the foreground was interesting enough to give it some more real estate. When shooting fields I often go right up to the fence to shoot over it, but I thought this one was interesting, with it’s rusted wire and weathered wood, nature starting to take over, and of course the bird house, which seemed to be as old as the fence. The sunset started with a small patch of clouds in the distance catching the yellow light, which turned to orange and then pink as they moved toward me. I made this time stack by combining 184 photos into one image.
I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock
and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset
over the box house hills and cry.
Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron
pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed,
surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.
The only water on the river mirrored the red sky,
sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts,
just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.
Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead
gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient
–I rushed up enchanted–it was my first
sunflower, memories of Blake–my visions–Harlem
and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking
Joes greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and
unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing
stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past–
and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset,
crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye–
corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken
like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny
air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,
leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem,
gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a
dead fly in its ear,
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower
O my soul, I loved you then!
The grime was no man’s grime but death and human
all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened
railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus
or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt–industrial– modern–all that civilization
spotting your crazy golden crown–
and those blear thoughts of death and dusty
loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust,
rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car,
the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the
smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars,
wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos–all these
entangled in your mummied roots–and you standing
before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!
A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect
excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up
alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!
How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your
grime, while you cursed the heavens of your railroad and your flower soul?
Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a
flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old
locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad
You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were
And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget
So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and
stuck it at my side like a scepter,
and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack’s soul
too, and anyone who’ll listen,
–We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not our
dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we’re all golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our
own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers
in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank
sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.