It was morning in Shoyan Hanyan….

A dedicatory reserved for the Ionu clan for generations. Here the grave makers of the Ionu clan (regardless of their bloodline) were cascaded in a circle and centered around the Ionu shine. The land around the site was weathered by the battle during Noxus’ occupation. History of conflict during those times discouraged the grass from growing around the clearing. The borders became an ideal location for a bamboo-like plant to grow in clusters. It created a thick hedge for the site, which was situated in the middle of the Pao Forest. These grounds grew a sacred balance within themselves, those with ill intent soon found themselves weakened by the serenity of the natural setting.

A new memorial was added recently. A flat, marble headstone was placed on the east wing of the circle. The engraving was simple, but emphasized with powdered metal that was pressed into the grooves:

Koragon Haelious Ionu
Sunset: January 14 21CLE
Summoner. Mentor. Friend."

The head stone was opened under those words. In front of the opening, there was an ornamental box wrought and tinted uniquely with Ionian designs and metals. Inside the box were some of his robes and his famed runebook. It was opened for anyone to give a tribute to their departed friend. A spell was woven into the box, so that no object can be taken out once it placed inside.

Behind the engraving was a meter tall pillar carved from an obsidian-like stone. Around the pillar were two metal dragons intertwined in a spiral. Their bodies intersected as they spiraled in opposing directions. Their heads were raised to the sky, carrying the symbols of Balance and Virtue in their jaws.

Around the grave were a multiple set of opened lamps. A liquid was poured into them ahead of time and would not ignite unless ‘something’ was placed in them.

As people gathered around the site, each person carried a ribbon of silk. The band was black in color with red bordering; it had the name Koragon and the emblem of Ionia in crimson. Every friend and family member carried this ribbon with them during the days of mourning.


(http://www.supload.com/listen?s=UAD2oJ <- Theme for the Funeral kindly created for us by amazing Fjord.)

(Rules are standard RP rules
no taking control of other characters
no god-moding
given the seriousness of this RP, there will be NO fights breaking out
dissenters have been warned.
Also note, these sacred grounds cancel/greatly weaken the use of magic from any one will ill intent (which will be judged by the DM's).)

Varroq tied the black band around his arm, and entered the clearing. He had his head bent in mourning, and had ripped his clothes where appropriate. He wore no shoes, another sign of mourning. He did not know Haelion Bastion very well compared to the others, but he felt slightly responsible for his death. The guilt bore into him like a drill, carving him inside out.

Xanxus and Yuu were visible behind him, Varroq would not taint the solemnity of the occasion by being curtailed by falsehoods.

Varroq walked over to the box, and took out a knife. Slowly, he slit his palm so that several drops of blood entered the box.

"My Fate joins yours; that you may pierce the Vault of Heaven."

[[ No speeches are to be given out at this time. We have a time for that.

Just post your character coming in...

If you have a gift for Haelion's afterlife, you may place it in the box described above.


This RP was set two weeks after the day of Death. Two weeks of mourning. ]]

___

Members of the Ionu clan have begun to gather around the site. Kasmiria walked among them, donning a black silk dress with blue flora patterns on the trim. Her platinum blue hair was pulled into a long ponytail and secured with silver clasp with an onyx centerpiece. The black ribbon of mourning was tied to her wrist loosely; one tip of it drooped by recent forlorn moisture .


She approached Shakkah'Haru . Putting her hands together in their form of respect, she bowed her head slightly towards him. It was a gesture she learned during her mourning with the Ionu clan. Before Ionia regained their southern territories, she helped Haelion liberate them from Noxus captivity. It was during those times, she became acquainted with the monk and other pleasant memories…


Kasmiria approached the box. In her hands, she held out a ring. The band was thicken for a male’s finger; there was some inscribed runes on the surface. The ring held jeweled bead filled water inside, from the fountain of the holy place in Hirana...A memory of their time together. With a strand of her hair was also wrapped around the ring, she placed it in the box, which she has spent hours working on. After wiping away a tear from her eye, she returned to her spot during the ceremony, close to the headstone. Her beauty was slightly marred by sadness and signs of fatigue

It still hurts, Haelion...Even with your last words of comfort. However, I'll try to keep myself strong... for the better.

Standing in front of Haelion's grave was the proud Monk warrior Shakkah'Haru, now the new leader of the Ionu Providence. With dim eyes, he stares forward at those who have gathered and are coming to the area to grieve with them. He looks around, admiring the large number of people that have already gathered in this memorable location. Shakkah's proud red cloak shined brightly in the area as he stood forth, watching those who are coming.

By the Monk's side stood the ever stoic and charismatic Captain William. For those who know The Captain, they would quickly realize that he is not wearing his usual clothing items. Instead, he is dressed in old military garment, recognizable to be affiliated with the Rune War. The armor had many proud symbols on it with a cloak hanging off the side and draping to the ground. The Captain's hair was brought back into a long tail, his hat hanging on his head tightly. He looked to the side of him at Shakkah, his eyes blank of emotion.

There was a short nod between the two and then a simple stare. They shook each others hands, both of them looking forward at the gathering group.

Walking into the Funeral grounds was someone that no one would expect.
Scarr, The Blood Letting Zealot.
He walked forward slowly, looking to the head grave. His eyes were grim as he slowly strides, making note of all those in the area.
But Scarr was not in his usual battle garments, the only clothes he was known to wear.
Instead, he was wearing a robe that draped over himself. Symbols of a Dragon and a Tiger roaring at each other luminescent on his back as they roared at each other, made still in the design. He took a seat near the front, awaiting those who came.

Through slow and steady steps, the Voidwalker brought himself forward, to this place of permeating respect and reverence. A dirge of silence muffling the air, dew drops clinging to the grass underfoot as the figure brought up an arm to the light. A shuffling of shadows, hands moving into place, and bound was the brand. A slow flex of fingers, brought up to touch the band in due honour, as the figure brought about himself, cleansing his mind of inhibitions and darker thoughts. Exhaling deeply and raising a head up to the heavens, he watches the light dance through the tree tops, cascading and washing down through the leaves above, scattered across the ground underfoot. A slow, precise nod is made, as Kassadin brings himself up towards the Altar, before placing himself into position, Vanguard for the Ceremony.

A hextech carriage, powered by its own engine, came to a stop outside of the Ionu shrine. The golden rimmed doors opened and a woman stepped through, followed by a balding man. The woman walked forward slowly, her black skirts fluttering in the breeze. The man however was much more impatient than his woman companion. He adjusted the purple cloth covering the lower portion of his face and then dusted off his fine purple robes. It was obvious that he did not come on his own accord. When the woman finally caught up, the man snorted and hurried on ahead.

“Please don’t act as if you don’t want to be here Calvorn. This is sacred place, and we are at a funeral,” the woman said calmly, her face expressionless. The man turned his head back and snorted again.

“I don’t want to be here, Yvainne. I was forced to come here, not by your inconsistent nagging, but by some higher order. Now will you hurry up, the dead man doesn’t have all day,” Amuse chuckled to himself and hurried on ahead. Yvainne sighed and turned back towards the carriage.

“Master Chipper, Senior Ming, if you’d hurry, please.” Two more bodies appeared from the carriage, one was a small Yordle with black and white fur, the only thing black on the small creature was his cloak. His companion was a woman, her hair was long and unwashed, and her clothing in disrepair. Yvainne bowed her head to the two and continued on into the Funeral grounds. The group of four made their way into the Shirne and each seats their self next to one another. Before she sat though, Yvainne walked up to Haelion's headstone and laid down two items.

A mirrored locket, the item that was Yvainne's first contact with the legendary mage. And a metal leaf, a gift that recognized Haelion as an avid fighter of the void.
~~~~~
Caroline walked through the area with her head held high. True, she was a Noxian, but even she knew to show her respect to someone infinitely more powerful than she… someone that showed concern for her. She sighed and picked at her black garments. The woman was wearing a simple black tunic and a black skirt, she didn’t want to offend anyone by wearing her Noxian garbs at the funeral in Ionian lands. Caroline scanned the room once more and then sat in the front, waiting for the multitude of people that would come and show their respect for Haelion Bastion.

~~~~

There was a brief flicker, and then a transparent figure stepped forward and began to solidify. Soon it was a large brown Yeti, using his knuckles to move forward while turning his head side to side. His eyes were shut and it was clear from the aura that he permeated that this was only an astral projection, for the real Yeti was high in the mountains of the Freljords.

The man in the black cloak walked along the trail, making his way to the headstone where the box lay open underneath it. He himself felt no true sadness for the passing of this great man, for he had learned far to early in his life that death was an inevitable part of everything and was always prepared for when it happened. But he also knew that few people would see death as that way so he tried to do what little he could to lighten the mood.

Opening a portal he drew out a beautiful flower that seemed to radiate a magical aura and placed it in the box along with the other gifts. Walking away he left a note next to the flower that read:

This flower is a symbol of the life Haelion once had. Bright, magical, and one-of-a-kind, it still represents him even through death. For as long as you remember him, he nor this flower shall ever die.

Away from a distance, the black-cloaked figure walked amongst the others in the garb of the mourning. Deadeye Sniper as some would call him, watched the proceedings as friends, family, and enemies alike all came to the monumental event to mourn the passing of perhaps one of the greatest mages this world has ever known.

A chill wind announces another arrival. One unexpected at the least and undesired in all likelyhood.

Draken Frosthand, in a full black mantles, has arrived to pay his respects.

Probably.

But he is patient, and takes his time with slow steps towards the grave.

Arriving for the first time in many years to my homeland, I can't handle the feelings in my young heart. The journey was peaceful, but I couldn't really set my mind to rest. "Ionia... so long no see... I wonder how are my parents faring?"

When I get close to the memorial place, I start walking slowly, breathing and taking note of every detail in the scene. I recognize some people, but I feel it's better not to talk with them just yet. I take my gift, a finely crafted piece of red and white cloth, and put it in the box. Then I walk away, facing the box, and stand quietly, thinking about the brief moments I spent alongside Haelion.


((Dom Zhen-Ex, Ionian Summoner http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/179))

The summoner, Necromonger arrived at the somber occasion by horse-carriage. The Family estate was a two hour ride away. With him was a young girl, the shapeshifter Vermilion. They both placed Ionian prayer charms in the box and took their place with the other guests.

Necromonger had deep respect for Haelion's work outside the League, whilst Vermilion was part of the organization Haelion was supporting.

(To be expanded)