It's a Double Digit Eulogy!

As always, these eulogies are done from the perspective of Harold.

For Octavia
"Octavia, Octavia, ye of little and much faith
It was that Faith that sustained you, that faith that you your power, your wisdom, your might
It was that faith that led to your death
It was your faith that led to your Zebra crying out in the shadows alone
Its bellow echoing on the castle walls
Pounding the walls.  

There was always a way out for you
But you chose not that path.
There was always a way for peace
But you chose you not that path.
There was always a path to fire
And it was that path you took.

Let her death be a grave reminder once more
Of a lesson passed down from generation to generation
Never be too zealous for a cause
For it always leads to madness

But let our memories know this as well:
if you must go into the abyss of madness
Take friends with you.
For otherwise, ye shall be Octavia.
Ye of little and much faith"

Dedicated to Daisy.

For Felicia
"Felicia, oh Felicia, as Pearl's death was, you were such a tragic tale
Your silver eyes of rare beauty shall never again stare at your Royce
Your angelic wings shall never be seen by the lowly world again

Your spear, like that of the old dynasties, always seem so sure and pure
But its heart was as black as ash, its soul dirtied by the soil of the land

In a different time and place, your majestic grace, even if it was mad like a charging Holly Boy, would have been acknowledged, your followers bowing as if you were the last of the great Sindar gods
In a different world, you would be written of as though you had saved the world, as if you were the reincarnation of the greatest Wisemail of all

But you were bound by this one
You should have flown ever so high, so high that the angels themselves would be scared of you
But the pull of this world was too great

This violent world demanded the chaos embodied by Yuber
And your dragon simply was not powerful enough to soar above it all

In the end, you simply could not escape this world's gravity
And for that, dear Felicia, you became only the latest tale of woe"

Dedicated to Royce.

Eulogy: Pearl

(And as always, this week's Eulogy is performed by The Ever Loving Harold)

Pearl was a woman of great wisdom
Who always had a plan for the occasion

Of Noble Birth, Beauty and Heart
She at first was quite the sport
(Of Harmonia that is!)

She excelled in all her passions
And she fit all the world's fashions

But one day she felt a knot
And quite soon after she caused quite the riot!

With friends such as Damien, Jonah and Luther
she declared "Harmonia must fall!"

She raised a great army for liberty
the foundation of such unity

And indeed, with the Union Army
She did much for her land

But as she has now fallen
now too will others will rise

So lament the fall of Pearl
Lament the fall of her grace

But do not lament the death of the union
for it does riseth ever greater than before

Do not compare it to a phoenix
for there is no death in this army

Rally around the image of Pearl
Rally around the passion of Pearl
Rally around the injustice of her death
And Rally around Kuarjav!

Together we shall rise
Together we shall fight
Together we shall win!

For everlasting glory!

Eulogy: Joe Robot

(As Always, the Ever Lovin Harold gives a most remarkable, most amazing Eulogy to that spectacular of a robot, Joe the Robot. This Eulogy will surely go down in the great annals of history)

Harold: "Joe The Robot. He died a painful death. The end"

(Or not.)

Eulogy: Bart the Purple Parrot, I mean Pirate

(As always, told by the Ever Lovin' Harold)

Harold: "And so we are gathered at this most sacred of spots by the river, where the river finches swoon with a cry of sorrow and the Harmonian Deer lowers its head in frightened sadness, to cherish and honor this majesty of a man, a man whose might was grand, whose hat was grandeur personified, this man whose led his forces so gallantly was...uh....omm...."

Anna (Sister of Harold): "Bart the Purple Pirate."

Harold: "Wait, I'm doing a Eulogy for him, my dear Fraulein? Why do we only do this for the losers, mademoiselle?"

Anna: "It's your running joke, Harold dear."

Harold: "Oh, Le Sigh. Le sigh indeed. Oh Bart, you were of the Pirate Class, one that is among the most vulgar, most dreaded, most pointless around, you who are the swine of the Waters, one that the Runes themselves spit upon and wish they could ceaselessly end your utterly miserable existence, you who are only a waste on this lovely land and should be hunted down and burned at every pure instant that time itself, you who should never again be allowed to breathe a single molecule of air for every breath you take is one that is more deserving to any and all other such criminals, you who would --"

Anna: "Brother dear, what is with your hatred of the dreaded Pirates?"

Harold: "......................They stole my Rose Brooch once."

Anna: "Oh how dreadful! I'm so glad mine is still around, it gives my life just that much more meaning, you see what I mean oh wondrous brother!"

Harold: "............I know, alas sister, I know, for it burns my heart like a soaring comet. But enough of this, back to the Eulogy. Ah yes.....oh Bart! You with such a monstrous and absolutely foolish name, you hated dragons... and then you were eaten by one..... All right, I'm done for now. Wine time!"

Anna: "It better be a good kind, brother dear!"

Eulogy: George O'Brien, The Octopus Man

Alas Poor O'Brien, ye of little faith and little hair, ye who hunted like a tiger, smelled like a dire wolf, dressed like a charlatan, ye who offended our very eyes with your very existence, we thank the Runes in the sky and in the earth, and most importantly those in our souls, for your death.

Alas Poor O'Brien, ye who come from Octavia, a woman who shares your fetish with Octopuses, the cousin of the infamous Doctor Octopus, ye who worked with the hunters, the hunters after our very dainty Daisy's dazzling diaphragm, ye are thankful that ye disappear into the great abyss of time itself.

Alas Poor O'Brien, ye who work with a man who thought it would be wise to be able to turn into a squirrel instead of a dragon, ye who would work with a man who thought it would be wise to be able to turn into a sparrow instead a phoenix, ye who would work with a man who thought it would be wise to be able to turn into a deer instead of a great demon, we are thankful that we never had to work with you.

Alas Poor O'Brien it was you who dropped the letter about Octavia, Alas Poor O'Brien it was you who first told us about Daisy and her assassins and the great questions about her lineage and her rune, Alas Poor O'Brien, it was you who told us of yet another great threat to our lives via your Octopus Powers and made our lives a challenge at those ruins long ago. Alas Poor O'Brien, you win at the end.

For your contributions make us remember you despite your smell, your presence, your appearance and your tongue. It is because of you that we will triumph over Octavia and further save this land of Harmonia from its numerous ills. You have helped us bring the destined land that we all seek, bring this crumbling facade of an empire to its ending.

And thus you force us to remember you. Have your peace, old enemy, for you have won. Alas Poor O'Brien, we shall not forget you. Alas Poor O'Brien, we have made you eternal.


(Harold PS: We couldn't be bother to actually find an appearance of O'Brien, since he's so poor, so we found this picture of this random guy instead. It's close enough!

In Memoriam: Miles

(Told from the viewpoint of Harold Windamier via speech while traveling down the mountainside)

And lo, we stand here today in this most dreadful of ceremonies, in this air that has grown stale with disease and chaos, where all the birds dare not sing, for otherwise they be perceived as basking in the tragedy that has occurred, we come here to honor the majesty of the man who accompanied us for all of these two or so days, the great Senor Commander Miles.

Miles was an affable, oh yes my friends, oh so affable, a man who could be tricked into thinking that dogs were cats, that prisoners were soldiers and that demotions could be salvations. You, whose armor glowed like the sun itself, whose face burned like a marshmallow, you, whose arms shook like grass attacked by the four winds, you were oh so young to die!

Oh but hear us, dear Senor Miles! While your armor still lies over this grave, we shall gain vengeance for you by slaying the almighty great villain of these times. For this, we make an oath to your most sacred armor, to slay the man, the demon, the creature that they called Marcus Aurelius. We will repent for your cowardly, oh so cowardly ways, by defeating him, just as a bee would sting its foe for their queen.

Oh Miles, shall we not forget your handsome face, your tumbling spear, your oh so dashing mustache that was clearly an imitation of my very own! No Miles, we will not forget your heroically letting us do all the fighting, how you continually gave us weapons due to insanity, how you continued to whimper about. You were our pet, our colleague, and almost our dearest of friends! We who are about to step onto this cruelest of worlds, this beast of a land, shall one day join you, but only after we have honored yourself and your true passions!

Senor Miles, we may have dashed by accident your hopes, your dreams, your loves and uh, your life, but if we could go into the way-back past, where the future was but a haze, where the birds still sang, would we, could we, we would and bring you to our arms, to hear your loveable miserly ways that would make the hobos of the Crystal Valley laugh with glee. Senor Miles, may your grace and charm forever go down in history! So say we all my dear friends! So say we all!

Goodbye, Senor Miles. Goodbye.