Jonis the Scribe
UP: Lake Superior
The night was one that should have never happened, one that evil brought forth and good can never repair. The death of one so true in his faith and so kind in his heart, is a tragedy in anyone’s eyes.
The cold wind that swirled around my small home near Britain was an unholy one as I sat reading a primer on Virtue given to me by Lord Wellington himself. The instant I heard the tapping upon my door I knew there was some part of the world that had gone awry. I opened the door and with the messenger came that cold unholy wind. I heard it's low cold laughter. I was aware the news was bad, to venture into the woods on a night like this was foolhardy or important... I was bound to think the later.
The young boy shivered with cold and I handed him a peck of hot tea to warm his body, and he spoke still nipping from the cold, "A.. Arrion, Lo... Lord of House Wellington... is.. is..." The boy struggled to finish as I spoke, "Is what child?!" He looked up at me with a sad face and said the words I shall remember forever... "Arrion, Lord of House Wellington, Caretaker of the Chamber of Virtue... is fallen." I could not wonder what had happened; I called the boy a liar, and I glanced back at the book Arrion had given me. The boy gave me proof, a letter, Signed with the Seal of Rivendell:
Milord’s and Ladies,
‘Tis a horrid day for us. Let Virtue reign and let us remember our loss, let us care for the Chamber of Virtue in his stead and keep the Wellington name alive!
‘Tis a sad day for our city and a sadder one for those of us who knew him - Lord Wellington is fallen. He met his death while on a hunting excursion with many of our town of Rivendell.
Arrion came to me this night eager to vanquish some unholy souls in Hythloth.. I gathered a small group and we departed into the bottommost level of that foul place. The last time Lord Wellington had been in this place was when the people of our land had saved him from the grasps of Lord Darkmor. Arrion wept as we passed the cell that once held him.
We rounded the corner and there it was - the most foul and disgusting manifestation of evil that I had ever seen. Arrion charged headlong, and many a brave fighters joined him while mages saw to the casting and healing. What happened next is hard for me, not to remember but to describe. It replays in slow motion in my mind. Arrion brought Angels Tear, his trusted blade, hard onto the chest of that Daemon. As the daemon faltered it planted its right hoof into the chest of Arrion knocking him off his horse and pinning him to the ground. The mages could not see Arrion to help him and as the Daemon spoke we saw that it was too late... "There is no Virtue here!" The Daemon with its dieing breath had impaled Lord Wellington with its massive unholy sword.
‘Tis a sad day for Britannia, Let us remember Lord Arrion Wellington and Stand by our Virtues.
Friday, December 3rd, 2000
From the Town Cryer - The Journal of Ultima Online,