Donrai's Funeral has started at Outside Arx - Eastern Approach - Beaches.

12 Thrax Elite Guards arrives, following Victus.

Donella holds a lit torch as she processes down to the waterfront, where a raft pyre has been prepared, crowned with a bier of driftwood as white as bone. Behind her comes the honor guard, hearty men liveried in the colors of the Thrax, silver serpents on their chests. On their shoulders they support on a funerary litter, sailcloth-wrapped form on Donrai, completely covered. Behind, the bodies of two guardsman, to accompany their lord in death as in life--also dead. There are the players of rowing drums, picking out the solemn rhythm of the processional, not so unlike the steady beat for rowing.

6 Thrax Guards arrives, following Valerius.

The Mirrormask elected to attend the event is noticeable - identifiable even - as Juliet Fidante. Escorted only by the plain-looking Lady-in-Waiting in her black and almost drab Lycene gown, Juliet stands out more, for once, by virtue of the seasilk shroud intervowen with champagne-silver, the rich metallic colours of dye and thread pooling against falls, the fabric covering the Lycene from head to toe, firelight and moving silhouettes and shadows dancing across the reflective surface. Hands clasp each other, stretching the cloth, as the Disciple waits by the pyre.

Ford coming down the beach with Ariel Darkwater attached, the Marquis stands off to the side, near the gathered folks. He looks grim, well, that's a lie. More internal than grim.

Calliope follows appropriately behind, dressed in black, representing the Grimhalls. Her customary smile is replaced by a more sombre expression, although it doesn't seem easy there. Her guard follows behind with the other guards, and Calliope's gaze is intent, watching all the other funeral goers carefully.

Victus walks besides donella in the procession to deliver Donrai's body. The flames of a torch dances and hisses in one of his hands. He moves to the rhythm of the mournful drummer. His expression is serious and somber. There's something distant, vacant even, in his dark eyes. As if part of him is elsewhere. Somewhere troubled. Somewhere, if possible, even less pleasant than a funeral. He offers little to no interaction to his surroundings, simply swallowed up and moved along by the current of the funeral rites.

Jaenelle moves towards the waterfront where the funeral is meant to take place. While Donrai was not many people's favorite, it is clear that his granddaughter is mourning the man. The usually cheerful woman remains stoic and silent as she walks behind Donella and Victus.

Darrow has his arms by his side, attired in solemn grey - mourning attire, though of course it seems he's always dressed that way. However, for once the stern lord does not look too sorrowful. His face is stony as he watches the procession, deep, depth-blue eyes tracking the three cadavers thoughtfully.

The guards that escort Belladonna fall away when she passes into the area for the funeral proper, heading down the beach and away. The Pravus Duchess is dressed in dark colors, and she certainly is having no problem wearing a somber sort of expression. The young woman that walks with her is clearly a servant, given the dress (though she's in dark silks, as well). The procession is followed in silence, giving no real indications of any reactions she might be having to all of it.

Dagon is already situated at the river, close to the funeral raft, to see his 'dearly' departed grandfather off and away. He has his hands clasped behind his back, with straight shoulders cut into a formal military pose. The men on either side of him are situated in much the same way, their faces varying from sad to grim. Dagon, for his part, has an expression that matches Victus for vacancy. But it's a forced mimicry of stoicism, at best. The furrow of his brow, and the faint squint of his eyes over the crowd give away his watchful, appraising nature.

It's like he's looking for something. There is no sorrow on his face. Not even the attempt at it.

As somber the evening might be, and as grim the funeral-goers are, Valerius is none of those things. Dressed in the armor he's been seen in recently, with his helm held under his arm, he moves with a visible swagger, that heavy metal pressing into the sand as he approaches the pyre slowly, pausing only as he watches the procession move the body. There's no sorrow in his face, no worry or distance, instead the Prince just looks on in vague amusement. Between the stagger in his step, and the redness on his tanned face, it might come to no one's surprise that this Thrax is already drunk.

When they reach the place of the ceremony, the body is put in place by the men, who wordlessly retire. Donella passes her torch into an iron holder, one of several for that purpose. The grim faces of the people of the Isles look on. Few, if any, are likly to tend to tears. Tears in our wake, never at our wake. She takes up a place beside her brother, her jaw tight as she looks to the Mirrormask, and nods.

Jasher walks with the rest of the family as they escort the former High Lord to his pyre. He's dressed in darker clothing, darker than normal, which is the only outward sign on him that he's here for a funeral. As they get to the beach, he steps to the side as Donrai is taken the rest of the way to his pyre.

Ariel looks quite somber as she stands with Ford. Her eyes then sweep the room quickly, to briefly take in all who are within and entering. Then there is Valerius and his already intoxication, though she has no reaction to it, no outwardly at least.

Ford follows the procession with his eyes. His brow knit slightly and his lips twisted to disguise the tightness of his jaw.

White wood and sputtering flames reflect against the shimmering cloth as Juliet moves, the distorted figures of the gathered crowd looking perverse and twisted as the fabric is stretched with the Mirrormask's gestures. She stands before the pyre, and offers a deep curtsey.

"Mourners of Donrai Thrax," She offers, her voice strong and clear, carrying through the night. "We are gathered here, to see the former High Lord of the Mourning Isles pass beyond the Reflection. We will remember him, who he was and what he meant to us, as his flesh burns in Lagoma's purifying flame and his soul is passed for judgement by the Thirteenth, that he may enter Elysia or rest in the Shining Lands until he is ready to re-enter the Wheel of Creation." She does not mention the possibility of the Abyss.

"Join me now, in remembering the life of Donrai Thrax - of his passions and desires. Of his virtues and sins. Pray with me to the Thirteenth for a righteous judgement of the dead Prince. Pray to Lagoma for a kindly passage through the mirror." The mirrored shroud covering her face shifts, reflecting different people as she looks from one to the other. "I will welcome, of course, testimonials to bring to mind our deceased's life and character."

Victus' attention shifts towards the mirrormask as the procession comes to an end, but again its a distracted sort of attention. None of the usual harsh and intense weight to it. He continues to here but not quite here. His posture, by reflex, becomes a broad legged stance, one hand holding the torch while the other settles against the small of his back. Like he's a captain on a ship riding into a storm, his posture one for balance and steadiness. When the call comes out to offer a testimonial or to recall the life of Donrai, he stays exactly where he is.


Dominic Thrax joins the funeral later, the whole thing uncomfortable for him which clearly shows on his face with a pout and with his body language. He sits next to his closest kin, leaning forward on to his long spear as if it were a staff. A soft mutter escapes his lips, "Tears in our wake, never at our wake." And he lowers his head to look down for a moment before he raises his attention slightly to whisper to Victus.


Dagon is straight and still as Juliet speaks. His lips are a thin, hard-pressed line. It doesn't seem like there will be any glowing testimonials coming from Donrai's former heir. He rests a hand on Reafian, the black blade at his hip, and stares hard at that covered body, as if waiting for it to spring up and dance a little jig.

Or kill somebody.

Somewhere to stand is found where she can look on and not worry for elbow room. Belladonna lets the bulk of her focus settle on the Mirrormask, letting Juliet hold her attention. She does bow her head when prayers are suggested, but she certainly does not speak up or indicate a desire to do so. Quiet and well contained.

Haati watches the proceedings, the march and the speech that Juliet gives. He doesn't step forward as he never knew much of the deceased only of the new and so he is silent, watching.

Valerius' stops in his tracks when he hears Juliet's words, his gaze immediately turning from her towards the family that's gathered here. First to Victus, then to Dagon, then Donella and Jasher. Finally, after a pause, a short laugh escapes his lips at the silence, his hand raised vibrantly up as he staggers forth, his voice loud against the silence of the gathered. "I'd like to--to say a few words," he starts, turning away from the pyre then to face the rest, "Grandfather--Grandfather was a hard man. A strong man. Born to strife and rising up to take it by the balls--" he hesitates, a short chuckle escaping his lips at that before he continues, "And he did. Never slowing, never tiring. A young man until he final days." Another laugh escapes him, his free hand lifting to run back through his oddly messy hair, "And surely he will be missed. Not a day goes by that I don't wonder what he'd have me do--what he'd have /us/ do. But we'll get by. I like to think that he's off somewhere, watching us, waiting." Another pause before he adds, "You know, tears in our wake, never at our wake and all that."

Donella looks as though there is plenty she wants to say. But owing to the training of the man on the pyre, Donella feels no impetus to move forward. She offers her hand to Jaenelle, head bowed low.

Jasher just stands there and listens to the priestess, his expression impassive as if it's the funeral of someone wholly unrelated to him or, perhaps, he's merely taken the Thrax motto to heart. Fortunately, the priestess stands by the pyre so he can keep an eye on it and the unmoving form it holds without it being obvious. It better stay unmoving. When Valerius starts to speak, his gaze flicks to his cousin then back to the body.

Calliope remains standing in the background, she never even met the man on the bier. Her gaze turns to Valerius as he speaks, smiling faintly at the Prince's eulogy. Her brow raises at the thought of the dead man waiting and watching, but she shakes that off easily enough, and goes back to her neutral expression.

Valerius's words bring Belladonna's attention up and over, and a smile curves her lips up as he continues. It doesn't last *too* long after he's finished speaking and she looks back to Juliet, but it does linger.

Dagon's fingers tighten on the hilt of his sword. His gaze focuses somewhere past Valerius as he speaks, and his jaw is wound tight against opening.

Then, suddenly, he beats a fist to his chest and calls: "Hear, hear," to Valerius's drunken ramblings. The men around him do much of the same, and one even bashes a fist to their shield, using the wood as a low drum. The Prince's face is stone, through it all.

Jaenelle takes Donella's offered hand, lacing her fingers with those of her cousin. Se listens to her brother's words, head slightly bowed and eyes lowered to the sand. There is a small arch to her brow, though that is the only outward sign of...amusement? Annoyance? Its her brother.

Briefly that vacant look in Victus' dark eyes sharpens into focus as Valerius speaks. Scarred features twists into a hard and impatient frown, like he thinks his younger cousin should shut up and get out of the way, so they can all get done with the whole thing. There's a distinct lack of amusement. He stays stubbornly silent, but its a different kind of silence now, vaguely hostile. At first that hostility is directed squarely at Valerius, but soon after he's glowering at the funeral pyre itself.

Head bowed respectfully, Darrow maintains silent vigil through the prayer to the Thirteenth. After a stretch of silence, in which those kin closest to Donrai Thrax remain stoic, silent, Darrow listens to Valerius's words. A press of his lips accompany the words, though his clear-blue eyes turn cloudy for a moment, considering them. As the silence continues to loom, he finally steps forward, speaking only once the Thrax seem to not break the silence. He speaks, blue eyes resting on the cadaver of Donrai, then turning to the Thrax family - and Margot, should she be here. Voiced in a low intonation, a solemn voice carrying as the backs of his teeth nearly grind together.

"I would not be who I am today if not for Donrai Thrax." No explanation is given. No clarity on if this is praise, damnation....or both.

2 Thrax Guards arrives, following Abbas.

Entirely oblivious to whatever looks he might be receiving from attendees and family alike, Valerius is still all-smiles, that amusement he'd shown blowing up into full-blown happiness as he as he pivots on his heels in the sand, turns to the Pyre. Darrow's words have the Prince pointing excitedly in the man's direction, as if celebrating his choice to speak, before he focuses on the body laid in preparation, and simply wiggles his fingers towards it, as a means of saying goodbye.


Dominic expels a deep exhale, turning away from his cousin Victus to watch the whole affair. He does not have anything to add and his attention seem to be elsewhere, drowning out the sounds of ceremony and his family members' words about his uncle. The giant Thrax reaches for his front pocket, patting it before turning to look into his pockets. After a moment of searching he pulls out an used cigar and leans back to deal with it. Lighting the tip with matches. He takes a long toke before offering the cigar to Victus.


Belladonna looks Darrow's way for his contribution, nodding her agreement to his words. Now she does glance around over the faces of those present, spending a few moments taking it all in before her attention swings back to Juliet. She's smiling again, though. Just a little.

Brothers are like that, Donella's face seems to say as she hold's Jaenelle's hand. Darrow's words though, seem to resonate, and she nods, muttering something beneath her breath, audible to those closest by.

Jasher can't help but snort softly as Darrow speaks up. "Now that's the truth." he murmurs, clasping his hands together behind his back.

Whatever Donella may have said under her breath causes Jaenelle to squeeze her hand tighter. Her own personal testiment is said, in whispers given to the wind and cast out to the sea.

The dreadlocks of Abbas Thrax spill down the front of his breastplate. The dark circles of dye that hang around his eyes provide a haunting visage for the Reaver Prince. Matching sets of eyes adorn the men that accompany the Warlord. He wears the austere and serpent steel that functions as his standard Thraxian attire. The expression that hangs in his beard is one of grim-dark determination. The flash of his white teeth shine through the rich sea of grey-black as he steps forward to speak. With his calloused oar and rope burned hands residing on the head of each individual one-handed axe the man speaks up finally about Donrai.

"When I was a child I feared Hisself and aspired to be as ruthless and cold in my manner at sea." The man begins in a gravel filled tone, "Not too long ago I spoke to Donrai Thrax and he told me that when it came to doing what needed to be done with callous disregard for all but Thraxian glory that I was the grandchild of his most like him."

Abbas pauses and hefts a bottle of rum, "He was a Thraxian. He was born of the Salt. He carried the Salt in his veins and he ruled with an iron determination, wit, and a steadfast resolve to steer the Leviathan against the dark tides of fate. His rule was brilliant and his heart was as cold as a reaver's touch upon the pitch of the Salt. Long did he reign with fear and terror. Long did the sight of the serpent banner send shivers into the hearts of steadfast men."

"He was Thraxian to the core.. tears flew like a maelstrom in his wake."

Abbas concludes, "I will drink here, tonight.. at his wake. And celebrate the man as all Thraxians are due that live the Salt Life."

Abbas uncorks the rum and pours some into the sand. He then takes the bottle and drinks it down before passing it back to his men and stepping back.

Juliet allows for some silence and for other volunteers, but as they don't seem to be forthcoming, she shrugs. The mask shifts to the Godsworn Priest, who's stoking the fire. Moving to hand out torches, with murmured words to each mourner, as everyone is given one of the sanctified torches. Lagoma's blessing in a time of change. And, once that is done, the man steps over to the bier, to speak a shor - and notably clipped - little rite. Donrai was, after all, excommunicated and unrepentant about it.

The Mirrormask, meanwhile, steps a bit forward. "I invite you all, then, to look one last time upon Donrai Thrax; before you set the fires. See him unvarnished. See him as the mirror saw him. See all of the man, as he was and let Lagoma's fires burn his sins away. Let the Thirtenth weigh his soul. Let him rejoin the wheel a better man, or rise to Elysia as an exemplar, should the gods find him worthy." She manages to speak with clear conviction. Perhaps it helps that her face merely mirrors that of the mourners she is looking to - starting with the High Lord, and moving over to Donella, to Jaenelle, to Jasher and Dagon and Dominic and Valerius and Abbas, over the remainders of the Thrax family and offering a sweeping gaze to the rest, before she gestures to him. "We will now do two processions. First, one to give your last words to the deceased, advice for him to take with him to the Shining Lands and his next life. Then, a second where you will add your torches to the fire, so that he may burn in purity by Lagoma's blessed flame."

Then, she gestures to Victus, to let the High Lord start the procession.

Abbas's words leave Dagon with little change in his face, but for the narrowing of those midnight blues upon the body of Donrai. And as Juliet's call goes up, explaining the remainder of the funeral, Dagon's jaw works, as if he might tack on more words. But it stays firmly shut, and he turns instead to Donella -- raising a hand to squeeze her arm in a soft, reassuring manner.

Then he leaves, without words to guide Donrai, nor fire to see him purified. He walks through the sand, his troop of guards following him with curious looks upon their faces.

Victus listens as Abbas speaks, that harsh frown on his face staying constant. There's a flicker of something on his lips, a sneer perhaps, though its hard to tell. A bit of pearly white teeth shows. Again he goes away, his focus turning inward on himself. Its only when Juliet gestures to him (and one of his guards gives him a little helpful nudge) that he blinks and returns.

He gives his head a shake, then steps forward, and skips the first part of the procession despite instruction. No advise or last words for the old man. He just tosses the torch into the pyre instead. When he turns away again he's moving away not just from the pyre, but from the funeral. Apparently the High Lord thinks his part in all of this is done, and wants no more of it.

Donella says something quiet to the pyre as the torch flies. She does nothing to stop it, or to remove it. She simply passes by, and too, is herslef content to walk a ways up the beach to watch it burn from a great distance.

6 Thrax Guards leaves, following Dagon.

12 Thrax Elite Guards leaves, following Victus.

Calliope inclines her head as she listens to Abbas, smiling faintly as he pours some rum onto the sand. Watching the torches as they're tossed, she just remains briefly before fading into the background, leaving the funeral

Abbas makes his way to the pyre and tosses his torch on the pile. Nothing is said in that moment. The man simply turns and grunts and goes to his rum. He returns to his men and they open a few bottles. The rest pour a little out and then they begin to get their shit-faced on.

The offer to speak final words to Donrai has Valerius stepping forward towards the pyre, making no attempts to hush himself or be quiet about it in any way. "You tried to make me into the man you wanted me to be," his bright grin remains solid as he drops his helm to the sand for a moment and holds his arms out wide, "Well, look where that's gotten us." Another light laugh escapes him, he reaches down to scoop up that helm that fell, and promptly takes a torch and tosses it in when it's his turn.

Clearing her throat when Victus just throws his torch in, Belladonna lingers back for a little while to give others the opportunity, then slips down to both drop her own torch in and to say a few quiet words to the probably-by-now-burning body. They're accompanied by a little sly smile, and then she's stepping away just far enough to be out of the way of others, wrapping her arms in around her middle to stare at the fire.

Alexander leaves, following Calliope.


Dominic leans back, holding on to the spear as he smoke from his cigar. He fills his lungs to the max before expelling the smoke to the air infront of him. As expected, his siblings begin to spread out and go back to work. This brings a grin to his face and he raises up to grab a torch and throw it. He chuckles, "I have a feeling this is not the last we will be seeing you, uncle." And says before walking off and joining his guards and pig outside.


Jasher has nothing to say to Donrai and his torch joins others in being tossed onto the pyre. Once that's done, he walks into the pavilion to pour himself a glass from the bottle set there.

"Good bye grandfather" Jaenelle tells the man as it is her turn to step forward. She is composed, chin lifted, looking very much like a mixture of the the Thrax sea serpant and the Velenosa she was told to become, the dress of scales skimming her form. "Tell my parents that I am doing well. They would be proud." Then she takes her torch and adds it with the others.

Donella is overheard praising Jasher for: You handled arrangements beautifully.

Donella is overheard praising Darrow for: You said a mouthful.

Darrow "I give you the same guidance you gave me." Darrow stabs a torch into the pyre, eyes stormy, and then the hard-bitten Lord, who was once a bitter, young ward of Donrai at Maelstrom turns, stalking off up the hill in silence, gaze hooded.

"I give you the same guidance you gave me." Darrow stabs a torch into the pyre, eyes stormy, and then the hard-bitten Lord, who was once a bitter, young ward of Donrai at Maelstrom turns, stalking off up the hill in silence, gaze hooded.

Juliet waits until everyone has said their piece - the wood crackling and the fire burning helping conceal the whispers of the mourners. While she has no torch, the Mirrormask does see fit to whisper to the corpse. Then, she pauses - mask reflection Jaenelle, though her words are for everyone. "If there is a wish to speak more privately and remember Donrai, to mourn or to express your feelings, whatever they may be, I am of course, happy to speak with you." Glancing across the people who remain, she moves, to circle, to speak to people individually, or to merely thank them for coming.

Donella is overheard praising Juliet for: We appreciate your effort.

Ford steps down to the pyre and grabs a torch. He makes to throw the torch into the fire but stops short, then leans forward. It's clear he's saying words, but unclear what. Then he tosses the torch in with all the regard of chucking another log on the fire. The Marquis then about faces and makes his way back to the city.

Laughter goes up around Abbas as he shares pant-crapping stories of Donrai with his reavers. Moments of when the man came down with indignations or fury. Or the fear in the eyes of those who trembled before him. They do not discuss the evil things. The things that made him hated. Now was the time to not lament his wake. But send the man to ash with spiteful laugher and copious rum.

Juliet is overheard praising Jasher for: A fitting farewell to the High Lord of Thrax.

Abbas is overheard praising Jasher for: For doing what is right for someone who is wrong.

Abbas is overheard praising Juliet for: For helping the funeral

Juliet is overheard praising Abbas for: A good testimonial about the life and times of Donrai Thrax

Juliet is overheard praising Valerius for: For being the first to speak

Juliet is overheard praising Darrow for: Succinct, but evocative

Oh, Belladonna eavesdrops on Abbas and his stories, lingering close enough to catch at least some of them. Otherwise she mostly just hangs about and watches the fire burn. There's a nod of her head for Juliet, polite, but she offers up no words that way.

Juliet is overheard praising Donella for: For seeing Donrai safely to his final destination

Jasher is overheard praising Juliet for: A fine ceremony in a delicate situation.

Juliet is overheard praising Jaenelle for: For remembering the dead kindly.

Jaenelle offers Juliet a warm smile, "you are a lovely person, inside and out. Thank you for your offer, it is touching and perhaps I shall take you up on such." As her family begins to leave the beach, the Princess turns as well, "perhaps later in a more private setting" she adds, nodding with another dip of her head before she begins to slip away.

Darrow is overheard praising Jasher for: At least the body of Donrai Thrax can rest easy, even if the rest of Thrax cannot.

As the fire ramps up, Valerius' gaze is locked entirely on it, that grin widening even further as he watches the body burn. Then, apparently done with the thing, he turns about, makes his way towards Belladonna, and greets her with a kind of enthusiasm likely reserved for people who didn't just burn the body of the man who raised them. "I wasn't aware you were familiar with my grandfather," he starts, that smile only lingering as he finishes his approach, "But thank you for coming. A fine funeral for a /very/ great man." There's more than a hint of sarcasm in his latter words, a drunken laugh escaping him.

Juliet offers a nod in turn to Belladonna. Then bows her head to the Princess. and dips into a deeper bow. "Of course, Princess. I look forward to speaking with you again." She takes a few steps and offers a shroud-covered hand to pat at Jasher's. "Thank you for your invitation. I am honoured to have been allowed to serve."

Ariel walks up to the fire and watches it burn. A calm and collected appearance upon her face, though hints of sadness linger in her eyes. A smile given to Juliet as she walks over towards her but waits to speak to her until after the ceremony to serve her proper respect to him.

"One time, this thrall came in..." Abbas begins to tell his men, "Donrai was on the dais and receiving them. The man was brought forth to be relieved of his debt and cast free." He laughs, "Then he came before Donrai and threw himself down and begged his forgiveness for stealing a bottle of rum. He begged not to be flayed alive." The man continues, "When Donrai told him he was to be forgiven his debt and release he began weeping with praise. Everyone was shocked..." He pauses, "Then on his way out he paused the man, told him as a free man stealing from Thrax was punishible by death. And had him flayed free." A chuckle goes up. Abbas then adds, "He was a right cold bastard. He knew how to play at the strings of loyalty and emotion. I always wondered what he was like in his youth and upon the Salt."

"Thank you for coming." Jasher says to Juliet. "You chose your words well, given the circumstances." Briefly, he looks over toward the pyre and adds "I'll be thanking Legate Orazio as well for recommending you and letting him know that we were very pleased with your discretion."

There's a tip of her head to the young woman that accompanies her as Valerius approaches, and she steps back and out of immediate conversational range. Belladonna watches him with a tilted head as he approaches, her smile only appearing about halfway into him speaking. But she does smile, a chuckle escaping her throat for the sarcastic words. "I was," she tells him, for being familiar. Not that she elaborates. "I am glad that I was allowed to be here." Her head turns a bit as she catches Abbas's words, and that smile on her lips sharpens a bit. She clears her throat again when he finishes, refocuses up on Valerius.

"I have been honoured to serve the Thirteenth and House Thrax in this matter," Juliet offers, quietly to Jasher. She might be smiling - the shroud merely reflects Jasher's face, cast in the light of the crackling flames of the pyre. "And I thank you for your kind words. May the life of Donrai Thrax serve to inspire you to face yourself in the mirror and choose the man you wish to be." Idly, she shifts her head, to give a nod at the approaching Ariel, and then to look in the direction of the more loud stories shared by Abbas.

Valerius' drunken gaze lingers on Belladonna in silence as she speaks, his grin not leaving him for a moment. When she looks over towards Abbas, his gaze follows, and after a moment he stares at his cousin, that jovial demeanor shifting a bit. Eventually he clears his throat and nods, "Well, as I said, thank you for coming. Tell your wonderful husband that the three of us should share a drink again soon." With that out of the way, he struggles momentarily to pull his helm up onto his head before he turns, intent to make his way off of the beach as well.

Dark eyes shift from his reavers to Belladonna. The eyes of Abbas narrow ever so slightly and then he dips his head in her direction. He hefts his near empty bottle of rum towards her in salute and then kills it with a few slow rolling swallows. The empty bottle is tossed to one of his men to dispose of. "To the Ebb and Flow." He tells his soldiers. The recently appointed Warlord of the Levithan stalks off then. The steel clad and inked up footprints in his wake are afford a brief over-the-shoulder look as he watches the flames in the distance. His men following in kind. Laughing. Donrai might have been a right asshat but Abbas for his part saw his wake as Thraxians were supposed to. Nevermind that Donrai had his father murdered. Abbas only laments it was not his axe that split his wig to send him to this pyre. #ThraxLife

"I'll tell him, absoltuely," Belladonna tells Valerius with another warm smile. "You are welcome, certainly." She looks back over towards Abbas when he looks her way, the heft of his bottle answered with a tilt of her head, respectful. There's a flash of her smile, and then she's turning to watch Valerius go. Ah. She looks back to the fire.

"A good night to you, Prince Abbas. Prince Valerius," the Mirrormask offers with nods for both of the Thraxians, as they move to leave. Belladonne is given another quiet nod - certainly the Mirrormask's conversation with Jasher is not so private as to exclude anyone else from joining.

"Good night!" Valerius calls out to Juliet, turning abruptly as he offers the positively excited response, a wave of his hand given then as he turns about once more. Not before his gaze lingers on Belladonna for a moment, but it doesn't last, and he's on his way.

6 Thrax Guards leaves, following Valerius.

Pariah, The StormCrow, 5 Redoubt Buccaneers arrive, following Maximilian.

That nod from Juliet has Belladonna smiling her way again, returning it; even with the invitation she doesn't approach. No, she spends a few more minutes staring at the pyre before her gaze goes up along the beach. It's not too very long before her own guards start to make their approach, this time coming into the area to meet her instead of staying back.

Jasher remains just at the entrance to the pavilion, drinking the very fine rum that was brought and looking out to sea though his gaze flicks over to each person as they choose to leave.

Juliet stands by Jasher for now, the mirrored shroud continuing to reflect the burning pyre, casting its light at the sands from a different angle. Again, she clasps her hands before her, and her head shifts this way and that, as she, too, sees the funeral members off.

2 Thrax Guards have been dismissed.

Ariel was watching the blaze with admiration as well as with self reflection. Her gaze then looks to Juliet as she says "It was quite a lovely ceremony indeed. You gave great honor to High Lord Donrai Thrax."

Ariel is overheard praising Juliet for: For a wonderfully leading the funeral of High Lord Donrai Thrax.

"Thank you, my lady. I don't think I've had the pleasure." Juliet offers, with an exaggerated nod to Ariel. "I am Lady Juliet Fidante. Mirrormask, among other things." She raises a shrouded hand, fabric stretching around her fingers, as she brings her palm to her chest. "I am sorry for your loss."

There's a good long moment spent in consideration before Belladonna draws herself out of whatever thoughts she'd settled into, shakes it off with a quick toss of her head. She straightens, says a few words to the approaching guards, and then turns to step in the direction of Jasher and the Mirrormask, a nod offered to them both (as well as Ariel) as she approaches.

Ariel offers a soft nod as she says "We have not. It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Fidante. I am Lady Ariel Darkwater. Thank you, he was indeed a great man." A nod is offered back to Bellabonna as she approaches.

The Damnation was out on patrol - you can't have your entire command staff at the same event. It's a bad idea, especially outside the walls of Arx. The black warship with the red sails pulls to the dock, and soon after, Maximilian is seen walking down the wharf, headed for the beach.

"It is good to meet you, Lady Darkwater. One can only wish it was under more cheerful circumstances." Juliet concludes. Giving another exaggerated nod to Belladonna as she approaches them. "Have you met the Duchess Belladonna Pravus?" She inquires, politely, gesturing to the woman. And, upon seeing Max leave the ship, raising a hand to offer a wave to him.

The approach of Belladonna draws Jasher's attaention away from the sea and he looks over, returning her nod of greeting. "Thank you for attending, Duchess. I'm sure we all appreciated your presence here at such a time."

"Hello," Belladonna offers up as she is introduced, a warm smile shared with Ariel before she looks to Juliet. "Thank you," she says, with a great deal of sincerity. "You did a beautiful job." She does offer a smile towards Jasher as well. "I don't know about that," she says. "But thank you for the sentiment. It was important to me to be here."

Ariel looks to Belladonna as she says, returning the warm smile, "I have not, it is a pleasure to meet you Duchess Pravus. Though I do wish it were under better circumstances."

The heavy bootfalls on wooden plank die as the crunch of sea gravel and sand takes over. A few moments of trudging later, and Maximilian is to the edge of the area used to cremate Donrai Thrax. Silently, he watches those who lingers - taking a momentfor his own respects.

Juliet offers another little exaggerated nod to Belladonna. "Thank you, my lady. I am happy I could serve, and pleased you were here to bid farewell to the late Prince." Gesturing to Ariel, now. "Duchess Pravus, may I introduce you to Lady Ariel Darkwater." Taking a step back, and looking over to Max again.

"It was important to us all that Donrai be given his due." Jasher answers, looking toward a couple of stragglers then nodding to Max.

Maximilian finishes his silent reflection - then approaches Belladonna, Ariel, Jasher and Juliet. "Worthies." he greets by singular term.

When she turns her head to look and she sees Max, Belladonna's smile returns. He's watched as he watches for a long moment before her attention swings back. A nod, for Ariel. "A pleasure," she says, before she looks to Jasher. "He had such an impact." Max's approach and greeting has her smile turned his way, and she shifts on her feet to partly face him, including him in the little grouping. "Count Max," she says.

"Count Darkwater," Juliet replies, clot shifting a little in the neck-region at the slight incline of her head. Taking a step closer to Ariel, to - as Belladonna did - open up their circle for the count. Giving a nod of agreement with both Belladonna and Jasher - once more exaggerating the movement to ensure it is seen.

"He certainly did." Jasher agrees, just a hint of dryness to his tone before he turns to refill his glass from the bottle. "Would anyone care for a drink?" There can't be a wake without alcohol after all and the fine rum is the high point to the funeral next to the pyre.

Atrid arrives looking around for a few moments before he approaches the gathered. His movements slow, He gives a nod to those he sees that he knows.

The Count's shadowsilk cloak billows and wafts on the wind, just enough to give it a sense of animation. "The impact of Prince Donrai Thrax on the Compact and Isles, is something that will be felt for generations to come."

There's a wistful look given to the bottle of rum, but Belladonna shakes her head all the same. "No, but thank you," she says. Max's words have her looking his way, nodding her agreement. When she sees Atrid approaching she smiles his way as well, friendly enough.

Juliet is hardly recognisable for those who haven't seen her in her Mirrormask getup before, but her voice may be. And she certainly gives Atrid a nod of greeting. "I'm afraid that my official garb makes it somewhat complicated for me to imbibe, your highness." There's a hint of mirth to her voice, even as she looks over to Max, raising her hand in another gesture of agreement, an open palm towards him. Canting her head just a little.

Atrid smiles back at Belladonna

Ariel looks to Jasher as she says "I will drink with you Prince Jasher Thrax." Her hand taking the offer rum and sipping from it before offering it back to Jasher, or whoever else wishes to drink with the Prince.

"On Darkwater Island, we have thin reeds we dry and wax." Says MAximilian. "They slide under helms and armor nicely. And then we drink."

Maximilian is a fucking INNOVATOR OF INEBRIATION.

Maximilian steps closer to Juliet, to murmur something to her.

Atrid smiles back to Belladonna and than to Juliet as he comes towards them He gives a bow of greeting but he still doesnt speak at the moment. He waits and remains silent for a bit just listening.

Jasher pours a glass and places it into Ariel's hand. There's enough to go around. In case others want some as well, he pours several more glasses full, sure it won't go to waste in any case.

"Hello," Belladonna offers in Atrid's direction, gesturing him over to the little group. Once that's done she's turning her head to look to the fire once again, staring that way. So much staring.

Maximilian murmurs something to Juliet, then slides past Ariel, on his way to Belladonna.

Ariel softly says something to Juliet before Atrid is offered a soft smile and a nod of her head. Her hand holding the glass that Jasher hands her, her other hand join it to cup it within both. A warm smile given to Max as he makes his way past her and towards Belladonna.

Juliet turns to face Max, giving a quick nod at his words. Then spreads her hands apologetically. "Do you have any of those reeds with you, my lord?" She inquires politely, Her shroud reflecting the fires and the people surrounding her. Then she looks back to Ariel, and gives a small nod to her in turn. And raising one of her hands to wiggle her fingers within the thin, stretched cloth, in greeting to Atrid. "If not, I think it may be time for me to take my leave - so as to not put a dampener on the festivities."

"I still can't believe he's dead. Even seeing the fire, I keep...wondering when he's going to walk up and laugh at all of us," Belladonna admits before she turns her head to smile at Max, reaching to touch his elbow, leaning in to attempt a kiss to his cheek. "I thought this would make it feel more real," she admits to the Count, voice a little quieter (but not inaudible for the others!). Juliet's words have her looking her way again. "It was good to see you. Thank you, again."

Atrid comes closer at Belladonnas invitation. "Hello." is Atrids reply before smiling back to Ariel he looks to Jasher and gives a polite nod of greeting before returning to his quiet thought.

Maximilian leans in to take the kiss to his cheek, lingering close for a moment to murmur something that IS inaudiable to the others.

Belladonna smiles for Max's quiet words, turning towards him a bit and lowering her voice to reply to him.

Jasher nods a greeting to Atrid, gesturing to the glasses of rum on the table if he'd like to take one.

Maximilian tips his head to Belladonna, in silent answer to the Duchess of Setarco. Turning from her, he offers his hands to Ariel. "Ariel Darkwater. You are a sight for a man returning from sea, enough to make him consider the shore as an occupation."

Belladonna folds her hands together in front of her as Max steps away, turning back towards the fire to go back to watching it.

Ariel blushes softly at Max's kind compliment and kindly responds to him "Thank you dear cousin for such a lovely compliment, you flatter me. I am quite to see your safe return." She takes the offered hands, moving closer to him with grace in her steps. As she looks to Juliet she says "I hope the rest of your evening is well and I look forward to use seeing one another once again."

Juliet sketches a curtsey. "Thank you, Duchess. Lady Darkwater." Giving a nod to each. "And thank you for the honour of having me. May the Thirteenth give you the courage to face your reflections, and the will to do what needs be done. Prince Jasher, Duchess Belladonna. Lady Ariel. Lord Atrid. Be well." And then she waggles her fingers, and moves to leave, Fidelia roused from her place in the pavillion to follow her.

Maximilian raises a brow as the mirror mask gives fairwells to everyone but Max. "I think I offended her."

Atrid looks around and gives a fairwell to Juliet as well. "Max How are you?" He asks but its Juliet saying Lady Darkwater that catches his attention. "Another cousin well more of our family keeps on showing up dont we?" he asks with a small chuckle accepting Jashers offer. "Many thanks." Atrid says to Jasher with a bow.

"At least this one is prettier than you, Monkeyface." SAys Max, casually chuffing Atrid's shoulder with a light punch. "If you will all excuse me, I'm going to step off with the Duchess for a moment and discuss my recent mission. Prince Jasher - it was a pleasure to serve with you. I look forward to it."

Ariel sips upon her rum as she says to Max "I do not think you offended her cousin." Then she looks to Atrid and says "Indeed yes, only recently arrived. But am growing to be fond of Arx thus far." She giggles at Max's words to Atrid then sips on her rum to silence her giggles. A kind comment of "Be well dear cousin and Duchess Pravus."

"Any time, Count." Jasher tells Max. "It was quite enjoyable, despite the unexpected outcome. I made my suggestions to the High Lord on what we should do with them and hopefully it'll turnout quite well." A nod to Belladonna. "Thank you again for coming."

"I was glad to see all of you," Belladonna speaks up, when Max says what he does. "Thank you again, for allowing me to be here, Prince Jasher. Thank you, Lady Darkwater. My lord." A nod for Atrid, to go with those final words. She does back a few steps up, turns to start up along the beach. Her guards don't follow immediately, but they do eventually follow.

Atrid laughs and sips his rum. "She is definitely prettier Ill give her that. Aye Max but shes prettier than you too. Be well Cousin." He says before turning to Ariel and Jasher. "I dont believe weve had the pleasure of meeting. Im Lord Atrid Darkwater." He says with a smile and a bow.

Maximilian turns away with a DRAMATIC flair of his cloak... "No one is prettier than I." An arm is offered Belladonna, to lead her off for the discussion.

Ariel giggles at the exchange between Atrid and Max about if Max is prettier than Ariel, she makes no comment if either side however. She then asks Atrid "How are you enjoy Arx thus far cousin?"

Belladonna chuckles for the dramatics and shakes her head, but she does take Max's arm, content to follow him.

2 Pravus Honor Guard, Aida leave, following Belladonna.

Pariah, The StormCrow, 5 Redoubt Buccaneers, Belladonna leave, following Maximilian.

"Prince Jasher Thrax." he replies, nodding to Atrid. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Atrid. If you'll both excuse me, I should give some instructions to the guards and servants now most everyone has gone." Finishing his drink, he sets the glass on the table then goes to speak to one of the servants.

Ariel offers kindly to Jasher "Of course Prince Jasher Thrax. Please do not let us keep you." Another sip is taken from her cup of rum.

2 Pravus Honor Guard, Aida arrive, following Belladonna.

Pariah, The StormCrow, 5 Redoubt Buccaneers, Belladonna arrive, following Maximilian.

Pariah, The StormCrow, 5 Redoubt Buccaneers leave, following Maximilian.

Jasher finishes his talk with the servants about striking the pavilion then goes over to the guard who's been tasked with the honor of taking care of Donrai's remains. "Even once the flames die down, the damn thing's going to smoulder for days." he tells the guard. "Wait till the sun sets then douse it all in seawater. Shovel it up into a few buckets then go dump them out at sea. Several leagues apart." Just to make doubly sure. Giving the pyre one last look, he motions to his guards and heads up the beach.