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Littered throughout Rammalin are graveyards, the resting places for those who have passed. Some are memorialized in stone, others in the form of flowers and trees. Those citizens of Dokho that chose monuments of stone remain buried under their markers in the vast graveyard behind the Gatekeepers Sanctuary at the center of the misty coasts. The trees and flower groves, once sprinkled with cremated ashes, are left to grow in peace, tended by reverent family members. Of course, there are other graveyards scattered throughout all of Rammalin, but none quite as dramatic or vast as the one here on the Misty Coast.

Stones are scattered all across the grounds, some finely polished, others rough and natural, all carven with names. Certain stones' areas are kept clean and tidy, others seem abandoned and depressed. Some say the spirits can still watch the living here, the mist hiding them from sight.



SIDE EVENT: Finding the exit

- Locate the exit of The Gravesite

exclaim You can only complete this event once. If you fail, you can continue trying until you complete/pass it! exclaim



*Credit: TiH for event framework*

You enter a clearing with many small, colorful stones meticulously place in the shape of a spiral mandala. You notice a few tiny folk watching the area, their gazes moving quietly up from the stones to peer at you. Perhaps this is the place where they bury their own dead? With a whisper of gossamer wings, the tiny folk flit off into the mist, leaving you alone once again in cool silence. Going forward would seem to lead into denser mists. To the right is a hazy collection of strange stone arches. To the left, an even deeper silence...

It was not in Abrax's nature to be overly curious about his past, or the past of Rammalin as a whole. The stallion was more preoccupied with his direct self, and the present. A practical creature by nature, it often came off as aloof or cold for his blind sense of drive and for his ability to make decisions based on what was logically more advantageous, regardless of the potential hurt feelings. It wasn't his job to make sure that everyone was happy. Abrax focused intently on making sure he was alive, healthy, and well-fed. Shortly past that, his compassion stopped.

But the growing hubbub at the center of the gala was eating away at Abrax's peace of mind. He needed to be alone. Without quite knowing where he was going, the stallion simply let his hooves carry him away. They were strong, sturdy, and sure. His hooves had never failed him before. He trusted them.

It was a strange and eerie place his hooves brought him too, all shrouded in that magick mist that hung so ominously. His hindquarters visibly crawled as the mist rose up and crawled over him. Driven by a combination of things- the desire to be away and unable to be found, the dislike of how the mist made his skin crawl, and a strange unknown motivation suddenly sprouted deep in his being- Abrax kept moving forward. His hooves strike noisily off a large rock strewn haphazardly in his path, and he has to instinctively readjust his footing.

"Sloppy," he grunts before lifting his head to note the red runes painted on a massive boulder to his direct left. It easily eclipses his own height, so the stallion has to tilt his head to get a good angle for inspection. The red paint that was used to mark runes onto the stone had not been given the proper amount of time to dry for there were drips and drags across the boulder's surface. Abrax stood for a moment, trying to puzzle out what the runes might indicate, but that strange and incessant motivation to keep moving had him mobile again before long...

It happened so suddenly that later, Abrax could not explain how- but one moment he was wondering what the tiny folk made of their little clearing, and the next moment his rump was brushing against the large stone with sloppy red runes.

"What the-," he almost cursed, snorting in displeasure while his ears lay flat against his skull. What kind of magic was in this place?

...and found within himself a stalwart resolve to keep moving. He could not yet give up his course of action not could he admit defeat so readily. Seeing the fleeing tiny folk for however brief it had been, had indeed sparked within him a personal curiosity that now needed to be sated.

Abrax moved forward.

Abrax threw back his head and whinnied triumphantly, breaking the lack of sound amongst the mist and long-departed with a raucous cry. The symmetrical pattern of colored rocks was once again beneath his hooves, though the tiny folk still remained elsewhere. When the last echoes of his exultant celebration fade, Abrax can feel the silence pressing upon him from the left. Instinctively, his body angles to the right- where there may be stone arches looming just beyond the mist...

The mare took a deep breath, hoping to find a way out of the graveyard. She moved steadily now, keeping her eyes focused forward as she sought for any sign of another within this ghoulish maze. However, she soon found herself at the entrance and her brows knitted. She had been searching for the exit...and had returned to the beginning? Frowning, she turned around, trying to retrace her steps. Something wasn't right.