The memorial service was held on the flat hilltop overlooking the ocean, and at its edge rested an old-fashioned wooden boat, worn and weathered. There were chairs for those still too weak to stand and four torches, burning steadily, set in the ground at the four cardinal points. The day was bright and clear, a light breeze blowing out to sea, but despite that, the torches never flickered.
Karal, dressed in formal robes of black and gold, stood in front of the boat, waiting patiently while people arrived.
( When everyone had settled, he stepped forward and began to speak. )[ooc: Word of the service was handwavily passed by word of mouth, and by way of announcement and on the radio. Please wait for OCD is up!]