LadyRunic

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

@SilverPaw @eclecticwitch @Zoey Boey @13org Post is up! Sorry for the delay the time change really wiped me out!

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

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Arc I - Terreille in Trouble

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Location: Winton

Bellinar gritted his teeth, his large wings spreading slightly as he rose partway out of his chair. This entire 'bargain' had been doomed from the start, but his debts in gambling had made two options very clear to the Warlord Prince. Sell his service to one of the Twisted Queens or sell out his dear friend and ensure her safety with the action. Faeril, though stubborn and prideful, was not a fool. She would see the wisdom in heeding to a Queen's word. Did she not already with Lady Fatima? That thought jolted through the Warlord Prince as an icy dagger. The Lady Fatima was leading them on a dangerous path that could end with their deaths and it appeared he was the only one who saw it. She spoke pretty words but was flighty and given to her whims just as much as some of the other Queens. A true Eyrien Queen would not be like that. Eyries were far better than to give to such petty things.

"That was what I was offering." No, he had been greedy but Bellinar would never admit that. "Faeril is weakened and the group is leery and nervous with the presence of more potential threats and allies. At the first hard task they will shatter and she, Faeril, will be left defenseless. It will be easy enough to guide her to safety and allow you to take her to a proper Queen." Grimacing, the Eyrien shrugged as he saw no reason to mention that Saetan SaDiablo was in the midst of the Queen's little 'Court'. It would not do for these mercenaries to frighten and skitter away like mice. His debtors would slip a Band of Compliance on him, and then where would he be?!

The minutes would pass and an hour would stretch. The trowel Faeril had been using lay in the garden, the ground about her scuffled and plants broken from a short and silent struggle. Knocking on the door to the womens' rooms, Gendar cleared his throat. "Faeril?" Pushing open the door, he frowned seeing only Fatima. "Lady. Have you seen the Black Widow?" It was not like him to be unable to locate Faeril. She only really had two places to go, her room and the common room. Denvar and he had been patrolling the downstairs discussing 'family matters' in quiet tones. Thom, the boy, had scampered off. Most likely for sleep. As for Saetan? The man had taken Gen up on his offer, though he had been tense about it. 'Probably worried he would get jumped and sold out, reasonable fear.' Gen noted.

A giant List of Ideas and Potential Stories [High-Casual to Advance] [18+]

Looking for the Victorian Vampire and potentially Sith with Mor'gann.

To Claim a Starting World

@Califricus Since everyone is in a Northern village? Just have a reason to be there. The RP is pretty free-form and the world depends on your actions.

A giant List of Ideas and Potential Stories [High-Casual to Advance] [18+]

Bump

To Claim a Starting World

The two would find the man heavier than he appeared for one living in the wilds. Arn would know it for the muscles one built from having to fight every day. The hunter and the villager healer had been very lucky to come across the wolf-man so wounded and already weakened. Had he meant to attack them, then there would have been a serious fight. As it was, whatever had caused him to flee must have been a terrifying force. Gwendolyn would understand the wounds Lutter had suffered. If this was what had attacked the lay about then it would explain much. Though his face, as Arn had pulled the mask away, was lean. Showing harsh survival and the near-starvation that had chiseled lines into his brow and the corners of his eyes. Dark black hair spilled over his back in a tangle and there was oddly no sign of a beard. Odd as the man looked to be of the age to have one. His nose looked like it had been broken before and his teeth were perfect, strong and white. But all that was covered with dirt, blood and sweat.

As the two of them weaved through the forest, the sun would have risen in the sky. The warmth of the day seeping through a canopy of green. Birds fluttering about and warning of the two blundering humans that marched through the forest. The village was in their sight as they neared the edge of the forest, the sun shining closer to the highest point than it had been this morning. The villagers were moving about the fields tending to the crop and meager herds that sustained them. The ringing call of Hod's hammer as the smith banged out some tool or the other. Most likely something large from the noise that was being caused.

"Gwendolyn, what-" There was a rustle near them as Oskar, Dallen and Yvenna's oldest son, stepped from the trees with a pair of hares in one hand and a bow in another. "The beast-!" The lad yelped, tumbling back and fetching up against a tree as he stared at the unconscious stranger. "Wh- How?!" Curiosity warred with wariness and fright in the young lad. Though Gwendolyn would also see his shuffling feet and tucked chin. A boy growing into a man, yes. But one who harbored some guilty knowledge.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Zatana had just finished the lovely loaf of sweetbread, her head tucked against her chest with her hood shadowing her face as she sought the doze of someone who was in a hostile city. The chair was tilted back a bit onto the rear legs, and her knee was carefully set just so. To anyone else, the posture would be uncomfortable, but then again most probably never had to sleep in a sitting position for an extended period. Having done a stint as a hall boy, the sort who waits at a door all night so that important guests need not wait, and a messenger at the behest of gathering information, Zatana was more than used to the pose. It beat sleeping on a horse. There was uncomfortable! She was interrupted by the movement of people entering the war room. Something sat wrong with them being able to enter this interior shell of the keep, or so Zatana thought. Opening her dark eyes, she had one of her long knives in her hand before she spoke, though that hand was on the far side of the strangers.

Who it was surprised the dark elf. She had not been expecting the strange cleric and two knights who looked to be nothing like those who served the city or Duke. Two knights lacking the stains of battle on top of that when this woman they held in their arms was so covered in goblin gore and sewer muck? On top of that, the civilized elf grimaced privately at the thought of the woman going to sleep in a bed so soiled. Cleanliness was an underappreciated factor in her profession. Smells where there ought to be no such smell was something that could foul up an operation just as much as eating the wrong food or bringing the wrong tools. Standing from the circle of lizard man that was Merik she bowed as stately as any courtier. The knife hidden against her wrist. "Good evening, Sirs. Lady... Forgive me, I did not catch your name when last we met. Never fear, you merely disturbed my rest while I remain able to move to where His Highness Prince Leonidas of the Empire of Man requires me to be." Zatana felt her smile become somewhat sharper. She was revealing too much of her courtly graces, but these knights. They should have had some grime if they had not just thrown their cleric to the wolves- literally. Soldiers were loud as they exchanged the news.

"Though I can see the Cleric is weary and since I have no need of it as of current, I offer you my own quarters should they suffice. Though..." She gave a pause to emphasize what she was saying was no request at all. "I do suspect that the Sacred Order's Cleric of the Dead would enjoy a bath before the bed, Ser Knights." A small luxury the woman looked like she dearly needed. Plus the ulterior motive of trying to figure the woman and her two knights out, then again with her being a dark elf it was a given.

To Claim a Starting World

@DracoWarlordYup! It's still open.

To Claim a Starting World

Old memories were unfaithful things that bound the strongest will. For all it had been years the man-wolf could hardly recall who he had been. It hardly seemed important when the hunt and the passing of days were so idyllic and there was only the now. The current time and needs and dangers that existed in the norther forest and through the high peaks of the mountains. The ears that Arn petted were flicking forward and backwards. Though despite their bristled appearance, Arn would feel the give of real ears at first but it would pass soon the feel of giving ears replaced by stiff ears. Wood covered with fur. The entire outfit though seeming alive slowly yielded its nature to Arn. It was not living fur, but the furs of dead wolves on the body of a man. One who possessed some powerful connection to the Green to meld so with the beasts who skins he wore.

Rasping, the man-wolf whined and rasped. "Nrrrr! Nrrrrrgghh!" His growls something torn between a 'no' and the growl of the wolf. His eyes showing white all around his iris as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. His body going limp as the creature fell unconscious due to the lack of blood. The wound was only growing worse and whatever power possessed him drained him further. The furs in Arn's arms seemed to shift as if they had given up their anchoring to the man's skin. Gwydolyn would see the shift of the man's face, as though he was wearing a partial mask that had dislodged slightly and if they tried to peal it back they would see it for a giant wooden replica of a wolf's skull. Covered with fur and fitted too the man's head. Blood and sweat caking to otherwise relatively clean fur. Or as clean as a wolf could be.

To Claim a Starting World

I'll have a reply up tomorrow!