LadyRunic

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Lothston

House Lothston

Shield in the Darkness

House Description:

Given to Lucas Lothson after his marriage to the disgraced Falena Stokeworth, who was found sleeping in the bed of the Prince Heir Aegon Targayen in the year 151 AC. Lothstons have made of themselves a reputation for dabbling in dark arts and black deeds. It was whispered that the daughter born by Falena was Aegon's and later used as a bribe to get Lord Lucas a position as Hand of the King by bedding then King Aegon IV. Manfryd Lothston more recently was said to have supported Daemon Blackfyre and betrayed him during the first Blackfyre rebellion. Their house is dark and full of terrors. Whispers of dark natures.

Their seat is Harrenhal. A castle was left to ruin by Balarion the Black Dread during Aegon's conquest. The lords of Harrenhal have had one ill turn after another. Accidents and madness stalk the house lines until they fail, rumoring the holding cursed. Though despite that the land is green, fertile, and vast. Harrentown is near the castle.

Recent History:

Timeline

{202 AC} -Current Time
{199 AC} -Death of Lucas and his mother due to illness
{195 AC} -Disappearance of Alysanne
{193 AC} -Birth of Lucas Lothston
[191 AC} -Manfyrd married a lowborn commoner from Harrentown
{190 AC} -Death of Benjicot, fell down the stairs and broke his neck
{186 AC} -Death of Calera in childbirth, the birth of Elayne Lothston
{184 AC} -Birth of Danelle Lothston, Death of King Aegon IV
{182 AC} -Birth of Alysanne and Benjicot Lothston
{181 AC} -Married to Calera Blackwood, a niece of the Late Lord Benjicot Blackwood
{165 AC} -Birth of Manfryd Lothston

Family Members:

Danelle Lothston
Elayne Lothston
Alysanne Lothston
Lord Manfryd Lothston, Lord of Harrenhal
Benjicot Lothston
Lucas Lothston
Jeyne Lothston

Manfryd Lothston

Manfryd Lothston

Age: 37, born in 165 AC

Appearance: A slightly tall man, people often think him older than he is. With thinning grey hair peppered with dark red, a burly mustache, and neat beard to hide his slightly sunken cheeks. Whispers would have it that it was the loss of two sons and wives that put the strain upon the lord, while others whisper that he dabbles in the dark arts practiced by the Lothstons aged him past his years. Still, and even more quietly, others suggest that perhaps the doing is that of Danelle Lothston who was always a queer child. Yet for his age, Manfryd is a fit man. Still often practicing with sword and bow and seen riding about the lands of Harrenhal. Never one for ostentatious clothed, he wears simple stout clothing but finely made and often decorated by embroidery, by the skilled hand of Elayne.

Description & biography: Manfryd was the heir from the minute he was born. His Father had been granted Harrenhal by Prince Viserys, though privately Manfryd always saw it as more of a bribe to clean up after Prince Aegon. Something that led his father to no end of trouble as Jeyne was sister to him and potentially a bastard of Aegon's! A shame to the House even more with the whispers that came to court and how his sister and mother displayed themselves. Manfryd had grown up with the whispers and taking them for true, fueled a sense of righteous anger that eagerly mixed with greed. His father had been a schemer and once Hand of the King, a lord of note, though in his years after being banished from Court Lucas turned to care for his land. Along with nursing grievance against the king, not that he said as much. It seemed fitting and with Aegon having dismissed them from the court, the lord felt he could do more for his land and people than worry about the politics. Manfryd however drank and talked about dark things that did not wish the king well. With a reckless son who was liable to stir trouble, he thought the best option was to marry the boy off to an advantageous house. His second son had died from a fall from a spirited horse and his wife, Falena Stokeworth, had died with a third child. Securing some grandchildren would do good for the House and his son would have someone to talk sense into him!

Those hopes would not fall on deaf ears. Calera was a delight to Manfryd, and he was besotted. That two children came quickly, if perhaps too quickly was no trouble. Manfryd took to keeping his whispers to nothing more than talk and arguing with other RiverLords about the Tridents as anything else upset Calera. His father had passed shortly after the marriage and the twins' birth from a long fight with the pox. Though he showed some interest in the children, it was more in training Benjicot to take over in his stead. Manfryd was afraid of his own death and his son being unprepared to take the reins after, so if he had to allow Alysanne to learn the bow? Then there was no matter, so long as Benjicot kept up his studies. He did not even think to take another wife after Calera's death. An event which turned Manfryd colder and his whispered dislike of the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms just a little bit louder. When Benjicot fell down the stairs and was found dead? The man turned positively glacier. He took to teaching Alysanne to be heir and began looking for another wife which proved something of a trial. Nothing pleased him as no one was Calera. Finally, he decided to take a woman from Harrentown for his wife, seeing something was better than nothing and wanting a proper heir quickly. Leaving the woman to her antics and the children to their Septa. The only child who stood out at all to Manfryd was Elayne.

Another son was born, then both mother and child died from a disease. A daughter having vanished in the night and unable to locate her. Manfryd's years weighed on him. Perhaps his castle was cursed. Yet he still had an heir in Danelle, and still kept an eye out for a potential marriage to a decent woman for himself so he might secure another son. Cold and furious he was certain that this was some cruel jab by the late Kings Viserys and Aegon IV, not a reward for service but a curse and scorned from court because of the wiles of women. He ponders how to gain another castle and nurses his woes and scorn.

Alysanne Lothston

Alysanne Lothston/ Alys Rivers

Age:

20 - Born Early in 182 AC

Appearance:

As a young child of nobility, Alysanne was noted for her lovely red locks and finely boned features that promised to grow into an attractive woman, but the future took her another way and into the rough wool or rare silks of those not of noble birth, even into leather armor with bow or dagger in hand. Pale blue eyes, weathered skin, and a well-muscled if short frame. It would take a long second for anyone to connect Alys Rivers to Alysanne Lothston, though some of that noble vanity remained in her long red braid and delight for the finer things any commoner would desire but not know the real value of. A charming smile with dimples belying an easy nature and her fingers long and slender revealing their quickness, the latter bears scars from fights with knives even as her body bears a few from close calls and scrapes.

Description & biography:

Born early in the marriage of Manfyrd and Calera, Alys and her twin brother Benjicot, named for Calera's uncle and the lord of the Riverlands, were side-eyed by the servants. Their birth had come quite soon after the marriage bed and while it was not unheard of, Benji had been a large boy and she quite small, as it was with twins from time to time, and servants whispered that the birth had not been early. Such was life at Harrenhal, the walls held up by the constant wind of whisper and rumor the stout beams of fact and reason having burned along with Harren and all his sons during the Conquest. Still, Manfryd did accept the parentage as truth and life went on. It was two years later that Danelle was born, a pretty daughter who was doted on by her sister, brother, and mother. Then another two years and another sister, Elayne this time, but their mother was weakened by pox did not have the strength to do more and perished.

Manfryd was left without a wife and four children without a mother. The twins for their part were heartbroken, Calera had been a motherly woman for all she was a Lady. The twins grew and were often found together in lessons or in play. When Benji started learning the arts of war, Alysanne was not far away at needlepoint. Her keen ear perked for his instruction as much as her own. It was when he took up the bow she could bear it no longer, not allowed on their adventures and having just turned seven, she and Benji begged their father to let her learn as well. Manfryd would gave argued and refused had he not been wise enough to see that one would teach the other and with possible horrible consequences.

Yet there was a shadow over Harrenhal. The ruined towers, the bats, the whispers of ghosts, and rumors of black deeds. However, the shadow of a six-year-old child would hardly be terrifying. Alys and Benji were in disagreement. Danelle was often on her own when not shadowing the two about and there always seemed something dark in her premonitions or sayings. "If you climb any higher up that tree, a bunch will break." And one did. "The kettle Cook uses, could boil the cat." And the keeps cat had been found boiled in the kettle. A prank pulled, burs under a horse's saddle, the wine goes missing... it was Danelle's fault in the twinss' eyes and their fault in the eyes of everyone else. Alys would admit they played a few pranks but nothing serious, and perhaps she took the wine to indulge in with Benji once.

Then death came again to Harrenhal, Benji had run to his instruction on archery with Alysanne already there. She was always there first, eager to escape the bower with Septa Bessa, Elayne, and Danelle. Perhaps it had been a sheer accident, perhaps a prank gone wrong but Benji had fallen down the tower stairs where their room was. Fallen and never rose, his neck broken. It broke something in Alys. Her twin, her beloved brother was dead. Worse? "If you run down the stairs, you will break your neck." Danelle had said, and later Alys learned that around the same time Danelle had not been with Septa Bessa. Benjicot Lothson was dead and despite that, Alysanne kept up her archery. Each shot aimed at the Stranger who had come to take her brother, not that she would tell the Septa that! She was going to be Lady Lothston rather than her brother, and she aimed to do right for him. Their talks and dreams of glory. Hers had been to marry a Targaryen Prince. His was to be like their Great Grandfather, Hand of the King. It would have been wonderful! And it still could be!

Manfryd was not of that mind and after a year of finding no woman of noble birth with a father or brother who would agree to marriage and needing a son and heir? There was trouble enough, a daughter heir would not do to his mind. The Lord of Harrenhal took a commoner for his wife. A pretty-faced woman with little else besides her looks and ability to give him an heir. It was something that put both Danelle and Alysanne into an agreement, the woman was 'Not Acceptable'. She was too flighty, she had none of the manners of a Highborn lady, and worse? She could dispose of Alysanne's place as heir.

There had been no thought in her head of anything but that of a petulant youth. A child's scorn for an unwanted adult who took that parental role is not deserved. Her brother was not dead but a year and already her father sought to replace him and her! But it was perhaps worse when she was approached by Danelle. The two sisters had been cordial, not liking each other but sisters. Benjicot's death had changed things, Alysanne had turned cold towards Danelle and suspicious. Danelle, was the odd child, the one that always knew when an accident would happen. This time they had a common enemy though. Danelle was but eight and Alys but ten, still they had 'wicked minds' as the Septa put it that year. Frogs and serpents in the bed of Lady Lothston. Bats in her bower! A burr under the horse's saddle. Each time caught they were punished and lectured to accept the woman as Elayne did, yet it was to no effect. Alysanne dimly remembered her mother and would have no replacement, while Danelle could not be made to like the woman.

It was a year after the harlots, as the sisters agreed upon calling her, gave birth to a stout son that Alysanne began taking ill. Sleeping long hours, unlike her busy self. She also began to feel unwell. It was a chance at eavesdropping between Elayne, now eight, and Danelle, then ten, when her youngest sister remarked how she wished to be the heir like Alysanne and how she hoped Alysanne would be heir again. A child's wish. Alysanne was fun and was not so annoying as Lucas who was doted on by his mother and could do no wrong. The ringing slap has caused Alysanne to pause outside the door as Danelle viciously refused that their eldest sister would be heir again and Lucas not for long as Harrenhal was cursed. If Elayne did not wish to lose her favorite kitten she would remember that.

It was nothing, a squabble and easily dismissed but Alysanne did corner Danelle demanding answers. "You will end up like Benjicot when you get answers." Had been that cold-eyed answer. Alysanne had been slightly suspicious of the accidents that seemed to surround Danelle, but she had no proof. Her father would dismiss the matter, so she chose the next option which was to leave Danelle's grasp. For all her sister was younger by two years, she was taller than Alysanne and had been learning how to fight in the last year, Lord Manfryd was distracted by courtly matters. He had a wife to oversee the children, but alas that wife was all too interested in her son. Alysanne ran. Disguising herself as a young courier when her father demanded a letter be taken to the Lord of Maidenpool with whom he was having words. That she paid off the courier boy with a dragon she had stolen from her father, and took the letter, not to Maidenpool but rode to the Blackwater and followed it to the towns and ports along the Bay.

Disguising herself as a bow, she learned how to use a knife and poach with a bow. Her fingers were always quick learning how to pick a pocket or swipe an unattended bit of glimmer. Her old skill of climbing trees was as useful in scaling walls and she quickly learned even more than listening to what people said was just as easily sold onwards for mugs of ale as the coin. Years passed and she grew in skill and confidence, though her height was always limited. She looked over her shoulder for old enemies she had made be they an enraged father, cunning sister, or some guard or fool who thought to press her about something overheard or slipped into her purse. It was an adventure and while she would not be a lady, nor marry a Targaryen Prince, Alys Rivers as she called herself was enjoying life. Always eager for a new challenge or thrill. Yet she still could remember the curse of Harrenhal, how she wanted what was rightfully her home, and privately wondered if Danelle would darken her life again. Privately considering in those quiet nights what could have been if she had dared to stand up to Danelle and if it would have led to her death. A kin slaying? Then banishing the thoughts with a sternness that she had fled and ifs bought no bread.

Danelle Lothston

Danelle Lothston

Age:

18 - Born in 184 AC

Appearance:

Wearing dark-fitting armor when needed, the woman is tall and well muscled for her training in the arts of war. With pale skin and pale green eyes, her looks were stern and handsome, though unappealing if one listened to rumors. Danelle's eyes are often cold and baleful, bleak. The red hair, common enough among Riverland lords, is enough like to be the twin to Alysanne's. She dresses usually in plain gowns, sensible garb rather than the glimmer that could be found on most courtly ladies.

Description & biography:

Rumor and whisper would have one belief the woman spawned between the late lord Manfryd Lothston and the bats of Harrenhal, in truth though her mother was Calera and Danelle had been born as her sisters had been. The middling child between a pair of twins and a younger sister. Danelle would not call her childhood a fond thing. Benjicot often stole her dolls and mocked her, leading Alysanne to cruel pranks. That her eldest brother fell on the stairs when he was forever trying to race everywhere and broke his fool neck? It only meant peace from Benjicot's cruel jabs that had hardened her hide, and she certainly had not shed a tear over it! Alysanne had never taken that well, but her sisters were flighty and given to stupid games. Just as Septa Bessa was given to working the needle and pointless lessons, whereas Maester Lainn was more given to teaching useful things. Thus, Danelle learned of herbs and their various applications.

It was when their father remarried the harlot commoner, that the elder Lothston sisters joined sisters. Their new Lady Lothston was given to fashions that were anything but decent, barked pointless orders, and ran a once fairly decent House into the ground with what she thought a Lady ought to be. It was around the same time that Elayne began to follow Danelle with large and innocent eyes. It aggravated the girl and she often threatened her younger sister as this new habit brought Septa Bessa down upon them both and worse. Elayne was certain that Alysanne, the daydreaming fool! being heir would be a perfect answer to everything! Alysanne later confronted her and Danelle remarked that if she kept going the way she was going that she would end up the same as her brother. Perhaps harsh, but she recalled that Alysanne had joined in on Benjicot's teasing. It was amusing to her how she could usually shoulder her older sister about and put things just out of reach. When Alysanne disappeared, Danelle found herself the eldest sister and had enough scorn within her to scorch Harrenhal all over again. With Elayne irritating her and Lucas, a young lad who could do no wrong making any room for he was in misery, Danelle was certain that perhaps turning to the dark whispers about the Lothstons would be no bad thing if she could have peace!

She was twelve when the harlot and her little brat, Lucas, took ill. The Master had taken her as a helper and trusted her to deliver medicines. With half the castle coughing with the pox, Danelle had been given her beloved Lady Lothston's medicine. That she added a few pinches of sweetsleep hardly seem relevant against the strapping she had received for not curtsying to the woman and calling her several names she had heard in the town. It was not long after that Danelle was soon heir to Harrenhal, though whispered floated about as they always did about the Lothstons and Harrenhal. She ignored them and put her entire focus on learning how to be a lady who could lead House Lothston.

In more recent years, a woman of martial ability and not interested in lace so much as being the heir. Danelle has been eyeing her father's choices for her husband and finding them all lacking. She has no wish for a husband, but his search for a wife and a son to make heir of Harrenhal is not something she can allow to pass by.

Elayne Lothston

Elayne Lothston

Age:

16, born in 186 AC

Appearance:

If any of the Lothston sisters could be called beautiful in the purest sense, it would be Elayne. Willowy with reddish-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a heart-shaped face she has had a few suitors from minor houses. The unfortunate men were turned away by Manfryd. Given to wearing silks and delighting in everything a lady should, Elayne is not a warrior maid like her sister or even an adventurer like the missing Alysanne. She enjoys her comforts. Jewels sparkle about her and her gowns all sport her own embroidery. Often she finds herself scolded by her father and sister for sighing for a bard or passing knight. Her's is the simple delight of what is expected in life. A husband to provide for her wants and to keep her from the woes of life.

Description & biography:

With a mother who died during her birth, siblings at rivalry with each other, a father more interested in being a lord than even his youngest daughter, and a second mother who was as wont to sneer at her as dote upon her, Elayne's life was turbulent and troubled. Any attempt to get close to Danelle was met with harsh words and threats, Alysanne had some time to play but most of it was taken up with studies, and as he became older Lucas grew to be a terror that even she could not stand. After Alysanne's disappearance, Elayne kept to Septa Bessa. Learning how to dance, needlepoint, and all other things a lady might need.

In comparison, it could be said that Elayne was the meekest of the sisters, given to seeing beauty in all things and trying to be forever the optimist. Flights of fancy and bouts of daydreaming nonsense as Danelle would call it. Her father and sister were constantly keeping a sharp eye on her and kept the girl within Harrenhal. Perhaps she forgot where she left her gloves, or perhaps she did not notice it was raining but they were such minor things when there was a beautiful flower she had seen or something to delight over. A dress to be made, a new treat to try. The kindest thing to say of the woman is that perhaps her life is a bit to full of dreams that she forgets the mud of the lake that lies just outside of the walls and the bloodied battle that had reigned on it's shores during Maegor the Cruel's time.

Household

Jeyne Lothston

Jeyne Lothston

Age:

38, born in 164 AC

Appearance:

A pretty woman in her youth with fine red, gold hair and pale skin. Now in her later years she has collected a fair bit of lines about her eyes and mouth. Worry rides upon her brow and for all her years, she had born no children. Though her beauty is still seen in those graceful features. Despite her banishment from court she kept her finery even when married to a minor lord who already had a house full of children.

Description & biography:

Once she was a mistress to King Aegon 'The Unworthy'until she caught the pox. The whispers that float about that illicit affair drove her father to find her a husband soon after their return from court and Jeyne was passed into obscurity. To mind a houseful of children and a minor lord who was little more than a steward. Two years ago, she returned to Harrenhal after her husband died and the children turned her out, leaving Jeyne to face the scorn of her younger brother and his charity. While neither get along and both greatly dislike the other, Manfryd would not have Jeyne languish about the land as a ill testament to the stain on House Lothston. So he keeps her close and as little more than a lady's maid for his two daughters. Elayne tries to speak of the Seven to Jeyne and assure her all will be forgiven while Danelle ignores the woman in public. Privately putting their heads together to speak of things best left to women and darkness.

A Song of Ice and Fire - the Blackfyre Rebellion

House Lothston

House Lothston

Shield in the Darkness

House Description:

Given to Lucas Lothson after his marriage to the disgraced Falena Stokeworth, who was found sleeping in the bed of the Prince Heir Aegon Targayen in the year 151 AC. Lothstons have made of themselves a reputation for dabbling in dark arts and black deeds. It was whispered that the daughter born by Falena was Aegon's and later used as a bribe to get Lord Lucas a position as Hand of the King by bedding then King Aegon IV. Manfryd Lothston more recently was said to have supported Daemon Blackfyre and betrayed him during the first Blackfyre rebellion. Their house is dark and full of terrors. Whispers of dark natures.

Their seat is Harrenhal. A castle was left to ruin by Balarion the Black Dread during Aegon's conquest. The lords of Harrenhal have had one ill turn after another. Accidents and madness stalk the house lines until they fail, rumoring the holding cursed. Though despite that the land is green, fertile, and vast. Harrentown is near the castle.

Recent History:

Timeline

{202 AC} -Current Time
{199 AC} -Death of Lucas and his mother due to illness
{195 AC} -Disappearance of Alysanne
{193 AC} -Birth of Lucas Lothston
[191 AC} -Manfyrd married a lowborn commoner from Harrentown
{190 AC} -Death of Benjicot, fell down the stairs and broke his neck
{186 AC} -Death of Calera in childbirth, the birth of Elayne Lothston
{184 AC} -Birth of Danelle Lothston, Death of King Aegon IV
{182 AC} -Birth of Alysanne and Benjicot Lothston
{181 AC} -Married to Calera Blackwood, a niece of the Late Lord Benjicot Blackwood
{165 AC} -Birth of Manfryd Lothston

Family Members:

Danelle Lothston
Elayne Lothston
Alysanne Lothston
Lord Manfryd Lothston, Lord of Harrenhal
Benjicot Lothston
Lucas Lothston
Jeyne Lothston

Manfryd Lothston

Manfryd Lothston

Age: 37, born in 165 AC

Appearance: A slightly tall man, people often think him older than he is. With thinning grey hair peppered with dark red, a burly mustache, and neat beard to hide his slightly sunken cheeks. Whispers would have it that it was the loss of two sons and wives that put the strain upon the lord, while others whisper that he dabbles in the dark arts practiced by the Lothstons aged him past his years. Still, and even more quietly, others suggest that perhaps the doing is that of Danelle Lothston who was always a queer child. Yet for his age, Manfryd is a fit man. Still often practicing with sword and bow and seen riding about the lands of Harrenhal. Never one for ostentatious clothed, he wears simple stout clothing but finely made and often decorated by embroidery, by the skilled hand of Elayne.

Description & biography: Manfryd was the heir from the minute he was born. His Father had been granted Harrenhal by Prince Viserys, though privately Manfryd always saw it as more of a bribe to clean up after Prince Aegon. Something that led his father to no end of trouble as Jeyne was sister to him and potentially a bastard of Aegon's! A shame to the House even more with the whispers that came to court and how his sister and mother displayed themselves. Manfryd had grown up with the whispers and taking them for true, fueled a sense of righteous anger that eagerly mixed with greed. His father had been a schemer and once Hand of the King, a lord of note, though in his years after being banished from Court Lucas turned to care for his land. Along with nursing grievance against the king, not that he said as much. It seemed fitting and with Aegon having dismissed them from the court, the lord felt he could do more for his land and people than worry about the politics. Manfryd however drank and talked about dark things that did not wish the king well. With a reckless son who was liable to stir trouble, he thought the best option was to marry the boy off to an advantageous house. His second son had died from a fall from a spirited horse and his wife, Falena Stokeworth, had died with a third child. Securing some grandchildren would do good for the House and his son would have someone to talk sense into him!

Those hopes would not fall on deaf ears. Calera was a delight to Manfryd, and he was besotted. That two children came quickly, if perhaps too quickly was no trouble. Manfryd took to keeping his whispers to nothing more than talk and arguing with other RiverLords about the Tridents as anything else upset Calera. His father had passed shortly after the marriage and the twins' birth from a long fight with the pox. Though he showed some interest in the children, it was more in training Benjicot to take over in his stead. Manfryd was afraid of his own death and his son being unprepared to take the reins after, so if he had to allow Alysanne to learn the bow? Then there was no matter, so long as Benjicot kept up his studies. He did not even think to take another wife after Calera's death. An event which turned Manfryd colder and his whispered dislike of the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms just a little bit louder. When Benjicot fell down the stairs and was found dead? The man turned positively glacier. He took to teaching Alysanne to be heir and began looking for another wife which proved something of a trial. Nothing pleased him as no one was Calera. Finally, he decided to take a woman from Harrentown for his wife, seeing something was better than nothing and wanting a proper heir quickly. Leaving the woman to her antics and the children to their Septa. The only child who stood out at all to Manfryd was Elayne.

Another son was born, then both mother and child died from a disease. A daughter having vanished in the night and unable to locate her. Manfryd's years weighed on him. Perhaps his castle was cursed. Yet he still had an heir in Danelle, and still kept an eye out for a potential marriage to a decent woman for himself so he might secure another son. Cold and furious he was certain that this was some cruel jab by the late Kings Viserys and Aegon IV, not a reward for service but a curse and scorned from court because of the wiles of women. He ponders how to gain another castle and nurses his woes and scorn.

Alysanne Lothston

Alysanne Lothston/ Alys Rivers

Age:

20 - Born Early in 182 AC

Appearance:

As a young child of nobility, Alysanne was noted for her lovely red locks and finely boned features that promised to grow into an attractive woman, but the future took her another way and into the rough wool or rare silks of those not of noble birth, even into leather armor with bow or dagger in hand. Pale blue eyes, weathered skin, and a well-muscled if short frame. It would take a long second for anyone to connect Alys Rivers to Alysanne Lothston, though some of that noble vanity remained in her long red braid and delight for the finer things any commoner would desire but not know the real value of. A charming smile with dimples belying an easy nature and her fingers long and slender revealing their quickness, the latter bears scars from fights with knives even as her body bears a few from close calls and scrapes.

Description & biography:

Born early in the marriage of Manfyrd and Calera, Alys and her twin brother Benjicot, named for Calera's uncle and the lord of the Riverlands, were side-eyed by the servants. Their birth had come quite soon after the marriage bed and while it was not unheard of, Benji had been a large boy and she quite small, as it was with twins from time to time, and servants whispered that the birth had not been early. Such was life at Harrenhal, the walls held up by the constant wind of whisper and rumor the stout beams of fact and reason having burned along with Harren and all his sons during the Conquest. Still, Manfryd did accept the parentage as truth and life went on. It was two years later that Danelle was born, a pretty daughter who was doted on by her sister, brother, and mother. Then another two years and another sister, Elayne this time, but their mother was weakened by pox did not have the strength to do more and perished.

Manfryd was left without a wife and four children without a mother. The twins for their part were heartbroken, Calera had been a motherly woman for all she was a Lady. The twins grew and were often found together in lessons or in play. When Benji started learning the arts of war, Alysanne was not far away at needlepoint. Her keen ear perked for his instruction as much as her own. It was when he took up the bow she could bear it no longer, not allowed on their adventures and having just turned seven, she and Benji begged their father to let her learn as well. Manfryd would gave argued and refused had he not been wise enough to see that one would teach the other and with possible horrible consequences.

Yet there was a shadow over Harrenhal. The ruined towers, the bats, the whispers of ghosts, and rumors of black deeds. However, the shadow of a six-year-old child would hardly be terrifying. Alys and Benji were in disagreement. Danelle was often on her own when not shadowing the two about and there always seemed something dark in her premonitions or sayings. "If you climb any higher up that tree, a bunch will break." And one did. "The kettle Cook uses, could boil the cat." And the keeps cat had been found boiled in the kettle. A prank pulled, burs under a horse's saddle, the wine goes missing... it was Danelle's fault in the twinss' eyes and their fault in the eyes of everyone else. Alys would admit they played a few pranks but nothing serious, and perhaps she took the wine to indulge in with Benji once.

Then death came again to Harrenhal, Benji had run to his instruction on archery with Alysanne already there. She was always there first, eager to escape the bower with Septa Bessa, Elayne, and Danelle. Perhaps it had been a sheer accident, perhaps a prank gone wrong but Benji had fallen down the tower stairs where their room was. Fallen and never rose, his neck broken. It broke something in Alys. Her twin, her beloved brother was dead. Worse? "If you run down the stairs, you will break your neck." Danelle had said, and later Alys learned that around the same time Danelle had not been with Septa Bessa. Benjicot Lothson was dead and despite that, Alysanne kept up her archery. Each shot aimed at the Stranger who had come to take her brother, not that she would tell the Septa that! She was going to be Lady Lothston rather than her brother, and she aimed to do right for him. Their talks and dreams of glory. Hers had been to marry a Targaryen Prince. His was to be like their Great Grandfather, Hand of the King. It would have been wonderful! And it still could be!

Manfryd was not of that mind and after a year of finding no woman of noble birth with a father or brother who would agree to marriage and needing a son and heir? There was trouble enough, a daughter heir would not do to his mind. The Lord of Harrenhal took a commoner for his wife. A pretty-faced woman with little else besides her looks and ability to give him an heir. It was something that put both Danelle and Alysanne into an agreement, the woman was 'Not Acceptable'. She was too flighty, she had none of the manners of a Highborn lady, and worse? She could dispose of Alysanne's place as heir.

There had been no thought in her head of anything but that of a petulant youth. A child's scorn for an unwanted adult who took that parental role is not deserved. Her brother was not dead but a year and already her father sought to replace him and her! But it was perhaps worse when she was approached by Danelle. The two sisters had been cordial, not liking each other but sisters. Benjicot's death had changed things, Alysanne had turned cold towards Danelle and suspicious. Danelle, was the odd child, the one that always knew when an accident would happen. This time they had a common enemy though. Danelle was but eight and Alys but ten, still they had 'wicked minds' as the Septa put it that year. Frogs and serpents in the bed of Lady Lothston. Bats in her bower! A burr under the horse's saddle. Each time caught they were punished and lectured to accept the woman as Elayne did, yet it was to no effect. Alysanne dimly remembered her mother and would have no replacement, while Danelle could not be made to like the woman.

It was a year after the harlots, as the sisters agreed upon calling her, gave birth to a stout son that Alysanne began taking ill. Sleeping long hours, unlike her busy self. She also began to feel unwell. It was a chance at eavesdropping between Elayne, now eight, and Danelle, then ten, when her youngest sister remarked how she wished to be the heir like Alysanne and how she hoped Alysanne would be heir again. A child's wish. Alysanne was fun and was not so annoying as Lucas who was doted on by his mother and could do no wrong. The ringing slap has caused Alysanne to pause outside the door as Danelle viciously refused that their eldest sister would be heir again and Lucas not for long as Harrenhal was cursed. If Elayne did not wish to lose her favorite kitten she would remember that.

It was nothing, a squabble and easily dismissed but Alysanne did corner Danelle demanding answers. "You will end up like Benjicot when you get answers." Had been that cold-eyed answer. Alysanne had been slightly suspicious of the accidents that seemed to surround Danelle, but she had no proof. Her father would dismiss the matter, so she chose the next option which was to leave Danelle's grasp. For all her sister was younger by two years, she was taller than Alysanne and had been learning how to fight in the last year, Lord Manfryd was distracted by courtly matters. He had a wife to oversee the children, but alas that wife was all too interested in her son. Alysanne ran. Disguising herself as a young courier when her father demanded a letter be taken to the Lord of Maidenpool with whom he was having words. That she paid off the courier boy with a dragon she had stolen from her father, and took the letter, not to Maidenpool but rode to the Blackwater and followed it to the towns and ports along the Bay.

Disguising herself as a bow, she learned how to use a knife and poach with a bow. Her fingers were always quick learning how to pick a pocket or swipe an unattended bit of glimmer. Her old skill of climbing trees was as useful in scaling walls and she quickly learned even more than listening to what people said was just as easily sold onwards for mugs of ale as the coin. Years passed and she grew in skill and confidence, though her height was always limited. She looked over her shoulder for old enemies she had made be they an enraged father, cunning sister, or some guard or fool who thought to press her about something overheard or slipped into her purse. It was an adventure and while she would not be a lady, nor marry a Targaryen Prince, Alys Rivers as she called herself was enjoying life. Always eager for a new challenge or thrill. Yet she still could remember the curse of Harrenhal, how she wanted what was rightfully her home, and privately wondered if Danelle would darken her life again. Privately considering in those quiet nights what could have been if she had dared to stand up to Danelle and if it would have led to her death. A kin slaying? Then banishing the thoughts with a sternness that she had fled and ifs bought no bread.

Danelle Lothston

Danelle Lothston

Age:

18 - Born in 184 AC

Appearance:

Wearing dark-fitting armor when needed, the woman is tall and well muscled for her training in the arts of war. With pale skin and pale green eyes, her looks were stern and handsome, though unappealing if one listened to rumors. Danelle's eyes are often cold and baleful, bleak. The red hair, common enough among Riverland lords, is enough like to be the twin to Alysanne's. She dresses usually in plain gowns, sensible garb rather than the glimmer that could be found on most courtly ladies.

Description & biography:

Rumor and whisper would have one belief the woman spawned between the late lord Manfryd Lothston and the bats of Harrenhal, in truth though her mother was Calera and Danelle had been born as her sisters had been. The middling child between a pair of twins and a younger sister. Danelle would not call her childhood a fond thing. Benjicot often stole her dolls and mocked her, leading Alysanne to cruel pranks. That her eldest brother fell on the stairs when he was forever trying to race everywhere and broke his fool neck? It only meant peace from Benjicot's cruel jabs that had hardened her hide, and she certainly had not shed a tear over it! Alysanne had never taken that well, but her sisters were flighty and given to stupid games. Just as Septa Bessa was given to working the needle and pointless lessons, whereas Maester Lainn was more given to teaching useful things. Thus, Danelle learned of herbs and their various applications.

It was when their father remarried the harlot commoner, that the elder Lothston sisters joined sisters. Their new Lady Lothston was given to fashions that were anything but decent, barked pointless orders, and ran a once fairly decent House into the ground with what she thought a Lady ought to be. It was around the same time that Elayne began to follow Danelle with large and innocent eyes. It aggravated the girl and she often threatened her younger sister as this new habit brought Septa Bessa down upon them both and worse. Elayne was certain that Alysanne, the daydreaming fool! being heir would be a perfect answer to everything! Alysanne later confronted her and Danelle remarked that if she kept going the way she was going that she would end up the same as her brother. Perhaps harsh, but she recalled that Alysanne had joined in on Benjicot's teasing. It was amusing to her how she could usually shoulder her older sister about and put things just out of reach. When Alysanne disappeared, Danelle found herself the eldest sister and had enough scorn within her to scorch Harrenhal all over again. With Elayne irritating her and Lucas, a young lad who could do no wrong making any room for he was in misery, Danelle was certain that perhaps turning to the dark whispers about the Lothstons would be no bad thing if she could have peace!

She was twelve when the harlot and her little brat, Lucas, took ill. The Master had taken her as a helper and trusted her to deliver medicines. With half the castle coughing with the pox, Danelle had been given her beloved Lady Lothston's medicine. That she added a few pinches of sweetsleep hardly seem relevant against the strapping she had received for not curtsying to the woman and calling her several names she had heard in the town. It was not long after that Danelle was soon heir to Harrenhal, though whispered floated about as they always did about the Lothstons and Harrenhal. She ignored them and put her entire focus on learning how to be a lady who could lead House Lothston.

In more recent years, a woman of martial ability and not interested in lace so much as being the heir. Danelle has been eyeing her father's choices for her husband and finding them all lacking. She has no wish for a husband, but his search for a wife and a son to make heir of Harrenhal is not something she can allow to pass by.

Elayne Lothston

Elayne Lothston

Age:

16, born in 186 AC

Appearance:

If any of the Lothston sisters could be called beautiful in the purest sense, it would be Elayne. Willowy with reddish-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a heart-shaped face she has had a few suitors from minor houses. The unfortunate men were turned away by Manfryd. Given to wearing silks and delighting in everything a lady should, Elayne is not a warrior maid like her sister or even an adventurer like the missing Alysanne. She enjoys her comforts. Jewels sparkle about her and her gowns all sport her own embroidery. Often she finds herself scolded by her father and sister for sighing for a bard or passing knight. Her's is the simple delight of what is expected in life. A husband to provide for her wants and to keep her from the woes of life.

Description & biography:

With a mother who died during her birth, siblings at rivalry with each other, a father more interested in being a lord than even his youngest daughter, and a second mother who was as wont to sneer at her as dote upon her, Elayne's life was turbulent and troubled. Any attempt to get close to Danelle was met with harsh words and threats, Alysanne had some time to play but most of it was taken up with studies, and as he became older Lucas grew to be a terror that even she could not stand. After Alysanne's disappearance, Elayne kept to Septa Bessa. Learning how to dance, needlepoint, and all other things a lady might need.

In comparison, it could be said that Elayne was the meekest of the sisters, given to seeing beauty in all things and trying to be forever the optimist. Flights of fancy and bouts of daydreaming nonsense as Danelle would call it. Her father and sister were constantly keeping a sharp eye on her and kept the girl within Harrenhal. Perhaps she forgot where she left her gloves, or perhaps she did not notice it was raining but they were such minor things when there was a beautiful flower she had seen or something to delight over. A dress to be made, a new treat to try. The kindest thing to say of the woman is that perhaps her life is a bit to full of dreams that she forgets the mud of the lake that lies just outside of the walls and the bloodied battle that had reigned on it's shores during Maegor the Cruel's time.

Household

Jeyne Lothston

Jeyne Lothston

Age:

38, born in 164 AC

Appearance:

A pretty woman in her youth with fine red, gold hair and pale skin. Now in her later years she has collected a fair bit of lines about her eyes and mouth. Worry rides upon her brow and for all her years, she had born no children. Though her beauty is still seen in those graceful features. Despite her banishment from court she kept her finery even when married to a minor lord who already had a house full of children.

Description & biography:

Once she was a mistress to King Aegon 'The Unworthy'until she caught the pox. The whispers that float about that illicit affair drove her father to find her a husband soon after their return from court and Jeyne was passed into obscurity. To mind a houseful of children and a minor lord who was little more than a steward. Two years ago, she returned to Harrenhal after her husband died and the children turned her out, leaving Jeyne to face the scorn of her younger brother and his charity. While neither get along and both greatly dislike the other, Manfryd would not have Jeyne languish about the land as a ill testament to the stain on House Lothston. So he keeps her close and as little more than a lady's maid for his two daughters. Elayne tries to speak of the Seven to Jeyne and assure her all will be forgiven while Danelle ignores the woman in public. Privately putting their heads together to speak of things best left to women and darkness.

ASOIAF - Fire and Blood

Hey, I'm interested and I could be down for any point in history! @Sini Do you think there will be a character limit or will we be able to play multiples within our ability?

Mark me down for Blackfyre Rebellion!

Ancient God's, a specific IC 《WORLD BUILDING》

To start out there are things I do that I like having back from my partners.

1Adult Themes: First off, I like mature themes. Smut, violence, gore. The world is not always a nice place and things happen. That being said I will work with limits when they are given, but I want to be able to push and expand the borders of the world as much as possible.

Quality over Quantity: While both are nice, I want to write with someone who can get inside their characters. Give me detail of what I'm seeing rather than saying a tree is a tree. Flesh it out, tell me if it's old or young. Ripe with fruit or not. I don't expect to have every stick described but I do want a good idea of what is going on. No one liners with the very rare exception. I have had maybe less than five one liners and one of them was one lover telling the other, "I need you to die.", which was more than enough.

Posting Times and Place: I can do Discord, but for something large I prefer here or Google Doc with Discord used to organize the rp and be a quicker way to talk about ideas and plots and such. As for how often posts can happen? I'd like at least once a week, but if you need a month? Then take it. If I need time? I'll take it.

Communication: I will talk to you. I will work with you. And in building a world we will need to communicate and compromise and draw hard limits at time. Sometimes that means we need to pause and think when someone gets stuck or is not okay with something.

Multiple Characters:I can run Multiple Characters at once as we get them up off the ground. I expect my partner to do that same. Also, I prefer playing playing women, but I can and do play males just as much.

World Building: I make worlds. I enjoy it. But of its a historical world? You aren't going to have toliets in ancient Rome. Keep in mind time and place, do research if you have to. I will jump down a rabbit hole and enjoy it.

Now, that being said. Here is what I'm looking for in world building if you kept on this long. I will add more as they come to me.

Ancient Gods
A world based around the ancient Deities found around the Mediterranean. They are real and interract in the lives of mortals. Kingdoms fight, children are born and love and hatred blooms like flowers. This is more historical and thus can vary. From a Priestess of Apollo journeying to a new temple on the orders of her God. To the half mortal child of Set guarding his temple as fierce as a hawk. Or shall we revive Alantis?

Justice League Dark Rp

Is this still going on, because I am interesred.

Lost Adventures of Hitor

Tossing up a rough one on a winter night's of writing.

Bottle

Name: Taliesin 'Bottle' Arrok
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Appearance: Bottle is someone people dismiss. Usually hunched over, fiddling with the latest object he managed to pluck from somewhere the man wouldn't be out of place in the back corner of a seedy tavern. With his ragged shirt and trousers under padded armor showing the rough life of a hired blade. The man's nose has been broken several times and his eyes are usually on the spectrum between apprehensive, sad, and wondering what horrible fate life has in store for him. High hollow cheekbones and pale eyes, most would say that Bottle's days of glory are long behind him. They'd be right too, seeing people die and succumb to other ill fates engraved its mark on Bottle. With dirty, greasy black hair and tanned, scarred skin he looks the part of a ragged vagabond.

Bio: Born in the backcountry of the Razorthorn Mountains, Bottle's village was on the northern coast trapped between the Frozen Wastes and the Infinite Forest's island and perched in the roots of the mountains. The boy was born to an older woman who was thought to be well past her childbearing age and there were plenty of whispers about her or the potential partner the woman had drawn to create a child with. Not to mention rumors about Bottle himself which only grew as the boy got older and began to speaking to things that the villagers couldn't see. Not the villagers outright said anything, Bottle's mother Miranda was a witch herself and her skills were not something the village could do without. Bandits kept themselves away, as did pirates and all manners of other trouble. As the saying goes, 'where a fat village is without any protection one can see there's a mage of trouble waiting in the eaves'.

Learning as a boy from his mother he tended the farm that yielded only enough from the rocky soil. Taught in the isolated foothills, Bottle talked to the spirits that were said to inhabit the land and encouraged them to help their small farm. He took the minds of animals and often could find a lost goat or warn of when wolves would be likely that winter. All things Bottle would say was paltry to what his mother was capable of as she held her rituals and worked her own magic. When he was approaching twenty, his mother was an old woman and passed away. Unwilling to let go of her Bottle kept in mind her voice as it urged him to travel south and not remain in the village. This was probably a good thing as without a mage to protect them, the villagers would be looking for a new defender and Bottle would have been their first choice. Not something the young man wanted.

So he traveled South selling trinkets to help fund his journey and found himself signing up to serve in the Grand Empire of Man's forces. Serving in the 7th Squad, he found himself liked well enough considering he was abysmal at first with the sword and hardly any warrior to sing of. As they fought in skirmishes against raiding parties of goblins, orcs and bandits, Bottle earned his nickname for the different bottles he often had on him for his alchemical fiddling or containing some lizard or rat his had plucked up and would later release to see through its eyes while it scouted before it disappeared to the wilds. With his knowledge (soul stone) of nature the squad quickly became of the better scouts in their section and Bottle was readily accepted as something of a younger sibling rather than a full brother in arms by the other men and women.

Though while the life of a soldier can be glorious, there is a slightly long period of tedium where nothing happens and it was on this tedium while playing with the magics and simply enjoying himself, Bottle slightly disrupted the experiments of another mage of the town they were stationed at. Belengard T'vess had been less than impressed at Bottle just bouncing magic around like the novice he was and the human he was. The elf was far more irritated because of the potential he could see in this country bumpkin, and insulted by it. Bottle himself saw it polite to apologize and offer to help fix things, which only irritated T'vess more. A human offering to help him fix a spell of elven make? Bottle was quite confused as to why the elf had been so offended and irritated and could easily hear his mother tsking her tongue in disapproval of the high and mighty elf. Unfortunately, he was also tsking his tongue and Belengard was even more outraged by the action. Soon, Bottle found himself being hauled away by his captain and dressed down for offending the locals. In truth, the captain had been paying T'vess for his assistance in some personal matters and going deep in debt for it. When Bottle pointed this out, oblivious that he was not supposed to know it and only knowing because he had been fiddling about with riding the mind of a pigeon, the captain quickly took steps to bring Bottle up on trumped-up charges and kicked the young man of twenty-nine years out of the squad along with a few other 'problem soldiers' who had been toeing the captain's line.

Ever since then, Bottle had made his way as a sellsword and more often than not having to dodge out of town every so often for overhearing or seeing something he shouldn't have while playing about his magic and uncovering some of the better-kept secrets. Since then he's become a bit edgy and rather nervous around people. Often seeming distracted by watching some distant thing or contemplating some vermin be it walking or flying.

Personality quirks: "Really, my mother was the wise one. She cut through to the heart of every matter and knew everything.", "It's just old charms and spells that I enjoy, the flash and bang of battle... It is unnerving to be able to cause such misery because you failed at a spell."

Personal Goal: Bottle's goal is to stay alive and keep enough coin to fill his belly and his mug with ale while he enjoys playing with the magic he possesses.

Bonds: The 7th Squad, a former military squad that Bottle used to work with before he was kicked out for 'inability to follow orders' by an uppity captain along with a few others. Bottle was on good terms with the rest of his squad and shortly after Bottle was disgraced the captain found himself being solidly stonewalled by irritated subordinates.

Belengard T'vess- A rivalry more on Belengard's side as he found Bottle's aptitude for magic something of a threat to his own skills and practes when the two crossed while Bottle was first starting out as a sword for hire.

Equipment: Several different alchemical potions, his grimoire, rations for several days lost somewhere at the bottom of his pack, a sword and a shield (Soft wood with iron spikes.). A solid pair of boots, blackened chains beneath standard leather hauberks. His mother's ritual knife with arcane runes on the side.

Skills/Abilities:
Nature- Able to see through the eyes of animals and coax them to doing his bidding, Bottle is fond of this and enjoys speaking to the trees and 'spirits' of nature about him. Though perhaps by his own willful blindness to the facts, he sees himself as a decent farmer with some ability to talk to the spirits that tend to the plants and encourage them to influence their perches, whereas in truth he is encouraging the plants themselves. He has innate sense, knack as he calls it, to not get lost.

Basic sword/shield skills- Bottle is decent with a sword but there's not the making of a master swordsman within him. He fights better in a group flanking someone than on his own.

Scouting - A much more agile and intune scout, Bottle is very good at scouting out areas and sneaking up on an opponent.

Alchemical knowledge - He knows enough to put some basic first aid together and fiddles with different mixtures to pass the time when fiddling with magic would annoy his higher-ups.

Other Information: any special information about your character including Adventurer rank (must be approved by GM, so shoot me a pm and let’s talk)

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

Bump

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

Bump

The Prince's Royal Guard

Zatana glared at Clarisse as the woman laughed, so assured that she would not break under the torture that would come. She had the right mind for the work, the dark elf would credit her that. After all, it was only the job that mattered, and if you failed to get away? Well, that was hardly the problem of your employer or whomever your loyalty lay with under the condition of course that you would not break under torture or had something stashed away as to hasten your demise. Had it been her in Clarisse's situation? Zatana would have bit off her own tongue seeing so many of her fellows captured. If it had been her alone? She would hold out, endure and wait and see if escape would be viable later. If that proved too much? She knew death would be merciful by then if she at first lacked the resolve. Restraining herself from throttling the woman, Zatana gave a mental sigh of relief as the doors opened to admit Balthazar. In this matter, it was better for the spymaster to make the call. Her own fear of her grandfather's potential recall of her and declaring her task a failure was pushing her far too deep into the realm that her torture without restraint might kill a few of them.

Balthazar's words to Clarisse relieved some of that tension however and the dark elven woman nearly crowed in delight at the expressions on the faces of the incompetent assassin and the 'old' wizard. Watching with a malicious smile as Clarisse and her company were dragged off to cells, Zatana spared an ear for Acrius's tale and winced at the many flaws and mistakes. Her own were quite clear and she doubtlessly hear about them in length at some point. Of course, it would match most closely to the own tear she was taking out of her spirit. How could she have joined the siege at the cost of the Prince's protection throughout it? She could have and should have refused the order and her own want to wander and observe the town to remain near Prince Leonidas. It was not a mistake she would repeat. But there was some relief in the fact that the prince would not be dying of the poison. Looking away from the cells to focus on the others and shield her obvious relief of that fact from the prisoners, Zatana felt her spine stiffen as Balthazar turned to her.

And ordered her to get to work.

While the wizard looked nearly as sadistic as a drow could hope, Zatana's fist curled over her heart in a salute. Her black eyes flashing with delight and fury and her smile a hungry grin. "It will be my pleasure, My Lord Balthazar. Would you care to assist or observe at your leisure?" She would not necessarily ask or offer, but Zatana had a measure of respect for the man. It was nothing she would not given her own commander. Looking to several of the guards, she considered them. They were from Bergkoff and she debated using them to assist them. Her lips thinned as she realized they would be of use. If only to help manage the prisoners while she kept herself fresh. Six prisoners to break was no small number and despite herself, Zatana found herself a bit skeptical about the order to be 'quick' about it. As it was, those guards would walk away with tales of drowish torture and that was something Bergkoff would not welcome.

Not waiting for Balthazar's reply but allowing him to stay or go as well as the others, Zatana stalked down the row of cells like some hunting cat. Fingering each door until she came to the man she had captured in the stables. "Perhaps I should have my mare brought down..." She crooned. "She did want a piece of your flesh." The man shuddered as Zatana nodded to the guards as they seized him and dragged him from his cell to tie him to a chair. Zatana paused in front of Clarisse's cell and gave the woman a cruel smile as she followed them. "Gag her and the others, I would not want them to get any rude ideas. Her..." She gestured at the stubborn woman. "You, I shall save for last. It will be most delightful." Continuing to the chair she studied the man in it who looked up at her in terror and Zatana selected a knife from a set that one of the stony face guards brought. "It is not drowish make, but... It shall suffice to make them sing the tunes they know. You." She gestured at one of the guards who was helping to gag the prisoners per her order. "Bring me-" She rattled over several items, some of which seemed nonsensical but with others, there was no mistaking what they were for. Satisfied that her tools would be gathered she turned back the man who was regretting everything in his life that brought him to this point, the dark elven woman gave a throaty laugh. She would start with the weakest and work towards Clarisse then back through the others in reverse order. They would live the first time, but the second time? They had a choice and there was only one way to end Zatana's questioning. To answer her questions.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Forcing her heavy breathing to slow, Zatana took a moment to survey the stables then bent to the task at hand. The man would not be moving for a while and while the drow would be happy enough with that, it would be sloppy to not properly process him as would be expected per her training. It was that professionalism that kept her moving when she wanted to sit down. Snatching one of her smaller daggers, the assassin sliced the lesser's shirt and tunic along the seams carefully watching for any hidden items. Which she was does not disappointed with a set of lock picks, setting them aside upon the cloth that had been the man's cloak. The boots and socks followed. Ruthlessly Zatana checked his hair, behind his ears, and the seams and hem of his trousers. It was commonplace for a strangler's cord, poison, or some charm to be hidden away in cases such as these. Jerking his mouth open, she poked out and pulled out a cord nearly choking the man as she pulled out a small packet and flicked it onto the cloak as well. Finally satisfied that he would not be pulling a suicide attempt by her neglect, the drow gave a snarl as she ruthlessly bound his wrists together and hobbled his feet with leads from the stable.

The mare within her stall gave a snort of disgust that matched her mistress's mood as the drow gathered the cloak. "Yes, I agree." Zatana spat her irritation, though she did approach the mare much to the terror of the man as he slowly began coming out of his pain-induced stun. "I should give him to you, perhaps if we do not need him the Lord will agree." She stroked the mare and offered a handful of hay. The mare took it and nearly took her fingers as well though Zatana was an old hand at the devil creature's tricks. Turning away, the drow gripped the man's scalp, hauled him to his feet, and shoved him before her. "Move and make another foolish move?" Her voice was a velvet croon as if begging the man to do something stupid. "And we shall see what body parts you do not need before your questioning even begins. Just imagine the pain I could deal you if I had a dagger to your..." She laughed a cruel sound that echoed in the night. There were some benefits to the image the drow had and this was one of those times that Zatana would abandon her silence to shamelessly intimidate the enemy.

Guiding the man back into the keep, looking for the Spymaster and mage. Zatana was fingering her dagger and considering how best to butcher the man before her. Something was going on this night and if anything happened out of hand with the Prince? She was going to destroy this man as a sacrifice to her rage. Though she had left the Dread Coast behind the woman was still a drow and worse? If something had happened, it might well mean her own head or something else unpleasant. Unsatisfied with how slow the man was walking, from a mixture of pain and trying to buy time, Zatana finally gripped his neck and hauled him along. Her nails digging furrows into his skin that dripped red blood in tiny trails down his neck. "Cowardly bastard." She sneered in disgust. Spying a servant she snapped at the woman, her accent rolling harsh off her tongue. "Where is Balthazar, and the Prince?"

The kitchen maid who had been awaken by the noise of people running about and now was hauling a kettle to the Duke's room with which to boul water, nearly dropped the brass kettle from the terror of a drow woman appearing out of the darkness hauling a man. Of course, everyone knew there was a drow in the Prince's Royal Guard since the seige, but this was- "Woman, where is the mage?" The maid pointed, her hand shaking as the drow strode pass hauling a shirtless and brutally beaten young man with her. "The Prince?" The question made the younger woman jump and shake her head mutely, unable to answer a question she did not know the answer to. The curse that followed would have turned a cow's milk sour. Zatana herself was past the point of caring. Spies were expected. Spies who were being such idiots as to try and steal her own horse of all horses?

"Did everyone lose their senses this night?!" She demanded of the young man and jerked him along as he stumbled over the stones. She had taken a bit of time to recover and chaos had opened a door and dropped incompetents upon the castle. It only proved her point right that being on alert all the time was a good idea. The one time you relaxed even slightly the enemy would slip in and decide to cause problems. Growling Zatana snapped at a few more servants for directions, and decided if she didn't find the spymaster shortly she would butcher this particular man herself and be damned what the humans, elves, orcs, werewolves, lizardmen, priestesses, or any other being she could possibly give a single damn about thought! Then she could be rid of him in hands he would not escape from and she could go check on the Prince and stay with the Prince until this entire matter was settled!