@rush999999 (do I have the right number of nines?)
I would certainly be very interested. I will send you a PM to discuss things in more detail.
I would certainly be very interested. I will send you a PM to discuss things in more detail.
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Raunchel
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Lady of Masks
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Setting things up
Thank you for your warm welcome! It's really funny to meet someone else who is Dutch, even if it's just only.
There are several characters that I have in my head, some of whom I have even had the pleasure of playing briefly in the past, that I would simply love to play. Either 1x1, or in a group. Some of these ideas have been written in the form of a story while others are more descriptive. It all really depends on the mood I was in while writing them out.
I of course hope to play one of these characters, and am planning to add a little from time to time. I however have a few requests. First of all, if romance is included, I would prefer it to be a lesbian romance. I feel deeply uncomfortable roleplaying anything else. Aside from that, I am looking for a bit of quality in the writing, but I’m not someone who goes crazy as soon as she sees a typo or something like that. I hope that you can extend the same courtesy to me. At times, my schedule might make it difficult to keep a very high pace. I can’t always predict how busy I will be, but I do try to keep posting.
If you have any questions, you can of course ask! Of course, I can always make changes to fit better with what you are looking for.
I of course hope to play one of these characters, and am planning to add a little from time to time. I however have a few requests. First of all, if romance is included, I would prefer it to be a lesbian romance. I feel deeply uncomfortable roleplaying anything else. Aside from that, I am looking for a bit of quality in the writing, but I’m not someone who goes crazy as soon as she sees a typo or something like that. I hope that you can extend the same courtesy to me. At times, my schedule might make it difficult to keep a very high pace. I can’t always predict how busy I will be, but I do try to keep posting.
If you have any questions, you can of course ask! Of course, I can always make changes to fit better with what you are looking for.
The basic idea of this character is a slightly naive girl who has fallen in love with someone who can best be described as a big bad. Her parents were rather powerful mages, keeping an item the big bad needed for her plans. This baddie used Mirela’s feelings to gain access to the tower, removing the mages and taking the artefact for herself. As a fortunate side-effect, she found herself with an infatuated yet pretty girl, who also knows quite a bit about magic.
A beautiful girl looks at herself in a large, gold-framed mirror. Her face seems sad between her golden curls, but she forces a smile onto her face as she begins to speak to her mirror image: “Oh, hello. Ehm, my name is Mirela, or empress-consort Mirela, to use the full title. It is really nice that you are here, I just want to talk to somebody, someone who really cares, and I know that you do, Alerim. You are my closest friend after all. This is the first time that I have the time to talk to you since I left home. Now, let me tell you how all this happened. Of course, you know quite some of it already, but I just love the story, it’s so romantic!”
She pauses for a few moments, her smile becoming sincere as she adjusts her hair. “Well, as I told you before, I used to live with my parents. But I wasn’t really happy there, they were focused only on their research, and had conjured servants care for me. I didn’t have any friends, except for you of course, and my books. We had a vast library, and I think that I might have disappointed my parents a bit by not focusing on the scholarly works, but on some of the other books that they had procured. They told me that there was no greater crime than to throw away a book, and so they had plenty that they would never read. Some of these were wonderful tales, about lost princesses, brave knights and evil dragons. I just loved those. Of course, I did some studying, which I also liked, but I always went back to the tales.”
Again she stops, looking her mirror image her blue eyes. “But I was lonely, really lonely. They couldn’t find out about you, Alerim, no one can. They would call me crazy, and I don’t want to be crazy. Of course, I occasionally used the crystal sphere to spy on places, which was a lot of fun, but not something that I was really allowed to do. But I saw a few things, mostly things that my parents had already seen before me. There was a knight, going through cities and villages, and raising a banner over all of them. It seemed so exciting.”
Her eyes widen, along with her smile: “And one day, I was torn from my books by my father to come to the balcony. Together with my mother and him I saw a knight approach, at the head of an army. I knew the knight, the same one from the sphere! You wouldn’t believe how excited I was about that turn of events. And things got even better when she took off her helmet, and I saw her face. I know that it is a bit of a cliché, but I almost melted at that moment. She looked at me, and remained silent for an eternity, I met her eyes, and I knew the truth.”
She smiles widely now, and even seems to gain some colour in her face. “My heart was beating so hard that I almost didn’t hear what was being said. Her voice was so beautiful. And she actually looked at me. The knight was so wonderful that I almost missed her name, Cruatra. She said that she wanted to trade something, offering her protection and lots of gold and books for, well, I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but let’s just say an ancient artefact with enormous powers. Unfortunately, my parents got really angry, and shouted that she should leave, or she would be torn asunder by their magics. Before Cruatra turned around to leave, she looked at me for several moments, and I knew that there was a spark. Or more than a spark really.”
Her smile starts to fade a little: “That evening I asked what it all was about, and I was told that I shouldn’t get involved with anything like her. When I was alone again, I finally understood it all. My life was like in the stories. After all, I was imprisoned in a tower, I had never left it. And Cruatra would take me away, and we would live happily ever after, if only I could make contact with her. Of course, I knew one or two things about magic, and using the crystal sphere, and some spellwork I had seen my parents use before, I could contact her. She could see me too, or at least my face, and she was so nice to me. She told me that she had been thinking about me all night, and was so sorry that she couldn’t talk to me. I told her that I could perhaps contact her some more time through these means, without my parents knowing, and that made her truly happy.”
Her smile returns, as she stands beaming in front of the mirror: “Finally I had a strong motivation to focus on study, and I worked very hard, learning dozens of new types of magic, while I spent several nights talking to Cruatra. She told me about her heroics, and listened to all the things that I had to say, just like you do. I felt so happy, finally someone who cared for me. She told me that she would soon crown herself empress of quite some lands that she had united, by force of arms of course. She told me about great battles. You wouldn’t believe how brave she is, and the enemies that she has defeated. Eventually she also told me that she needed the thing that I can’t talk about, and I said that I would give it to her if I could, but I was bound to the tower, I couldn’t leave.”
With her wide pupils Mirela looks at herself: “And we talked more and more, and Cruatra showed me the truth. That my parents were the bad people, for locking me up like that, and I started to work on something else, a way to let her enter. Soon enough, some two months after we had first met, I got it to work, and she entered through a portal in my room. She was so sweet to me, she embraced me, and even gave me my first ever kiss. And better yet, she asked me to marry her, to which I of course agreed. She did what she had to do to save me, and finally the doors could open, and we left together. Everything from my old home was brought here, to the castle, and proclamations were read throughout the land. I have been so busy, so I couldn’t talk to you, but yesterday we finally married. O, you wouldn’t believe how happy I am.”
She glances aside: “But I must go now, as queen-consort I have so many duties, it will be my first time in the royal court.”
A beautiful girl looks at herself in a large, gold-framed mirror. Her face seems sad between her golden curls, but she forces a smile onto her face as she begins to speak to her mirror image: “Oh, hello. Ehm, my name is Mirela, or empress-consort Mirela, to use the full title. It is really nice that you are here, I just want to talk to somebody, someone who really cares, and I know that you do, Alerim. You are my closest friend after all. This is the first time that I have the time to talk to you since I left home. Now, let me tell you how all this happened. Of course, you know quite some of it already, but I just love the story, it’s so romantic!”
She pauses for a few moments, her smile becoming sincere as she adjusts her hair. “Well, as I told you before, I used to live with my parents. But I wasn’t really happy there, they were focused only on their research, and had conjured servants care for me. I didn’t have any friends, except for you of course, and my books. We had a vast library, and I think that I might have disappointed my parents a bit by not focusing on the scholarly works, but on some of the other books that they had procured. They told me that there was no greater crime than to throw away a book, and so they had plenty that they would never read. Some of these were wonderful tales, about lost princesses, brave knights and evil dragons. I just loved those. Of course, I did some studying, which I also liked, but I always went back to the tales.”
Again she stops, looking her mirror image her blue eyes. “But I was lonely, really lonely. They couldn’t find out about you, Alerim, no one can. They would call me crazy, and I don’t want to be crazy. Of course, I occasionally used the crystal sphere to spy on places, which was a lot of fun, but not something that I was really allowed to do. But I saw a few things, mostly things that my parents had already seen before me. There was a knight, going through cities and villages, and raising a banner over all of them. It seemed so exciting.”
Her eyes widen, along with her smile: “And one day, I was torn from my books by my father to come to the balcony. Together with my mother and him I saw a knight approach, at the head of an army. I knew the knight, the same one from the sphere! You wouldn’t believe how excited I was about that turn of events. And things got even better when she took off her helmet, and I saw her face. I know that it is a bit of a cliché, but I almost melted at that moment. She looked at me, and remained silent for an eternity, I met her eyes, and I knew the truth.”
She smiles widely now, and even seems to gain some colour in her face. “My heart was beating so hard that I almost didn’t hear what was being said. Her voice was so beautiful. And she actually looked at me. The knight was so wonderful that I almost missed her name, Cruatra. She said that she wanted to trade something, offering her protection and lots of gold and books for, well, I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but let’s just say an ancient artefact with enormous powers. Unfortunately, my parents got really angry, and shouted that she should leave, or she would be torn asunder by their magics. Before Cruatra turned around to leave, she looked at me for several moments, and I knew that there was a spark. Or more than a spark really.”
Her smile starts to fade a little: “That evening I asked what it all was about, and I was told that I shouldn’t get involved with anything like her. When I was alone again, I finally understood it all. My life was like in the stories. After all, I was imprisoned in a tower, I had never left it. And Cruatra would take me away, and we would live happily ever after, if only I could make contact with her. Of course, I knew one or two things about magic, and using the crystal sphere, and some spellwork I had seen my parents use before, I could contact her. She could see me too, or at least my face, and she was so nice to me. She told me that she had been thinking about me all night, and was so sorry that she couldn’t talk to me. I told her that I could perhaps contact her some more time through these means, without my parents knowing, and that made her truly happy.”
Her smile returns, as she stands beaming in front of the mirror: “Finally I had a strong motivation to focus on study, and I worked very hard, learning dozens of new types of magic, while I spent several nights talking to Cruatra. She told me about her heroics, and listened to all the things that I had to say, just like you do. I felt so happy, finally someone who cared for me. She told me that she would soon crown herself empress of quite some lands that she had united, by force of arms of course. She told me about great battles. You wouldn’t believe how brave she is, and the enemies that she has defeated. Eventually she also told me that she needed the thing that I can’t talk about, and I said that I would give it to her if I could, but I was bound to the tower, I couldn’t leave.”
With her wide pupils Mirela looks at herself: “And we talked more and more, and Cruatra showed me the truth. That my parents were the bad people, for locking me up like that, and I started to work on something else, a way to let her enter. Soon enough, some two months after we had first met, I got it to work, and she entered through a portal in my room. She was so sweet to me, she embraced me, and even gave me my first ever kiss. And better yet, she asked me to marry her, to which I of course agreed. She did what she had to do to save me, and finally the doors could open, and we left together. Everything from my old home was brought here, to the castle, and proclamations were read throughout the land. I have been so busy, so I couldn’t talk to you, but yesterday we finally married. O, you wouldn’t believe how happy I am.”
She glances aside: “But I must go now, as queen-consort I have so many duties, it will be my first time in the royal court.”
She is Drimanai, a priestess of a good goddess who had done a little research, but of course, she read too much and now she has fallen in love with a long-vanquished lich. Of course, she believes that she can actually bring the monster back and that they will be eternaly happy together. She will start out as a very naive young priestess, but she might change during her quest, and of course, she might not be entirely happy with what she finds at the end of it.
Dear diary,
I don’t know what to do. I told you before, but only in vague terms, if the others found out they will lock me up, and I don’t even know if that would be a good thing. It started when I studied the diaries of the lich Arathea, and I immediately felt sympathy for her. She had such a sense of humor, and her observations were just wonderful. Added to that she had a great appreciation for study. A truly wonderful being. I kept reading and reading, and I dreamt of her, what she would be like, in her cold beauty. I just couldn’t think of anything else. I dug through the library to find more about her, and discovered that these diaries had been brought here by a group of warriors who had defeated her, but they couldn’t find her phylactery, and they hoped that one of our order could have deduced it. The ones who studied it first didn’t, but I understand her, I know it, but I will never tell them. No, I want to be with her, to free her from her secret prison. But I have my vows, I cannot just break them.
Unless, unless I do. Why should I remain here, I was raised here, and I studied, in service of the Light. But the appeal is gone. I will only ever be happy with Arathea, I have to find her. But will she like me? What am I? She was a great terror to the world, I am a humble priestess here in the abbey. I haven’t even seen an outsider in my whole life. But, what if I turn to the darkness, leave the Goddess behind forever and seek a new master, one that would allow my desires. To do what I want instead of what I’m supposed to do. Yes, that’s it, I will become like Arathea, and will bring the world down.
But how do I go about being evil? I don’t really want to hurt anyone, especially not my sisters, and I don’t really have any minions to boss around. What would Arathea do? Well, probably she would use her magic to destroy the convent, take the library for herself and reanimate everyone inside to serve her. That isn’t really an option right now. Although, there are a few treasures that I could steal before running away…
I don’t know what to do. I told you before, but only in vague terms, if the others found out they will lock me up, and I don’t even know if that would be a good thing. It started when I studied the diaries of the lich Arathea, and I immediately felt sympathy for her. She had such a sense of humor, and her observations were just wonderful. Added to that she had a great appreciation for study. A truly wonderful being. I kept reading and reading, and I dreamt of her, what she would be like, in her cold beauty. I just couldn’t think of anything else. I dug through the library to find more about her, and discovered that these diaries had been brought here by a group of warriors who had defeated her, but they couldn’t find her phylactery, and they hoped that one of our order could have deduced it. The ones who studied it first didn’t, but I understand her, I know it, but I will never tell them. No, I want to be with her, to free her from her secret prison. But I have my vows, I cannot just break them.
Unless, unless I do. Why should I remain here, I was raised here, and I studied, in service of the Light. But the appeal is gone. I will only ever be happy with Arathea, I have to find her. But will she like me? What am I? She was a great terror to the world, I am a humble priestess here in the abbey. I haven’t even seen an outsider in my whole life. But, what if I turn to the darkness, leave the Goddess behind forever and seek a new master, one that would allow my desires. To do what I want instead of what I’m supposed to do. Yes, that’s it, I will become like Arathea, and will bring the world down.
But how do I go about being evil? I don’t really want to hurt anyone, especially not my sisters, and I don’t really have any minions to boss around. What would Arathea do? Well, probably she would use her magic to destroy the convent, take the library for herself and reanimate everyone inside to serve her. That isn’t really an option right now. Although, there are a few treasures that I could steal before running away…
Dear diary,
I did it. I left the convent, I couldn’t bring myself to really damage anything, but I did scratch across a mural of the Goddess. It made me feel bad, both in the good and the bad way. I was so proud of myself, but at the same time there was a sense of wrongness in it. Now I am somewhere I don’t know where. I used a scroll that we kept, allowing me to teleport, I imagined the city of Drusthai, which I had once observed through magic. But I think that I made a mistake, and now I ended up here. In the distance there is a small town, I will walk there. I just hope that this place isn’t too close to home, they will be looking for me to bring me back.
Anyways, I will have to do something about how I look. This way she will never see me as a proper companion. But how should I dress? I have read a bit about it, but it is hard. It appears to be customary to wear something skimpy as an evil woman, but I don’t want that, I might be evil now, but I still like being warm and then I would always be cold. Another option is spiky armor, but that seems heavy, and I’m not very strong. Then there are black robes, but I’m not sure, it might look a bit stupid, I am blonde after all, and it might make me look far too pale. I’ll have to see what I can find, I think.
I did it. I left the convent, I couldn’t bring myself to really damage anything, but I did scratch across a mural of the Goddess. It made me feel bad, both in the good and the bad way. I was so proud of myself, but at the same time there was a sense of wrongness in it. Now I am somewhere I don’t know where. I used a scroll that we kept, allowing me to teleport, I imagined the city of Drusthai, which I had once observed through magic. But I think that I made a mistake, and now I ended up here. In the distance there is a small town, I will walk there. I just hope that this place isn’t too close to home, they will be looking for me to bring me back.
Anyways, I will have to do something about how I look. This way she will never see me as a proper companion. But how should I dress? I have read a bit about it, but it is hard. It appears to be customary to wear something skimpy as an evil woman, but I don’t want that, I might be evil now, but I still like being warm and then I would always be cold. Another option is spiky armor, but that seems heavy, and I’m not very strong. Then there are black robes, but I’m not sure, it might look a bit stupid, I am blonde after all, and it might make me look far too pale. I’ll have to see what I can find, I think.
This is a concept that I've wanted to play for quite a while, a construct, lost in a world she doesn't know, looking to return to her stable home which may not exist anymore. I have written this in such a way that she could be fitted in almost anywhere. I leave it entirely up to you what happened to her after her sleep. She could still be under the rubble, or someone could have put her somewhere as a statue, or she could even have been brought to the laboratory of a Mad Scientist(TM)
Years ago the archmage Firona was lonely, she longed for company but couldn’t trust anyone. She had her constructs, but they were mere automatons, incapable of discussing anything with her. So she set about doing what few had ever tried before. She was going to create a fully functional intelligent construct. She tried dozens of times, but most failed spectacularly, but eventually she found the right magical formulas. The result was Sidira, a creature made from many metals and a painted face, animated to seem almost human. As a precaution she needed to be wound up every few days, and her hands couldn’t reach her back. Firona hoped that this would prevent some of the earlier disasters she had had with disobedient constructs. She was capable of thinking and speaking, but magic seemed to never touch her. This was a major disappointment to Firona, but at least Sidira was capable of conversations, and actually was quite a good assistant.
Sidira was a loyal servant, and came to ever greater understanding. She helped her mistress in the construction of more servants, but none of them had what she had, the spark of true intelligence. But that wasn’t needed in them, they had other tasks. The archmage’s scrying had revealed that local towns were growing afraid of her and her quest for materials, and they were hiring warriors to put an end to the perceived threat. Firona responded by vindicating their fears, she sent her clockwork horrors to attack the nearby villages, to gain more knowledge about their abilities in combat, and to be ready when it came to war.
These raids only frightened the local people, and many started to flee to the perceived safety of their walls. They however weren’t completely helpless, a small group of warriors had arrived, they were outlandish but capable. They struck the tower with a lightning attack, somehow entering through the basements. There they encountered Sidira, who of course tried to stop them. But one of the invaders was a mage and he caused the roof to collapse onto the construct. She tried to clear her way to freedom, but it all was too heavy, and eventually the key completed its final turn, and she fell silent, her thoughts coming to a halt.
Years ago the archmage Firona was lonely, she longed for company but couldn’t trust anyone. She had her constructs, but they were mere automatons, incapable of discussing anything with her. So she set about doing what few had ever tried before. She was going to create a fully functional intelligent construct. She tried dozens of times, but most failed spectacularly, but eventually she found the right magical formulas. The result was Sidira, a creature made from many metals and a painted face, animated to seem almost human. As a precaution she needed to be wound up every few days, and her hands couldn’t reach her back. Firona hoped that this would prevent some of the earlier disasters she had had with disobedient constructs. She was capable of thinking and speaking, but magic seemed to never touch her. This was a major disappointment to Firona, but at least Sidira was capable of conversations, and actually was quite a good assistant.
Sidira was a loyal servant, and came to ever greater understanding. She helped her mistress in the construction of more servants, but none of them had what she had, the spark of true intelligence. But that wasn’t needed in them, they had other tasks. The archmage’s scrying had revealed that local towns were growing afraid of her and her quest for materials, and they were hiring warriors to put an end to the perceived threat. Firona responded by vindicating their fears, she sent her clockwork horrors to attack the nearby villages, to gain more knowledge about their abilities in combat, and to be ready when it came to war.
These raids only frightened the local people, and many started to flee to the perceived safety of their walls. They however weren’t completely helpless, a small group of warriors had arrived, they were outlandish but capable. They struck the tower with a lightning attack, somehow entering through the basements. There they encountered Sidira, who of course tried to stop them. But one of the invaders was a mage and he caused the roof to collapse onto the construct. She tried to clear her way to freedom, but it all was too heavy, and eventually the key completed its final turn, and she fell silent, her thoughts coming to a halt.
Drusilla Firantis is the marchioness of Diron, essentially a local prince who rules her little kingdom with an iron fist. She is very paranoid, to the extent that she doesn’t even trust her food.
Drusilla was born as the third child of marques Drusus IV of Diron. She was raised in luxury but when she was only thirteen her uncle Clodius attempted to seize power and killed his brother and all of his offspring except for Drusilla who managed to escape by hiding in a secret room, from which she observed the slaughter. That day she learned that titles and right don’t give power, the only source of power is power. When everyone was gone she sneaked out of the keep, looking for a place to hide. That night she dreamt, in her dream she saw fire and suffering, and a winged woman. This woman offered her help to Drusilla, in return she only wanted the girl to swear, on her soul, to aid her at an undefined date. Drusilla accepted this offer and the stranger opened her eyes to the powers of dark magic. The next day Drusilla walked into the keep. The guards took her to her uncle, and when she set her eyes on him he screamed as he burned alive, but was unable to move. Afterwards everyone knelt and swore loyalty to her, not wanting to meet that same fate.
Drusilla proved to be cruel, but she didn’t suffer from the madness that was all too common in her family which made her relatively effective. She never took a moment for herself, she was always either working or studying. She tried to eat and drink as little as possible, believing that it would be poisoned, and one time she even had the candlemaker arrested because she didn’t feel well and thought that it was due to toxic fumes worked into the candles. Of course the poor man was innocent but Drusilla didn’t think that way. The fact that she hadn’t eaten for three days couldn’t have anything to do with it. Drusilla’s power however increased until she found what she thought to be a way to avoid death and poison. Using terrible magic she tried to turn herself into an undead creature. This however failed miserably and she only succeeded in turning her blood black which caused her veins to become visible under her skin as black lines. She couldn’t show herself to anyone this way and decided to hide her face behind a silver mask and to always cover her entire body. This didn’t particularly surprise those around her because they were already used to her peculiar fears.
Then something happened that made Drusilla a better person. She met a young knight, a woman disguised as a man who called herself Ermenius. Immediately Drusilla felt attracted to this stranger, and they often talked. One night when they were speaking a group of her bodyguards turned on their lady and attempted to kill her. Ermenius defended her while she gathered her power to crush them all. Drusilla knew that the night could simply have betrayed her and would certainly have received a reward. This led to her coming to trust Ermenia. She was already coming under increasing pressure to marry, she needed an heir and there weren’t any relatives alive because she suspected them of plotting against her, even the children had been executed for impossible crimes. Drusilla decided to marry Ermenia, who would simply have to maintain her disguise throughout her life, something to which she didn’t object.
Now Drusilla has been happily married for half a year, of course without any offspring but she doesn’t care about that, she after all intends to live forever with her Ermenia. She rules with an iron fist and gains greater mystical powers every day, although she now takes some more time for herself. Trouble however is rising, she has sent large numbers of soldiers to fight the elves and there is growing unrest in her lands and the city, despite her command to simply execute everyone who speaks of rebellion. At night she dreams again, for the first time since she first swore her unholy vows, but so far she has only seen suffering, Achamani hasn’t yet shown herself.
Drusilla was born as the third child of marques Drusus IV of Diron. She was raised in luxury but when she was only thirteen her uncle Clodius attempted to seize power and killed his brother and all of his offspring except for Drusilla who managed to escape by hiding in a secret room, from which she observed the slaughter. That day she learned that titles and right don’t give power, the only source of power is power. When everyone was gone she sneaked out of the keep, looking for a place to hide. That night she dreamt, in her dream she saw fire and suffering, and a winged woman. This woman offered her help to Drusilla, in return she only wanted the girl to swear, on her soul, to aid her at an undefined date. Drusilla accepted this offer and the stranger opened her eyes to the powers of dark magic. The next day Drusilla walked into the keep. The guards took her to her uncle, and when she set her eyes on him he screamed as he burned alive, but was unable to move. Afterwards everyone knelt and swore loyalty to her, not wanting to meet that same fate.
Drusilla proved to be cruel, but she didn’t suffer from the madness that was all too common in her family which made her relatively effective. She never took a moment for herself, she was always either working or studying. She tried to eat and drink as little as possible, believing that it would be poisoned, and one time she even had the candlemaker arrested because she didn’t feel well and thought that it was due to toxic fumes worked into the candles. Of course the poor man was innocent but Drusilla didn’t think that way. The fact that she hadn’t eaten for three days couldn’t have anything to do with it. Drusilla’s power however increased until she found what she thought to be a way to avoid death and poison. Using terrible magic she tried to turn herself into an undead creature. This however failed miserably and she only succeeded in turning her blood black which caused her veins to become visible under her skin as black lines. She couldn’t show herself to anyone this way and decided to hide her face behind a silver mask and to always cover her entire body. This didn’t particularly surprise those around her because they were already used to her peculiar fears.
Then something happened that made Drusilla a better person. She met a young knight, a woman disguised as a man who called herself Ermenius. Immediately Drusilla felt attracted to this stranger, and they often talked. One night when they were speaking a group of her bodyguards turned on their lady and attempted to kill her. Ermenius defended her while she gathered her power to crush them all. Drusilla knew that the night could simply have betrayed her and would certainly have received a reward. This led to her coming to trust Ermenia. She was already coming under increasing pressure to marry, she needed an heir and there weren’t any relatives alive because she suspected them of plotting against her, even the children had been executed for impossible crimes. Drusilla decided to marry Ermenia, who would simply have to maintain her disguise throughout her life, something to which she didn’t object.
Now Drusilla has been happily married for half a year, of course without any offspring but she doesn’t care about that, she after all intends to live forever with her Ermenia. She rules with an iron fist and gains greater mystical powers every day, although she now takes some more time for herself. Trouble however is rising, she has sent large numbers of soldiers to fight the elves and there is growing unrest in her lands and the city, despite her command to simply execute everyone who speaks of rebellion. At night she dreams again, for the first time since she first swore her unholy vows, but so far she has only seen suffering, Achamani hasn’t yet shown herself.
Drusilla doesn’t realize that she is exceptionally afraid of things, she believes that she just is very rational. She had already been in love with Ermenia before she saved her life, and that event gave her some trust in her. Not much of course, but it was a start. At first she used her magic to constantly spy on her, a method by which she had already uncovered many dark schemes against her, like when she heard two servants whisper about someone who had just been arrested, obviously they were in on his scheme as well, and the traitor had been trained to resist torture, he hadn’t mentioned these two. Somehow she didn’t see any signs of possible treason, probably because Ermenia was very careful, she had already gotten to know Drusilla a bit and understood that she wasn’t entirely right in the mind. Ermenia had felt attracted to her since their first meeting, even though she had only heard her voice. Something in the marchioness made her immensely curious about her, and she simply wanted to be close to her. She didn’t mind her cruelty to others, she herself had already done terrible things as a mercenary, and actually enjoyed it a lot. Being with Drusilla gives her the perfect opportunity to live the life she wants to, people fear her, and she can inflict the most horrible tortures on people without any possible repercussions. She doesn’t always believe Drusilla’s delusions, or rather, she hardly ever believes them, but she pretends to do so. It allows her to inflict horrors on the world around her. They are quite affectionate with eachother, and even in public they show some affection, of course it remains well within society's standards, at most they hold hands.
Drusilla is short and thin because of her poor diet. Her pale skin is crisscrossed by her black veins. She has very long curly red hair which is intermixed with grey. She never cuts it, she doesn’t trust anyone near her with any kind of sharp implement. Whenever she leaves her rooms she wears a silver mask that only shows her bloodshot blue eyes, which has led to her being called the Silver Lady. She no longer is as dehydrated as she used to be, Ermenia has convinced her to drink some water from a small source that she keeps secret from everyone but her. She always wears fully concealing dresses with several layers, she has been cold ever since she first spoke to Achamani.
Ermenia is relatively tall, and next to Drusilla she almost seems gigantic. She keeps her dark brown hair short, and has a long scar running over her face. Many assume that she always keeps herself perfectly shaven, but of course she, being a woman, is completely incapable of growing facial hair. She is strongly-built and tends to wear simple clothes, preferably of a military cut.
Drusilla is short and thin because of her poor diet. Her pale skin is crisscrossed by her black veins. She has very long curly red hair which is intermixed with grey. She never cuts it, she doesn’t trust anyone near her with any kind of sharp implement. Whenever she leaves her rooms she wears a silver mask that only shows her bloodshot blue eyes, which has led to her being called the Silver Lady. She no longer is as dehydrated as she used to be, Ermenia has convinced her to drink some water from a small source that she keeps secret from everyone but her. She always wears fully concealing dresses with several layers, she has been cold ever since she first spoke to Achamani.
Ermenia is relatively tall, and next to Drusilla she almost seems gigantic. She keeps her dark brown hair short, and has a long scar running over her face. Many assume that she always keeps herself perfectly shaven, but of course she, being a woman, is completely incapable of growing facial hair. She is strongly-built and tends to wear simple clothes, preferably of a military cut.
When she wakes up Drusilla feels cold. It is still dark and she hears Ermenia gently snoring next to her. Her heart beats rapidly, there is something wrong. Then she hears it, there are sounds by the window. It’s soft but certainly there. She pushes Ermenia, hoping to wake her up. She whispers: “Erm, Erm, wake up!”, but it doesn’t work. She always is so hard to wake up. Then she hears it again. A ticking noise. She closes her eyes, whispering strange words: “Ashmanech thrabe’il manodad.” Then she sees again, but not from her eyes, her vision flies through the room, to the window. There she sees the vile assassin, a gull sits in front of it, just beyond the glass. It looks into the bedroom. As though it can see her watching it. Then she knows it, this is no normal gull, it isn’t even really a bird, it is a sorcerer who took the shape of the animal to safely approach her. Then she opens her eyes again, she is back in the bed, in her body. Ermenia has awakened, and has her arm around her, she whispers: “What’s wrong?”
“There is an assassin at the window, disguised as a bird.”
“Don’t worry”, Ermenia says as she quietly slips out of the bed, grabbing her sword on the way. Then there is the sound of broken glass and a sound Drusilla doesn’t recognize, certain proof that there was something with the bird. Ermenie looks at her work for a few moments before she returns to Drusilla, putting her sword back by the side of the bed. “It’s dead.”
“It was a sorcerer, he could see me when I was watching. He looked right at me, only sorcerers can do that.”
“At least he is dead, and won’t try to do anything to you again.”
“Unless the sorcerer was merely looking through the eyes of the bird, to prepare his attack, or there was a whole coven of them scheming against us. Yes, that has to be it. They won’t act alone against me, there will be others as well.”
“O Dru, don’t worry, I will keep you safe, and they don’t know anything yet, he didn’t have the chance to report back. And that bird certainly was no normal bird, it had to be the sorcerer, the beak was curved upwards, and normal gulls don’t look like that.”
“But there might be more. They will come again, and now there is a hole in the window for them to go through.”
“They will come again, yes, but not if we hunt them down first. The sun is almost rising, we’ll instruct the guards to kill all the gulls they see. Meanwhile we will ask all of our prisoners what they know, some might be involved in that plot as well, and they will be made to talk. And then we will find these sorcerers”, her voice becomes softer and Ermenia sounds dangerous, “and they will suffer, o yes, I will make them suffer so much for trying to hurt you.”
A slight smile breaks Drusilla’s thin lips: “I love it when you are so protective, but you have to be careful. I need you, I don’t know what I would do without you, you make me feel so good and safe.”
“There is an assassin at the window, disguised as a bird.”
“Don’t worry”, Ermenia says as she quietly slips out of the bed, grabbing her sword on the way. Then there is the sound of broken glass and a sound Drusilla doesn’t recognize, certain proof that there was something with the bird. Ermenie looks at her work for a few moments before she returns to Drusilla, putting her sword back by the side of the bed. “It’s dead.”
“It was a sorcerer, he could see me when I was watching. He looked right at me, only sorcerers can do that.”
“At least he is dead, and won’t try to do anything to you again.”
“Unless the sorcerer was merely looking through the eyes of the bird, to prepare his attack, or there was a whole coven of them scheming against us. Yes, that has to be it. They won’t act alone against me, there will be others as well.”
“O Dru, don’t worry, I will keep you safe, and they don’t know anything yet, he didn’t have the chance to report back. And that bird certainly was no normal bird, it had to be the sorcerer, the beak was curved upwards, and normal gulls don’t look like that.”
“But there might be more. They will come again, and now there is a hole in the window for them to go through.”
“They will come again, yes, but not if we hunt them down first. The sun is almost rising, we’ll instruct the guards to kill all the gulls they see. Meanwhile we will ask all of our prisoners what they know, some might be involved in that plot as well, and they will be made to talk. And then we will find these sorcerers”, her voice becomes softer and Ermenia sounds dangerous, “and they will suffer, o yes, I will make them suffer so much for trying to hurt you.”
A slight smile breaks Drusilla’s thin lips: “I love it when you are so protective, but you have to be careful. I need you, I don’t know what I would do without you, you make me feel so good and safe.”
Drusilla sits on her solid marble throne, once there were cushions on it but she has come to realize that it would be too easy to place poisoned bins in them. Luckily she was the first to get that idea, but she certainly wouldn’t be the last. She doesn’t like being this exposed but at least people keep their distance. She briefly looks to her right. One step down from her sits Ermenia, dressed as a lord should with a sword at her side. Even though her consort is placed a step lower their faces are almost at equal height.
In front of her a young woman kneels, she looks frightened, Drusilla likes that, but then she remembers that an assassin could also be afraid of the moment that she has to act. She knows that everyone is searched before they may enter, or at least commoners are, she can’t insult nobles like that, but maybe she has bribed the guards or found another way to smuggle in a weapon. The mail woven into her thick and heavy clothes would stop most thrown weapons, but she could come running at her, or maybe she even has a small but powerful crossbow on her person. Or she could even be one of the unknown sorcerers who want her dead, any gesture or strange word could indicate spellcraft.
Whatever her intentions are, she starts speaking: “My lady marchioness, I am but a humble farmer, sworn to your lands, but I come to beg for justice. Two days ago a group of men came to my farm, they were masked and armed. They demanded that I would hand over the produce that we had harvested from the fields entrusted to our care. When my husband Ianus refused they killed him and abused me while burning our farm to the ground. They said that I should be glad that they didn’t kill me for not following their demands. They even took my little Iunius. So please, my lady, forgive me for not being capable of meeting your just demands this year, and I beg of you, grant me your justice.”
When the woman is finished speaking tears start to flow from her eyes, she could easily have killed her husband herself, and the bruises could be inflicted by her fellow rebels. But one thing is certain, there are rebels, and they have enough strength to require such amounts of food. Ermenia then leans towards her and whispers: “She seems sincere to me, and even if she isn’t we can use her, and we can show these rebels as utterly depraved. Allow me to hunt them down.”
Drusilla speaks out loud: “You will have justice, I am outraged by these vile crimes and my forces will show the meaning of justice to every last one of them. Horatius Galbaris will lead this punitive expedition. Prisoners will be interrogated and those who are guilty of rebellion will be properly punished. You will be permitted to stay in the guesthouse in the city.”
Later that they when they are alone Ermenia says: “Why didn’t you let me command that expedition, Galbaris is a fool and we can’t trust him”
“I know that, but you are the only one I can actually trust. I don’t trust that peasant and I think that it is a ploy to lure you away from me. So she dies tonight. In the field they can more easily attack you, or they could come at me while I am alone. I just can’t miss you, Erm, and you have to be more careful, we have many enemies, they want my power, they want my wealth. But they also hate me, people always hate those who are better than them and we are better. Only fear keeps them in their place, and that means that we can never show any hint of weakness. Every opposition has to be exterminated along with everything they hold dear. That discourages further treason, or at least until they see another opportunity. If you leave the serpents will see an opportunity to strike, and I only want to do such things when we have properly planned for it.”
“Sweetie, you are so clever, that has to be why no one has ever managed to hurt us. You just are so much more intelligent than all these plotters, you always see through their schemes. But I want to ride through the fields again, where it is clear who my friends and who my enemies are.”
Drusilla puts her thin arm around Ermenia: “That day will come, and when it comes to true war you are the only one who can lead the army without taking them against us. I fear that that day is coming closer and closer, there are whispers of war and great revolts.”
In front of her a young woman kneels, she looks frightened, Drusilla likes that, but then she remembers that an assassin could also be afraid of the moment that she has to act. She knows that everyone is searched before they may enter, or at least commoners are, she can’t insult nobles like that, but maybe she has bribed the guards or found another way to smuggle in a weapon. The mail woven into her thick and heavy clothes would stop most thrown weapons, but she could come running at her, or maybe she even has a small but powerful crossbow on her person. Or she could even be one of the unknown sorcerers who want her dead, any gesture or strange word could indicate spellcraft.
Whatever her intentions are, she starts speaking: “My lady marchioness, I am but a humble farmer, sworn to your lands, but I come to beg for justice. Two days ago a group of men came to my farm, they were masked and armed. They demanded that I would hand over the produce that we had harvested from the fields entrusted to our care. When my husband Ianus refused they killed him and abused me while burning our farm to the ground. They said that I should be glad that they didn’t kill me for not following their demands. They even took my little Iunius. So please, my lady, forgive me for not being capable of meeting your just demands this year, and I beg of you, grant me your justice.”
When the woman is finished speaking tears start to flow from her eyes, she could easily have killed her husband herself, and the bruises could be inflicted by her fellow rebels. But one thing is certain, there are rebels, and they have enough strength to require such amounts of food. Ermenia then leans towards her and whispers: “She seems sincere to me, and even if she isn’t we can use her, and we can show these rebels as utterly depraved. Allow me to hunt them down.”
Drusilla speaks out loud: “You will have justice, I am outraged by these vile crimes and my forces will show the meaning of justice to every last one of them. Horatius Galbaris will lead this punitive expedition. Prisoners will be interrogated and those who are guilty of rebellion will be properly punished. You will be permitted to stay in the guesthouse in the city.”
Later that they when they are alone Ermenia says: “Why didn’t you let me command that expedition, Galbaris is a fool and we can’t trust him”
“I know that, but you are the only one I can actually trust. I don’t trust that peasant and I think that it is a ploy to lure you away from me. So she dies tonight. In the field they can more easily attack you, or they could come at me while I am alone. I just can’t miss you, Erm, and you have to be more careful, we have many enemies, they want my power, they want my wealth. But they also hate me, people always hate those who are better than them and we are better. Only fear keeps them in their place, and that means that we can never show any hint of weakness. Every opposition has to be exterminated along with everything they hold dear. That discourages further treason, or at least until they see another opportunity. If you leave the serpents will see an opportunity to strike, and I only want to do such things when we have properly planned for it.”
“Sweetie, you are so clever, that has to be why no one has ever managed to hurt us. You just are so much more intelligent than all these plotters, you always see through their schemes. But I want to ride through the fields again, where it is clear who my friends and who my enemies are.”
Drusilla puts her thin arm around Ermenia: “That day will come, and when it comes to true war you are the only one who can lead the army without taking them against us. I fear that that day is coming closer and closer, there are whispers of war and great revolts.”
Drusilla looks at her hands, they are thin and pale, with black veins running through them. She dresses herself, she trusts no one to do that for her, she would be vulnerable then, and if she is vulnerable a maid could easily place a dagger in her back. She feels tense, she knows that something is wrong somewhere but she can’t place it. She considers telling the knight that she isn’t interested in talking today, but for some reason she doesn’t want to. It feels alarming, normally she wouldn’t think twice about doing so, but then again, it already is strange that she agreed to a purely social meeting, she hasn’t done such a thing for years, not since her cousin Gaius tried to murder her at such an event.
When she places her silver mask she finds herself wondering what the knight would think about her face, if the warrior would be shocked by what was done to it. Obviously those spells had been placed in that book to bring her low, but luckily the assassins had underestimated her powers. The knight is driving her crazy and Drusilla briefly considers poisoning him, it would be easy, for some reason most people don’t worry about such an obvious danger, and most of the time they even believe in things like sudden illness, but Drusilla knows better, there is no such thing as normal illness, it always is either poison or magic.
Finally she puts her white gloves on, hiding the last part of her dry skin. She looks at herself in the mirror, and everything looks as it should. She leaves her rooms, there are soldiers at a distance from the door, no one is allowed to come too close to it, Drusilla doesn’t like people close to her, they make her uncomfortable. As she passes through the corridor the servants press themselves to the wall, fearing her ladyship’s attention. She enters her father’s old study, she hasn’t been there in years but it seemed like a good place for such a meeting. Everything in there is the same as it used to be. There is a large painting of her mother, her brothers and herself, at which she looks while she sits down in her father’s favourite chair. She recalls how things were, she was so stupid then, never understanding that there were all those dangers. She thinks about the games she played, running through the courtyard trying to catch and not be caught, enjoying the sun and splashing in the pool that had been dug for them to celebrate the summer. For a brief moment she smiles. Then it fades again. The memory is a deception. While she played in ignorance plots were hatched and treasons planned. That will not happen again. Now she sees the painting differently, it is a danger, a weakness and it has to go, she will have it burned.
Then she hears footsteps on the marble floor. She turns to face the entrance and the knight enters. Two soldiers take position by the door and the smiling mercenary bows to her: “My lady, Ermenius Castor at your service.”
She looks at her guest during the bow, and feels nervous in a strange way. Not like she is going to be killed, but for some reason she doesn’t know what to say. She forces herself to speak: “Please, please take a seat.”
“Thank you my lady, I am really grateful that you would receive a lowly sellsword like me.”
“The pleasure is all mine, after all, you don’t get to speak to someone who has seen as much of the world as you have.”, a thought runs through her head: Let alone someone who looks like that, but she dismisses it.
“Not that much, there are those who have seen far more than I have, although I won’t complain, it is a great honour to speak to someone as famous for her prudence and wisdom as you.”
The two talk about distant places and all sorts of other things and Drusilla is absorbed in the conversation when the knight suddenly rises. Drusilla nearly falls from her seat when this happens. She sees her guest, or assassin, punch one of the guards and take his sword before gutting the second. The guards who were supposed to be outside burst through the door at the same time, all with weapons drawn. Why aren’t they surprised, and how can they be here already. Now she understands, they come to kill her. Another falls but her sole protector is forced backwards by the press of men. She stretches her hand and starts to mutter: “Lamal ashai thramegh”, but more words are required. Two more assailants fall but then the knight cries out with a high-pitched voice and falls to the ground. The murderers approach: “This is for Dyonisius!” one shouts as he lifts his blade to strike, but he never does so, he falls to the ground, crying out in pain as a sword’s tip emerges from his abdomen. There is a desperate struggle on the ground, it is certain that the knight won’t last much longer.
But he doesn’t have to, Drusilla speaks the last of the words of power and black tendrils emerge from her hands, they slither through the air until they reach her enemies. They worm their way through their armour, clothes and skin before piercing into their bloodstream, causing the blood to coagulate in their bodies. They scream and know that they are dying. One tries to raise his hand in a final act of defiance, but he lacks the strength to do so. Then there is silence, and no more movement.
There still is some movement, in between the dead there is one who still lives, barely. Drusilla approaches the fallen knight and kneels, looking into fierce eyes. She says: “I, I thank you, Ermenius Castor, I wish that I could repay you.”
“Please, I have only one desire.”
“What is it? You will have it.”
“Let me, let me see your face before I die.”
Drusilla swallows but does as she is asked, she pulls off her cowl and undoes the bindings. One hand now holds the polished silver in its place, she hesitates, but then she slowly moves it aside. She expects shock but instead there is a smile: “You are beautiful, truly a face worth dying to see.”
“But you will not die Ermenius, I forbid it.”
“Ermenia, my name is Ermenia.”
When she places her silver mask she finds herself wondering what the knight would think about her face, if the warrior would be shocked by what was done to it. Obviously those spells had been placed in that book to bring her low, but luckily the assassins had underestimated her powers. The knight is driving her crazy and Drusilla briefly considers poisoning him, it would be easy, for some reason most people don’t worry about such an obvious danger, and most of the time they even believe in things like sudden illness, but Drusilla knows better, there is no such thing as normal illness, it always is either poison or magic.
Finally she puts her white gloves on, hiding the last part of her dry skin. She looks at herself in the mirror, and everything looks as it should. She leaves her rooms, there are soldiers at a distance from the door, no one is allowed to come too close to it, Drusilla doesn’t like people close to her, they make her uncomfortable. As she passes through the corridor the servants press themselves to the wall, fearing her ladyship’s attention. She enters her father’s old study, she hasn’t been there in years but it seemed like a good place for such a meeting. Everything in there is the same as it used to be. There is a large painting of her mother, her brothers and herself, at which she looks while she sits down in her father’s favourite chair. She recalls how things were, she was so stupid then, never understanding that there were all those dangers. She thinks about the games she played, running through the courtyard trying to catch and not be caught, enjoying the sun and splashing in the pool that had been dug for them to celebrate the summer. For a brief moment she smiles. Then it fades again. The memory is a deception. While she played in ignorance plots were hatched and treasons planned. That will not happen again. Now she sees the painting differently, it is a danger, a weakness and it has to go, she will have it burned.
Then she hears footsteps on the marble floor. She turns to face the entrance and the knight enters. Two soldiers take position by the door and the smiling mercenary bows to her: “My lady, Ermenius Castor at your service.”
She looks at her guest during the bow, and feels nervous in a strange way. Not like she is going to be killed, but for some reason she doesn’t know what to say. She forces herself to speak: “Please, please take a seat.”
“Thank you my lady, I am really grateful that you would receive a lowly sellsword like me.”
“The pleasure is all mine, after all, you don’t get to speak to someone who has seen as much of the world as you have.”, a thought runs through her head: Let alone someone who looks like that, but she dismisses it.
“Not that much, there are those who have seen far more than I have, although I won’t complain, it is a great honour to speak to someone as famous for her prudence and wisdom as you.”
The two talk about distant places and all sorts of other things and Drusilla is absorbed in the conversation when the knight suddenly rises. Drusilla nearly falls from her seat when this happens. She sees her guest, or assassin, punch one of the guards and take his sword before gutting the second. The guards who were supposed to be outside burst through the door at the same time, all with weapons drawn. Why aren’t they surprised, and how can they be here already. Now she understands, they come to kill her. Another falls but her sole protector is forced backwards by the press of men. She stretches her hand and starts to mutter: “Lamal ashai thramegh”, but more words are required. Two more assailants fall but then the knight cries out with a high-pitched voice and falls to the ground. The murderers approach: “This is for Dyonisius!” one shouts as he lifts his blade to strike, but he never does so, he falls to the ground, crying out in pain as a sword’s tip emerges from his abdomen. There is a desperate struggle on the ground, it is certain that the knight won’t last much longer.
But he doesn’t have to, Drusilla speaks the last of the words of power and black tendrils emerge from her hands, they slither through the air until they reach her enemies. They worm their way through their armour, clothes and skin before piercing into their bloodstream, causing the blood to coagulate in their bodies. They scream and know that they are dying. One tries to raise his hand in a final act of defiance, but he lacks the strength to do so. Then there is silence, and no more movement.
There still is some movement, in between the dead there is one who still lives, barely. Drusilla approaches the fallen knight and kneels, looking into fierce eyes. She says: “I, I thank you, Ermenius Castor, I wish that I could repay you.”
“Please, I have only one desire.”
“What is it? You will have it.”
“Let me, let me see your face before I die.”
Drusilla swallows but does as she is asked, she pulls off her cowl and undoes the bindings. One hand now holds the polished silver in its place, she hesitates, but then she slowly moves it aside. She expects shock but instead there is a smile: “You are beautiful, truly a face worth dying to see.”
“But you will not die Ermenius, I forbid it.”
“Ermenia, my name is Ermenia.”
Hannah Moritz, or Nightshade, is a girl with telepathic abilities. She however doesn’t know that, and her surroundings certainly don’t. Instead, they think that she is insane, which she also is, if only because she can’t shut anything out. She would probably be a bit of a villain, she isn’t entirely sane and holds a deep hatred for most people.
A little black-haired girl sits in the back of a car, she’s no older than six and is rather skinny. She wears jeans and a blue T-shirt with Elmo on it. But there is something wrong with her, she looks as though she hasn’t slept for days, and she is crying. But that isn’t everything, she is shivering in the arms of a man that obviously is her father. He is heavy-set, and looks like his daughter, also showing a lack of sleep. In front of them the family’s mother is driving.
The man whispers to the child: “Hannah, I want you to know that we love you, just as much as we love your brothers.”
She seems to grasp that something is going to happen, something that she won’t like: “Why did they say goodbye? Where are we going?”
“A safe place, where they can help you. You are ill, Hannah, and we are bringing you to doctors who can help you”
More tears flow over the girl’s cheeks: “But, I want to stay with you, and mommy, and David, and Jacob. I don’t want to go to the doctors, they’re mean.”
“There is no other way, you need help. As soon as you’re better you will come back home, I promise.”
“Please, please, turn around, I don’t want to go. There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“There is, you know that, you said so yourself just before you left. You told me about school again, that you couldn’t bear it anymore, all the voices shouting in your head, all the images, while the classroom was quiet. You need help, and only these good doctors can be of any help to you now.”
“Can’t I just stay at home? I won’t shout, I won’t hurt anyone. Really. Just let me stay, please?”, she sounds desperate while the car stops on a boat.
Her mother turns around: “Hannah, just listen to us ok? We do this for you, so please, don’t make it any harder for us. We love you, you’re my little flower, but you need help, help that you can only get at St. Dymphna’s. We’re not saying that you are bad, you’re just ill, ill in your head.”
The man whispers to the child: “Hannah, I want you to know that we love you, just as much as we love your brothers.”
She seems to grasp that something is going to happen, something that she won’t like: “Why did they say goodbye? Where are we going?”
“A safe place, where they can help you. You are ill, Hannah, and we are bringing you to doctors who can help you”
More tears flow over the girl’s cheeks: “But, I want to stay with you, and mommy, and David, and Jacob. I don’t want to go to the doctors, they’re mean.”
“There is no other way, you need help. As soon as you’re better you will come back home, I promise.”
“Please, please, turn around, I don’t want to go. There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“There is, you know that, you said so yourself just before you left. You told me about school again, that you couldn’t bear it anymore, all the voices shouting in your head, all the images, while the classroom was quiet. You need help, and only these good doctors can be of any help to you now.”
“Can’t I just stay at home? I won’t shout, I won’t hurt anyone. Really. Just let me stay, please?”, she sounds desperate while the car stops on a boat.
Her mother turns around: “Hannah, just listen to us ok? We do this for you, so please, don’t make it any harder for us. We love you, you’re my little flower, but you need help, help that you can only get at St. Dymphna’s. We’re not saying that you are bad, you’re just ill, ill in your head.”
"Yes, Nightshade, that's me. I decided to use that name, and not the one that I was given as a child by parents who never loved me. Oh yes they said that they did, but who would send their child to this place? Calling her crazy and dangerous. I never wanted to be here, doctor, with all your medications, your talking and your devices.", the girl in the straight jacket whispers.
"But Hannah, "
"No! Don't call me that, that's not who I am, that is the name of the girl that never was. I am Nightshade!", the girl shouts in agitation. Her eyes become wider, this is important to her.
"Very well, Nightshade, but we try to help you here, to let you return to society.”, the woman behind the desk says. She sounds friendly, and makes for a complete contrast with the girl. The girl sits and is held firmly by bindings and a tall nurse. She is thin, hollow-eyed and agitated. She has wild black hair and except for the jacket she wears a simple nightshirt. The woman is plumb and has greying hair. She seems calm and collected, making notes of their conversation. “It is for your own good. Why did you choose Nightshade?”
Now the girl smiles: “Because I like the flowers, and what they say about them fits with how people see me. A name should fit to the common perception of the person. And it sounds dangerous, while nice. All of the parts are deadly, even the pretty ones. The berries look sweet and tasty, but if you try them, you die. And you don’t just die, no, you first become disconnected, seeing that which isn’t there, just like they say I do.”
The doctor makes more notes while the girl speaks. “And what do you see then, Ha, ehm, Nightshade?”
“I, ehm, I see things that are real, they are, but mostly I hear them. Yes, I hear that which isn’t in the same place. I know the truth, and they, they want to keep it hidden. It remains so unclear, I feel like I can almost reach it, but then it slips away again.”, a tear falls from her eye, and the girl sniffs.
“And who are they?”
“They, they are everyone, my parents, the nurses, the doctors, the government, the teachers. Everyone.”
“And why do they want to keep it hidden?”
“Because I could know everything, all their little secrets, all their desires and plans. And their fears. They are afraid of me, and that’s why they put me here.”, she raises her voice, as she becomes more agitated, she tries to lean towards the doctor, but the restraints keeps her in her place.
“And how do they stop you then?”
“By their medications, which, which you tell them to give me. You are one of them! You! You! You!”, the girl starts to struggle, shouting.
“This is useless, Betty, please give her 500 µl of her usual mixture.”, the woman sighs.
“No! no! Don’t do this to me! Don’t think that I cannot see it! I see it all!”, the restraints bite into her flesh, and the heavy chair starts to shake. “Let me go!”
The nurse places a syringe at the girl’s arm, injecting her with a clear substance. The girl remains struggling, but her movements become less and less violent. She tries to talk, but she can’t manage it, the words don’t make any sense anymore, and soon she falls into a deep sleep.
"But Hannah, "
"No! Don't call me that, that's not who I am, that is the name of the girl that never was. I am Nightshade!", the girl shouts in agitation. Her eyes become wider, this is important to her.
"Very well, Nightshade, but we try to help you here, to let you return to society.”, the woman behind the desk says. She sounds friendly, and makes for a complete contrast with the girl. The girl sits and is held firmly by bindings and a tall nurse. She is thin, hollow-eyed and agitated. She has wild black hair and except for the jacket she wears a simple nightshirt. The woman is plumb and has greying hair. She seems calm and collected, making notes of their conversation. “It is for your own good. Why did you choose Nightshade?”
Now the girl smiles: “Because I like the flowers, and what they say about them fits with how people see me. A name should fit to the common perception of the person. And it sounds dangerous, while nice. All of the parts are deadly, even the pretty ones. The berries look sweet and tasty, but if you try them, you die. And you don’t just die, no, you first become disconnected, seeing that which isn’t there, just like they say I do.”
The doctor makes more notes while the girl speaks. “And what do you see then, Ha, ehm, Nightshade?”
“I, ehm, I see things that are real, they are, but mostly I hear them. Yes, I hear that which isn’t in the same place. I know the truth, and they, they want to keep it hidden. It remains so unclear, I feel like I can almost reach it, but then it slips away again.”, a tear falls from her eye, and the girl sniffs.
“And who are they?”
“They, they are everyone, my parents, the nurses, the doctors, the government, the teachers. Everyone.”
“And why do they want to keep it hidden?”
“Because I could know everything, all their little secrets, all their desires and plans. And their fears. They are afraid of me, and that’s why they put me here.”, she raises her voice, as she becomes more agitated, she tries to lean towards the doctor, but the restraints keeps her in her place.
“And how do they stop you then?”
“By their medications, which, which you tell them to give me. You are one of them! You! You! You!”, the girl starts to struggle, shouting.
“This is useless, Betty, please give her 500 µl of her usual mixture.”, the woman sighs.
“No! no! Don’t do this to me! Don’t think that I cannot see it! I see it all!”, the restraints bite into her flesh, and the heavy chair starts to shake. “Let me go!”
The nurse places a syringe at the girl’s arm, injecting her with a clear substance. The girl remains struggling, but her movements become less and less violent. She tries to talk, but she can’t manage it, the words don’t make any sense anymore, and soon she falls into a deep sleep.
”Seventeen thousand four hundred and ninety-six”, whispers Hannah Moritz, who hates it when people use that name. She sits in a room. At least, officially it is a room, the actual characteristics of it have more in common with a cell. There are no windows, and the only light comes from a single bulb on the high ceiling. There is no furniture or decoration, only the thick white padding on the walls and floors. This is not where she normally stays, but for some reason she was moved here several weeks ago. She suspects that it is caused by the failure of her latest scheme to gain more freedom, the girl threatened to hit her head repeatedly, and would then accuse the staff. Unfortunately they simply threw her into this room. In retrospect it might not have been the best idea she ever had. At least she is alone, but she hears things, flards of voices and other sounds. She shouts at the top of her lungs: "Shut up!" but nothing happens.
“Seventeen thousand four hundred and ninety-seven.” They tell her that those sounds aren't there, that there is something wrong with her, that she is ill. But all that is a lie. A huge, terrible lie because they hate her. There must be more to what she hears, and they try to hide it. Yes, that must be it. From the ceiling she hears a voice: "Hannah, go to the corner."
The first time she was in such a room, years and years ago, the girl decided to resist. They had put her there because a boy had taken a toy, she doesn't remember what it was anymore, but she does know that she had almost succeeded in clawing out his eyes. Anyways, she just stayed in her place, sitting in front of the door. They told her repeatedly that she had to move, but she kept refusing. Eventually they gave up and Nightshade had won. But when she was asleep they seized her and put her in a straitjacket. She learned her lesson. She has to be nice, otherwise they will never let her out again. So she stands up and does what she is told. She stops her counting, she doesn't know what she was counting, but the endless succession of numbers helps her pass the time. She however has to remember where she was, last night she fell asleep and this morning she had to start over again.
Two nurses lead their patient to a bathroom, there are no sanitary facilities in the padded room. This is her first visit of the day, and afterwards she is given a short shower. The water is cold, and Nightshade drinks from the stream as it washes over her face, she is thirsty. After the shower she is fed, her arms tied behind a chair. They are careful while doing it, the girl has tried to bite people before. She never eats much, but today she eats even less as she starts to feel unwell.
She is brought back to her room, and the shouts in her head become louder and louder. They become clearer as well, far clearer than they normally are. But there are so many, it is hard to separate them. When she is alone again she has lost her count, but she keeps hearing voices. The walls don’t stop them. She shouts: “Shut up!”, but nothing happens.
She closes her eyes, and after a while starts to recognize some of the voices. They become clearer to her. There aren’t only voices now, she also sees, as though what a dozen people see overlap in front of her eyes. She starts to feel sick. She opens her eyes, but it doesn’t help, the images don’t go away. She no longer just hears voices, she hears other sounds as well, and she starts to taste things, to feel things, even in her empty hands.
She tries to force it all to stop, but nothing helps. She focuses. She takes one vision and watches it intently, with her eyes closed. It helps, it makes the others go to the background. And there are sounds belonging to it, feelings, sensations. She forces the vision to look down. It is a struggle, as though it doesn’t want to, but in the end it moves like she wants to. Beneath her she sees the body of an orderly. She feels her body as though it is her own. Someone says: “Hey, Anne, what are you looking at?”
The struggle returns, but she is stronger now, and turns the head to the side where the voice came from. She tries to speak, but it comes out garbled, the resistance is too strong. “Mwoithing”
“Are you all right?”, the voice asks.
Anne wants to call for help, but she is suppressed. She feels what is in the hands, a bottle and she leaps at the other orderly, striking her head with the hard glass. At the last moment Anne notices what she is about to do, and wrestles for control again, but it’s too late and the bottle connects with a sickening sound.
Nightshade opens her eyes again, all the images are still there but she has lost control. She can however hear screaming through her mind, and sees what she has done. She starts to giggle.
“Seventeen thousand four hundred and ninety-seven.” They tell her that those sounds aren't there, that there is something wrong with her, that she is ill. But all that is a lie. A huge, terrible lie because they hate her. There must be more to what she hears, and they try to hide it. Yes, that must be it. From the ceiling she hears a voice: "Hannah, go to the corner."
The first time she was in such a room, years and years ago, the girl decided to resist. They had put her there because a boy had taken a toy, she doesn't remember what it was anymore, but she does know that she had almost succeeded in clawing out his eyes. Anyways, she just stayed in her place, sitting in front of the door. They told her repeatedly that she had to move, but she kept refusing. Eventually they gave up and Nightshade had won. But when she was asleep they seized her and put her in a straitjacket. She learned her lesson. She has to be nice, otherwise they will never let her out again. So she stands up and does what she is told. She stops her counting, she doesn't know what she was counting, but the endless succession of numbers helps her pass the time. She however has to remember where she was, last night she fell asleep and this morning she had to start over again.
Two nurses lead their patient to a bathroom, there are no sanitary facilities in the padded room. This is her first visit of the day, and afterwards she is given a short shower. The water is cold, and Nightshade drinks from the stream as it washes over her face, she is thirsty. After the shower she is fed, her arms tied behind a chair. They are careful while doing it, the girl has tried to bite people before. She never eats much, but today she eats even less as she starts to feel unwell.
She is brought back to her room, and the shouts in her head become louder and louder. They become clearer as well, far clearer than they normally are. But there are so many, it is hard to separate them. When she is alone again she has lost her count, but she keeps hearing voices. The walls don’t stop them. She shouts: “Shut up!”, but nothing happens.
She closes her eyes, and after a while starts to recognize some of the voices. They become clearer to her. There aren’t only voices now, she also sees, as though what a dozen people see overlap in front of her eyes. She starts to feel sick. She opens her eyes, but it doesn’t help, the images don’t go away. She no longer just hears voices, she hears other sounds as well, and she starts to taste things, to feel things, even in her empty hands.
She tries to force it all to stop, but nothing helps. She focuses. She takes one vision and watches it intently, with her eyes closed. It helps, it makes the others go to the background. And there are sounds belonging to it, feelings, sensations. She forces the vision to look down. It is a struggle, as though it doesn’t want to, but in the end it moves like she wants to. Beneath her she sees the body of an orderly. She feels her body as though it is her own. Someone says: “Hey, Anne, what are you looking at?”
The struggle returns, but she is stronger now, and turns the head to the side where the voice came from. She tries to speak, but it comes out garbled, the resistance is too strong. “Mwoithing”
“Are you all right?”, the voice asks.
Anne wants to call for help, but she is suppressed. She feels what is in the hands, a bottle and she leaps at the other orderly, striking her head with the hard glass. At the last moment Anne notices what she is about to do, and wrestles for control again, but it’s too late and the bottle connects with a sickening sound.
Nightshade opens her eyes again, all the images are still there but she has lost control. She can however hear screaming through her mind, and sees what she has done. She starts to giggle.
This is a character that I developed over the course of a freeform game that lasted for almost a year. She was the favourite character that I ever got to play and I would love to use her again. Essentially she is a fabulously rich merchant princess, who just so happens to be a blind vampire. She is assisted by her girls, four servants who help her with all sorts of things, from not walking right into a doorpost to writing her correspondence. What really appealed to me in her was the combination of being a powerful creature along with having severe flaws.
Serdynage Hastur-Vartul, or Serdy to those few who might consider themselves to be her friends, is quite peculiar for one of the merchant princes of Bardocas. She was born as the second child of Bryseis Hastur and Fronol Vartul, whose marriage brought the two great families together. As a child she was considered to be stupid, she failed at even the simplest tasks such as smiling when someone made funny faces or reaching for things held above her. For some reason she did manage to learn to talk, which confused them even further. Finally one of the tutors hired for the children proposed a theory that could easily have seen him lose his job, that maybe the child couldn’t see.
Luckily for Serdynage he was proven to be correct and her lessons changed. She was given servants to read for her and she started to rapidly absorb knowledge. She grew up to be a learned young woman, and intended to keep away from public life, but things didn’t go as planned. Her brother Thonal was lost at sea and Serdy was forced into the public eye, especially once her parents died within a year of each other. Initially she was considered to be weak and an easy prey for her rivals. But she refuted any of these ideas by her hard work and deep understanding of her holdings. She employed several people to go through her books for her, independently of each other to prevent being cheated.
She had dozens of young girls brought to her from the poorhouse and interviewed each of them, selecting four of the most intelligent who also had other qualities that she required. She had them provided with a good education to become her most trusted servants. These girls were the only ones who were allowed to read her correspondence and knew most of the lady Hastur-Vartul’s secrets.
One night she met a most peculiar woman named Livilla and the two talked for hours. When Serdynage finally went to bed she was awakened by the strange woman’s touch. It was the last night that she spent alive. They had nightly meetings for months, and Serdy truly enjoyed the time together, but eventually things started to change. Livilla’s demands grew greater, she wanted to control Serdynage and her considerable wealth for her own ends. Of course the lady wouldn’t stand for this and she arranged for the vampire to be destroyed. She keeps her ashes in a jar next to her bed, as a token of her victory.
Serdynage Hastur-Vartul, or Serdy to those few who might consider themselves to be her friends, is quite peculiar for one of the merchant princes of Bardocas. She was born as the second child of Bryseis Hastur and Fronol Vartul, whose marriage brought the two great families together. As a child she was considered to be stupid, she failed at even the simplest tasks such as smiling when someone made funny faces or reaching for things held above her. For some reason she did manage to learn to talk, which confused them even further. Finally one of the tutors hired for the children proposed a theory that could easily have seen him lose his job, that maybe the child couldn’t see.
Luckily for Serdynage he was proven to be correct and her lessons changed. She was given servants to read for her and she started to rapidly absorb knowledge. She grew up to be a learned young woman, and intended to keep away from public life, but things didn’t go as planned. Her brother Thonal was lost at sea and Serdy was forced into the public eye, especially once her parents died within a year of each other. Initially she was considered to be weak and an easy prey for her rivals. But she refuted any of these ideas by her hard work and deep understanding of her holdings. She employed several people to go through her books for her, independently of each other to prevent being cheated.
She had dozens of young girls brought to her from the poorhouse and interviewed each of them, selecting four of the most intelligent who also had other qualities that she required. She had them provided with a good education to become her most trusted servants. These girls were the only ones who were allowed to read her correspondence and knew most of the lady Hastur-Vartul’s secrets.
One night she met a most peculiar woman named Livilla and the two talked for hours. When Serdynage finally went to bed she was awakened by the strange woman’s touch. It was the last night that she spent alive. They had nightly meetings for months, and Serdy truly enjoyed the time together, but eventually things started to change. Livilla’s demands grew greater, she wanted to control Serdynage and her considerable wealth for her own ends. Of course the lady wouldn’t stand for this and she arranged for the vampire to be destroyed. She keeps her ashes in a jar next to her bed, as a token of her victory.
Ophelia is the oldest of the four girls. She already was with Serdy when she died as her personal servant and even had a brief affair with her lady. She is the child of household servants of the Hastur family. She was thirty-three when she died and was the first to be turned. She is level-headed but has a very strong sense of what is and what isn't proper to come out to the public. She enjoys reading stories of great journeys, although she has been getting more and more cynical about them. She has had several lovers, but could never maintain her interest in a girl for longer than a few months.
Yildiz used to be a big eater with a love for paintings. She came into Serdy's service just after the lady died, chosen from the kitchen staff for her intelligence. She is quite heavy, but is surprisingly friendly, especially with Lucinda. Since she died at twenty-four she has retained her appetite, she tends to drink more than everyone else, and almost always gets the victims last, she never leaves a drop of blood.
Lucinda is a bit tomboy-ish and was taken from an orphanage to serve Serdynage. She was nineteen when she died. She enjoys more masculine pursuits like riding, shooting, nightly hunts at country estates. She also is the least polite of the four, her language sometimes even becomes a little rude in public. She forms a couple with Yildiz, although the two have quite different characters.
Xanthe is the youngest of the girls, chosen to replace one of Serdy's original servants who dies in an accident. Xanthe was a street urchin and was chosen when she was only six, to be properly educated to help Serdy. She asked to not be turned yet after the other three, she wanted to be fully grown before it happened. She looks down on other people and tends towards needless cruelty.
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The death of an Emperator (intrigue/nation/diplomacy roleplay)
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7 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
I wouldn't know why people aren't interested. It looks very interesting to me, and if you would still want to run it, I would certainly make a character to join in.
Hi,
I guess that it would be polite to start with a short introduction about myself. I am Dutch, but I have been living abroad for these last few years, in order to work on my PhD. I have quite a hectic life, but I like to try to make some time for things like roleplaying and writing. I started roleplaying like so many others, by secretly playing certain games. Later on, I discovered that I found rules and the like a bit restricting, as I enjoy having the freedom to design a character with all the flaws and strengths, and not one strictly bound to specific rules. So, over the years, I have started to tend more towards rules-light roleplaying, and of course, writing. Currently, I am mostly working on a story set in Ptolemaic Egypt, but I guess that it's not that relevant for this topic.
My topics of interest are quite variable. I enjoy both modern and historical settings, with varying amounts of fantasy thrown in. I like to think that I can also put some variety in my characters, although there are a few traits that they have in common. First of all, they're always women, and secondly, if it comes up, they are lesbians like me. I tried writing other things, but found it much more difficult, and even a little uncomfortable. And we are doing this to relax after all.
I don't really know what else to add, but if you have any questions, I will gladly answer them.
I guess that it would be polite to start with a short introduction about myself. I am Dutch, but I have been living abroad for these last few years, in order to work on my PhD. I have quite a hectic life, but I like to try to make some time for things like roleplaying and writing. I started roleplaying like so many others, by secretly playing certain games. Later on, I discovered that I found rules and the like a bit restricting, as I enjoy having the freedom to design a character with all the flaws and strengths, and not one strictly bound to specific rules. So, over the years, I have started to tend more towards rules-light roleplaying, and of course, writing. Currently, I am mostly working on a story set in Ptolemaic Egypt, but I guess that it's not that relevant for this topic.
My topics of interest are quite variable. I enjoy both modern and historical settings, with varying amounts of fantasy thrown in. I like to think that I can also put some variety in my characters, although there are a few traits that they have in common. First of all, they're always women, and secondly, if it comes up, they are lesbians like me. I tried writing other things, but found it much more difficult, and even a little uncomfortable. And we are doing this to relax after all.
I don't really know what else to add, but if you have any questions, I will gladly answer them.
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