The Queen's Madness (Open)

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"

"It is hard to believe at first, until you spend a fraction


of your life with him waddling around. It was the same
​

when I saw how many dragons dwelled in the North. Eventually,


they were as normal as a sparrow or raven...", Joran would murmur as
​

he looked around the Dining Hall. He could never sit still when it

​

came to staying in one place. His natural paranoia from years of combat


and travelling the the most dangerous of locations around this world


often forced him to peer at every person and thing that he could see;


To analyze it, isolate it, before moving on and remembering exactly


where it was and how it could be used against or for him.
​

In his quiet state, his mind began to wander. He thought of Camelot.
​

More specifically, Whytewynd, and how House Sinclair was doing. If he


were lucky, the conquest between Lord Gregor and the Sinclairs would continue


to last past this state of angst in Lathien, most likely to last a few months


or even an entire year. However, if he were unlucky, which seemed much more


realistic, House Sinclair would be decimated in a matter of a few weeks to a


handful of fortnights. Joran could abandon the Queen's Guard and ride north, but


Asavar would definitely not take kindly to it. If he rode now, he had a good chance


of intervening. However, if he stuck to his duty and vows, the chances of House


Sinclair's survival and his vengeance would only wither in time...
​

Sighing, the knight snapped back to reality. In his head, an eternity of thought
​

had gone on. In reality, the mental wanderlust had only lasted a dozen seconds.

​

Stronham eyed Aurora, wondering if she could do anything to help him, as she
​

gobbled down the warm bread and gazed curiously at the other untouched pieces to her meal


with an insatiable and primal look of hunger and awe. It was truly amusing, and


relieving, to observe. Watching those riddled with misfortunate histories and social


standings get something nice gave Joran a sense of hope. However, he knew that


the Wolf that stirred within him would tear them apart if it gave him even the


slightest advantage to ending Gregor Whytewynd and restoring the glory of House Stronham...
​

@xEmoBunnehx
​

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

While Joran was day dreaming, Aura not only absorbed his words but also this food. She wasted nothing, not even a crumb. Every bite was like a piece of heaven; the flavors..ohhh the flavors how the danced within her mouth, beckoning her for more and more until finally..the woman had quite literally cleaned her plate. It was actually quite shocking she could even eat so much due to how little she'd eaten on the way to get..wherever she was. So, since the food was gone, Aura now looked to Joran, her face even clean of any food (which is surprising for how fast she ate it.).


"Call it a woman's intuition, but I feel like you're uneasy right now." She said before swinging her leg over the bench and faced him her hands resting idly on the bench. "Let me put you at ease..yes?" She offered softly, hoping she could help Joran with his problem..or at least sate his ever stirring mind. If it weren't for the fact that Aura knew she was going to read his future, one might assume by the way she was sitting and how the offer sounded..she might be going to bed the knight rather than give him a reading.

@KillThemAll


((Sorry it's so short love~))[/border][border][/border]​

[border][/border]

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"

The worn knight would blush as Aurora shifted herself


around the bench, wondering if she knew just how... devious


she was making herself appear. Ser Stronham could already


hear the rumors of he and his soon-to-be apprentice bedding


one another. He was sure he could put them down, but it would


be troublesome...


Joran sighed as he figured that she was referring to the Vision.


However, he wasn't quite... awake yet. Truly, he was still partly


asleep. The last day had left him unreasonably exhausted.


"Later," the Queen's Guard insisted, moving to place his right hand


on Aura's left thigh, pulling at it to swing it back over the stone bench.


A few servants in the distance giggled as they watched the two interact,


whispering to one female noble who laughed quaintly as she tugged at her


glistening white dress. As Joran had suspected, people had seen, and


were already quick to talk...


Joran leaned in towards Aurora, dangerously close as his breath lightly


touched her scarred face. He'd tilt his head slightly and opened his mouth


to speak.


"It looked like you were courting me," he'd murmur closely, informing


her of her blunder.




@xEmoBunnehx
​

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gareth woke up the next day, and figured he'd make an impression on his interviewers. Perhaps they didn't believe he was capable of everything he said he was able to do. Or perhaps he didn't look the part. Which was preposterous considering he carried his massive claymore around with him, a weapon that took more skill to use then most would expect. It's weight alone made it cumbersome to most people, and those that could swing it used it more like a blunt weapon then the blade it really was. Perhaps that's what they thought he did with his claymore, swing it around and crush his way through his opponents. Bah, if he wanted to do that there were much better weapons for the job.


Either way, he came clanking down the stairs. His armor, once a symbol of his dedication to the Queen but now only armor, shone brilliantly in the light. All marks of the Queen's Guard had been polished and sanded away, not an easy task to do without also ruining the armor. But it had been done, and he still wore it when he needed to. Such as when he needed to show his employers that they did not have to supply him with everything.

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura only sighed when Joran turned her around back to the original way she had been sitting. He wanted to do it later? He seemed so eager last night..or maybe she had dreamed that up? Idly she wondered what else she might of dreamed up. Did she dream up that sweet little servant boy Caelyn? Surely not..he was absolutely adorable and if she would of dreamed him up..then she would of seen him. Probably.


It wasn't long after Joran turned her around that the whispers began, and from the sounds of it..they weren't quiet about it. Aura could hear almost every word from their mouths. One had insinuated that she was courting him, the other saying she was nothing more than a common hussy. That last comment..Aura balled a fist. She didn't know the laws here, but she was sure that hitting a woman was not..allowed by any degree and she'd surely be thrown from the castle..something she didn't want.


When Joran leaned in to tell her it looked as though she'd been courting him, she let out a huff. "So what if I would of been? Is courting really that big of a deal here? Or is that people have no good sense to keep to themselves and their boring lives that they must snoop and talk of other's lives?" She asked him, rather loud as well on the last question, for the purpose of shaming them and their nonsense jabber of Joran and Aura's intentions for one another. Aura could careless what was said about her, as she wouldn't be here long enough for it to matter..but Joan on the other hand..he was bound to stay here longer and have to deal with whatever nonsense would be caused by Aura. In all honesty, she hadn't even meant to look like that, nor did she have any purposeful intentions of courting anyone while she was here if she could help it! If rumor got too far, Aura would be in big trouble, and if all this place did was make them..then this was a bad location to stay at for a month.

@KillThemAll[/border][border][/border]​

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[Veyd Sahvoz]

Erikur Cetrix

"Thank you sir. While I'm here may I order a mug of mead?" He asked, glancing over at Allan. He hoped the man had some spell tome's he could look through, he had been evading studying since he arrived which was why he was so keen on finding a library so he could read some. Knowledge was power after all and when you applied that to mages' the oldest ones with the most knowledge had the most power usually due to more experience. Perhaps he would be like his own Master and wander the lands searching for every book of arcane knowledge, even though such a thing was impossible it didn't hurt to try. He pulled out an amulet from his pocket and briefly inspected the runes on it as he took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter, the same amulet used for blood magic. He considered trying to learn such magics but that didn't go so well in the past...


@ianbabyyy

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"

Joran couldn't help but smile at Aurora's agitated display of


anger towards the conniving gossipers in the Hall, whom took


on looks of shock and quickly grew quiet. Often, the spreading


of rumors was never openly confronted. Disputes were settled


quietly, and often anonymously. Lady Aura had just changed the


system, and it greatly impressed and frightened many in the Hall.


"The Vision comes later. Finish eating, and we can start training,"


Joran insisted, eyeing the distraught culprits as they departed from


the Dining Hall. He was sure they wouldn't be a problem. After all,


he didn't plan on staying in Draede, or Lathien, for much longer...

(Shooort)

@xEmoBunnehx
​

 

[KillThemAll]

Quinn


Lathien's Royal Spymaster


"The Smoke Seer"

Quinn sighed as he pushed through the tall grasses that laid along


the murky patches of land. The dirt beneath him sunk with each weighted


step, the inanimate monster attempted to swallow the Spymaster's leg as


he continued his journey through the foggy area. The mist in the area


was thick, concealing the deep holes and dark green waters. Through the mist,


the shadowy figures of massive, vine-covered trees would mess with Quinn's head.


He had taken a rather heavy and luxurious dose of opium earlier that morning,


and his recovering mind often mistook the distant trees as bog monsters or


packs of roaming Histyr looking for easy prey...


Behind him, a few dozen Lathien soldiers marched with stony discipline.


Quinn had been sent to investigate the conflict between House Whytewynd


and House Sinclair in-order to learn if Lathien was in any danger.


While he could use teleportation magic to transport himself near the


city-state of Whytewynd, he would need to establish a base somewhere


outside of the foreign country for his troops along the border. If he needed


help, he wanted to receive it quickly, without disrupting the patrols already


set up along the Whytewynd-Lathien border. With quick thought, the Spymaster


had chosen the Great Swamps along the border as an ideal location for


their camp. While various monstrosities lurked in the Swamps, a few dead


men outweighed thousands slain in the war that would erupt if he had


simply marched the Lathien men into Whytewynd land...
​

 

[KillThemAll]

Siara Whytewynd


Travelling Doctor


"The Scarred"




Siara sighed as she tugged at an empty mug of ale. She had


spent some time in the Queen's Madness tavern following her


treatment of even more citizens in need within the slums outside


of Draede. A long day of work had left her sore and hungry, but


she lacked coin after giving most of it away to the unfortunate.


The half-elf doctor was also bruised, a purple mark left on her


right cheek after she had managed to free three Elven slaves


from a trader who was travelling about in the outer villages.


He hailed from the Imperial Isles. Dark of skin and large, the foreigner


garnered much attention. He also garnered much business, though,


especially from the nobles of Lathien who were often a power-hungry


sort. The slave-trader obviously didn't take too well to losing


his valuable trio, his rage blemishing Siara's face, albeit temporarily...


She had yet to see any major outspurts of violence due to tension


between Lathien's civilians and their Queen. There were a few


arrests and fights, surely, but nothing close to a skirmish or chaotic


riot. It relieved the woman, but also worried her. If they hadn't yet


let out their tensions, the end result could only be worse. A volcano,


filled to the brim with magma, only waiting to erupt.

​

 

[KillThemAll]

Virah Alarasto


Marsha of House Freya


"Vi"


The young woman smiled as she rocked in the oaken chair


beneath her, cradling the youngest of House Freya's noble


children in her arms as she mumbled a lullaby. The young toddler


boy was fast asleep, wrapped in a scarlet silk blanket with House Freya's


iconic sparrow embroidered into it with purple-dyed string, a sign of


wealth and prosperity. Virah was lucky enough to be noticed by


the lovely Lady Freya, Elana Kinge, who had taken the young


cook's daughter in as a handmaiden and Marsha to her children. Now,


she was the young ones' caretaker, watching over the young


Lords and Ladies within House Freya's Keep, the Jade Keep.


It was a beauty to behold, the impressive castle colored green due


to its copper build's aging throughout the centuries it had withstood.


Vi would continue her lovely song before the quiet nature of the


sixth-born son's room was suddenly disrupted by the swinging of


the bedroom door. The wooden portal swung absently as a familiar


face greeted Virah's.


"Brother!", Vi would quietly murmur, shocked at the sudden appearance


of her younger sibling. He had certainly grown, and was dressed in


armor their neighbors in their home village could only dream of...


Richard Alarasto nodded, smiling down at his sister. When he had left


at a young age to become a City Guard, he was only fifteen. Now,


at the age of twenty, he was nearly a member of the Castle Guard and


was tenfold the swordsman he was expected to become. The young man


sighed as he took a seat on the small bed of the sleeping baby, looking


around the room before settling his gaze back onto his older sister.


"I stopped to see you, Vi. It's good to see you finally overcame your


hatred of dresses," Richard murmured. Vi would only smile, but then


suddenly frowned, turning her head curiously as she peered at her brother...


"Why are you here? Surely the Guard can't leave Draede on a whim?"


The guard-in-training nodded, peering up at the ceiling of the room absently


before looking back down towards his sister with a serious frown. "Some Castle

Guards tried to rape a handmaiden. We subdued a few, but two of 'em escaped.

Lord Stronham himself sent me to capture them," the young man murmured, peering


down at his decorative blade before looking back at his sister, who was in awe.


"Chasing down evil men and becoming a royal fighter with the attention of


the Steel Wolf? You make me look like horse shit," Virah joked, the brother and sister


chuckling as they peered at each other.


In such a violent world, moments like these were precious...
​

 

[KillThemAll]

Ser Coster Sinclair

​

"Sow"

​

Near The Weeping Women Ruins, Eight Days Following the End of the Battle.


Casualties
​

House Whytewynd: 5,233

​

House Sinclair: 4,615

​

Coster groaned as the cloaked man tended to his wounds. A soft bed laid


beneath him, aye, but the didn't stop the metal instruments of the Stranger


from paining him as they worked at his injuries. Earlier into the battle, the


second-born had been approached by the gruff man on the brink of death.


He was dragged off to Castle Forlorn, an abandoned keep reclaimed by House


Sinclair as the last tower of the Weeping Women continued to be besieged by


House Whytewynd, who were stubbornly refusing to allow the last of House


Sinclair's forces to retreat.


The man didn't speak much, but his deep voice commanded presence and


attention, even from the young Lord of higher birth. The cloaked man had been


sent by a being he simply dubbed "a noble".


Coster was thankful to whomever the anonymous man was. He could guess...


Ser Joran Stronham was whom he thought of. But, it could have just been


another noble seeking power in helping House Sinclair defeat Whytewynd.


Perhaps to swindle them into some self-benefiting deal, no doubt. There were


many possibilities, but Ser Sinclair owed whomever had sent the Stranger a


life debt that'd he surely pay. Such was House Sinclair's noble way. His father


was an honorable man, his father's father was an honorable man, and so on.


"Sleep," the hooded being insisted, working on Coster's damaged leg with a needle and


thread laced with a dripping scarlet stream of a potion. Coster would comply, laying


back against the warm bed as he thought of the future.
​

 

[awriternamedian]

Emmony closed her hand gently around the woman's, smiling at her and saying, "Come, I have a nice little area to sit in my room. It would be the perfect place for us to chat for a bit." She'd lead people up there before, Seeing into their past or future for a price. It would probably amaze most to hear what some people came to a Seer for. She'd had some strange requests before. This was different however, this was important.


With a slight bow, Allan said, "I'll leave the two of you to your talk. I hope you enjoy each other's company." With that he turned, heading back towards the bar. With another smile, Emmony led the woman up the stairs and down the hall, pausing and releasing her hand to open the solid wooden door that led to her bedroom. She stood it aside to let Amunet enter, before shutting and locking it behind them. For what they needed to discuss, there could be no unwanted intrusions.


"Well then, please, have a seat," she said, making her way to the small table that was set up against one wall, taking one of the seats herself. "I'm happy to hear that you've decided to join us in our efforts to make the kingdom safe for it's citizens again."


---


"Aye, mate," the man nodded, pouring him a mug and setting it on the counter before him. He went back to cleaning mugs for a moment before glancing back up at the man. "You have the looks of a foreigner," he said idly. "You new to our fair city?" Foreigners always made for interesting company. It was part of the reason he enjoyed working at this tavern so much. Besides the fact that the owners cut a fair wage, and Emmony looked damned good in her leather pants, the tavern's name drew in a good deal of people from all over. Everyone wanted to meet the people brave, or dumb, enough to so openly oppose the Queen.


---


Caelyn made their way quickly through the familiar streets, carefully dodging people and horses. The shape of this city was entrenched in their very being. There wasn't a building or alley or hidey hole that they couldn't find, and what seemed like a maze to some was clear as the morning light to them. While they may not have grown up in this city, though they'd only spent at most three years here, this place had become their home. And there was nothing about their home they didn't know.


Strangely, they knew their home better than they knew themselves. Well, perhaps not so strangely, considering what they were. Many changelings had difficulties knowing themselves in any detail. Even now, it took a great deal of thought for Caelyn to remember if they were currently male or female, without actually looking.


Female, definitely female still. She'd been female when she left the tavern, as she was always a girl at the tavern. She hadn't made any changes yet. As she slid unnoticed through the crowds, she started slowly, slow enough that it would be unnoticeable to anyone glancing at her. Her hair lengthened, darkened, until it hung halfway down her back, the strawberry blond now almost black. The hair was pulled up into a bun at the nape of her neck as she made other changes, eyes going from blue to green, skin going from fair to tanned, a couple of inches being added to her height.


By the time she reached the castle, she'd become a different girl, though she maintained that look of almost innocent frailty.


The sound of a commotion drew her attention, distracted her from her mission, and curiosity had her weaving through the crowds towards it. Her ears caught the man's words as she came within view of the dais, and her eyes widened, stomach starting to churn a bit. They were to be whipped? Part of her wanted to run, to hide. A small part of her wanted to stay though, to witness their punishment. She knew, from the scene she'd been in last night to the man's words to intuition, that it was Aster these men had both whipped and attempted to rape. Even as her stomach churned at the sound of the whip, threatening to make her lose what little food she'd eaten today, a dark part of her wanted to watch. That dark part of her screamed and cried for blood.


Black tendrils started to creep into her vision and she felt her skin begin to tremble, knowing the insanity was lurking and building. The sound of the man's first scream shook her enough to break it's hold however. Blinking and taking great, shuddering breaths, Caelyn forced her way through the crowd, away from the punishment taking place, and into the castle to get her work done.


@LadyArdent @Veyd Sahvoz

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura pointed to her cleaned plates. "I've been done~" She teased before picking up the plates and swigging her legs around and stood up. "Show me where to put these and get my staff, please?" She asked with a small smile. She didn't care at all how the nobles and other nonsense in the room reacted to her comment. It was what it was and that was it. Shit, she'd be glad to lay all rumors to rest for anyone that had the balls to ask her about it. In fact she wore Asavar's cloak around in hopes it would at least strike some fear..as well as it was a very nice cloak and she had taken quite the liking to it. Perhaps she could convince him to let her keep it just a while longer? Maybe? Heh..that would be a sight to behold. Getting him to change his mind on another thing. Maybe he'd even do it in front o Joran, just so she could prove to Joran that she can change his mind. Hehe~ She was going to make this happen now. The question was...how?

@KillThemAll


((Feel free to have Aura put them away in your post and take her outside to the training field~ Also, shooorrrttt))[/border][border][/border]​

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[KillThemAll]

Richard Alarasto


Castle Guard in Training


"The Fire"




A pair of hunched and hooded figures would chuckle as they


clashed their wooden mugs together. Part of the few within the


Haggard Hydra Inn, they made up for a good fraction of the


noise within the building. The innkeeper, a stout Honey Dwarf,


had been falling asleep at the bar's stained counter. His servant,


a rather attractive elven minx, was all that was left serving the


remaining customers in the earliest morning time.


"Hey, lass, why don't ye come over here?", one of the cloaked men


insisted. Shaken with the simple terror that was the power of a


human's words, the Andal Elf would nod frantically and make her way


over, only for the wretched scum to pull her in with a quick grip on


her hip. She'd squirm uncomfortably as she was pulled in tight.




[media]
​

[/media]



"Your master's asleep, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if ye did a little


extra for me. Earn enough Gold Crowns to buy your freedom, no?",


the plotting thug would offer.


"I-I'll think about it," the elven maiden murmured quietly, pulling


away with a nervous jolt. However, the man would pull at her again.


She'd escape much more violently, and the wriggling hand only reached


forwards once more...


A sharp pain vibrated throughout the perverted rogue's body as he felt


absence where his right hand once was. A steel longsword at the hand of


another cloaked fellow had lopped off his duke in one stroke. With a


cry of pain, the wounded man fell back onto his quieter comrade, who's


grip quickly went to the handle of his blade. Ahead of them, on the floor


next to the stranger's foot was the twitching hand.


The warrior pulled back his worn hood, revealing the young face of


Richard Alarasto. The man who had chased the two out of Draede,


who had failed to capture him along with their rapist fellows, and


who had now come to finish his honor-bound deed.


The maiden would yelp in terror, falling back against one of the warped


tables in the Haggard Hydra. Nearby tavern-goers would begin making their


way towards the very corners of the room, wanting to avoid getting involved.


"Do you remember me, raper? You should, because I'm the one who turned in

your friends. I heard they were torn asunder by Commander Del'Vorra's lashes.

Tell me, would you rather die by the Executioner or I?", the recruit would ask,


resulting in the untouched of the two to stand and draw his own steel blade. They


were of the same make, both forged by Smith Tannas within the Royal Keep.


"You die here, boy," the old and sunken fugitive would growl, moving in to drunkenly


swing at the younger man. The vertical strike was easy for the better-trained Richard


to dodge, resulting in a stab to the left armpit and a shocked collapse to the wooden floor


below.


The second man leaped from his chair with a curved dagger in his left hand, bellowing like a


wounded boar as he moved to aid his guilty friend. With another step to the side and


a powerful swing, Richard had removed the last hand of the former Castle Guard.


He moved to join his friend, losing his footing and stumbling over only to crash into


one of the nearby chairs. His body pushed onwards, his back slipping off of the seat


and onto the table it laid beneath. With raised arms, he suddenly yelled.


"Mercy, mercy! I'll pay you, please!"


Richard huffed at this, growling as he glared at the coward of a man. The young


guard had always held a strong faith, both to his gods and to what he felt was right.


He attacked that traitor's daughter because it was right. He joined the City Guard because


it was right to rid his family of one more hungry mouth to feed. He spread judgement


to other traitors to the Crown because he was bound by honor, and it was therefore right.


"Mercy? You'll have none of it."


The young warrior heaved his blade and brought it down on the man repeatedly. Two strokes


would cut through the barrier of arms that prevented him from striking him a killing blow. Another


stroke would carve into the worm's face. The next stroke was a blunder, the blade striking the table


as the man pushed off with the last of his strength and collapsed onto his knees nearby...


"You... you are ungodly!", the dying man proclaimed, shaking in absolute terror.


"When have the Gods ever been merciful? I am a godly man," Richard retorted grimly. Another


swing would dig into the man's back, causing him to cry out in pain. Another, and another, and


another. Finally, the man's now mutilated skull would roll loose from his kneeling body, the flooring


painted with blood. Terrified patrons of the bar and the innkeeper himself would only watch in silent


shock as Richard kicked the still body down onto the loose head and turned to quickly and easily


decapitate the rising figure behind him. With that one, powerful stroke, Richard had ended his quest.


Both of the fiends had met their judgement.

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"




The old knight would nod, gripping her staff for her and guiding the unseeing


Seer towards the row of rubbish chutes along the back wall of the Dining Hall.


There were rumors of what laid below the chutes. A famous tale, often associated


into song, was of short elves who would take the trash and discard it for the


nobles of Lathien. Another was that a massive and gluttonous dragon by the name


of Gourmand would eat the trash that fell from the chutes and into his deep and dark


lair below the royal Keep. The most widely accepted idea was that the trash simply


fell into a deep ravine system, carved out by the first of Lathien's ancestors. Later,


the ravine would expand into the impressive sewage systems beneath Draede.


Sighing, Joran would place the plates over in a dirty stack next to a tired and


thin elven man. The worn servant eyed the growing tower of porcelain plates with


a meek look of sadness. He was overworked, like every other elven "servant"


in the majority of the world's kingdoms.


The Steel Wolf continued leading Aurora along, handing her the staff he carried


along for her. The two would then depart from the Dining Hall, making their


way through the brisk winds and chilling temperatures of the day. They began


heading through the halls and towards the training courtyard, eventually making


their way there. As they reached the small square of timberland, Joran would


take two wooden practice swords in one hand.


Once they reached the center of the training area, a clearing in the middle of


the miniscule forest, the usually reserved Joran would gruffly command Aurora,


throwing one of the practice swords into the flowing dirt in front of her.


"Pick it up."




@xEmoBunnehx

​

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura would follow along with Joran, her mind wandering away from this place. While lost in thought, she would wonder if she'd really be able to wield a sword. In all honest..she had to. She would make that vision come true, even if it did kill her..she would rid this world of that horrible man and make him pay dearly for his sins. Still to this day, she could not stand to hear his name..or even want to hear the man's voice. She no longer feared him, but rather got so mad she would be shaking. It was almost funny how she had changed over the years..gone from fearing him..to hating him..all because of a vision..one she had been following to the T ever since she'd seen it. Aura knew she was going down the right path because every now and then..she would get that same vision. It gave her hope..and a reason to run.


Aura could remember the day she had the vision. It was pure hell. The very first one she'd ever had. It was far more intense than just 'Seeing'. No..this one..it hit her like a freight train and no matter what she did..she couldn't stop it. Aura remembered trying not to scream or cry, as she'd of gotten severely punished for waking 'Master' up. The vision lasted nearly an hour..or so she thought it might of. Aura remembered waking up from it, curled into a tight ball with her eye wide open. Her entire body ached and groaned..not wanting to move from the powerful vision. She felt like she was going to vomit..or maybe even pass out..but that's what happens when your first vision comes to you and the young age of only twelve. From there..Aura had hope..but she also feared having another vision like that.


That day forward, Aura practiced her powers alone and when she could. It was great..and she as really starting to get the hang of them..until He came along and figured it out. That is when her true hell began.. Aura shook her mind off of this topic, not caring to want to remember her past. Besides..she had already walked pretty far with Joran and she was pretty sure they had changed locations. Her feet met with grass and she knew then that it was time. Time for the first step in the right direction. Time for her to finally stop running.


Aura came to rest in what she thought was the center of wherever they were. From her guess, it would likely be a courtyard used to train people like her who were..new. Aura felt the sword stab into the ground before her and at Joran's command, she would nod. Aura would cast aside her staff, it landing in the ground a good few feet away from them and stick out of the ground like this sword was.


When Aura reached forward, she expected the cool touch of metal..but that's not what this was. It was a wooden sword..she'd almost be pissed if it weren't for the fact that she knew this was much safer for Joran since..Aura really had no idea how to even wield one of these things. Aura pulled the sword from the ground with ease, the weight of the wooden sword was rather..uneven. Nothing like her staff or dagger. It almost felt like the weight was at the tip..or maybe it was the part she was holding? Either way Aura was in no way holding the sword right. Her hand was way too far forward and at a very awkward angle that could cause the sword to very easily be knocked from her hands. Hell..it wasn't even straight. The blade was pointed at a strangely perfect diagonal to the ground from which it came.


It was clear Joran had his work cut out for him.

@KillThemAll[/border][border][/border]​

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[KillThemAll]

Erik Fally


Rebellious Villager


"The Justicar"




Erik gulped as he stood over the worn and cracked gravestones of his


family, the handle of the iron dagger in his left hand shaking with rage


as he squeezed, as if traumatizing the inanimate hilt would do anything


to ease his pain. Two weeks ago, Josef Sword-Bearer had executed his


father, Walter Fally, outside of their stables. A week ago, his young sister,


Vanessa, a simple and sweet little girl, was raped and killed by the guards


who had come to seize his town, Longshore.


They were on the Western border of Lathien. Longshore was a small but


long territory. They were the most isolated citizens of Lathien, and the


most rebellious. Erik and the other citizens of Longshore could mostly


trace their ancestry back to the tribes who once settled along the same beaches.


When foreigners came to expand Lathien's domain, a long and bloody conflict,


the Spearhead Rebellion, had ensued. After a dozen years, the ancient tribes


of Longshore had surrendered and were annexed into Lathien's domain. However,


their independent nature had not left them. They regarded the Crown in low regard.


So, when the good King died and his daughter's rule became sour and pathetic,


the people of Longshore openly discussed secession from the country. This led to


the dispatchment of local guard and Josef the Bloody to make examples of


known Longshore citizens; including Erik's father...


His mother, a blind woman, couldn't be saved as their thatch house was put to


the torch and they were chased across the bleak shores by sadistic men-at-arms


under the Royal Banner. A metal lance took his mother's life, and a metal lance


was what had left Erik for dead on the beaches next to his beloved mother's


corpse.


He didn't die, though. He pressed on, pressed on for a month further. Josef the Bloody


had left, but he was now on his way to return to Longshore. Why? Because Erik had


drawn him out. Five mutilated guards, all slaughtered in the same fashion in the embrace


of night. Three crucified men in a row, staring off into the nearby lake's murky waters from


the rough sands of Longshore. One poisoned noble, hung near the ruins of their


stablehouse. The nobleman was carved, a clear message of scarlet laying on his front torso.


"LONGSHORE ONLY KNOWS LONGSHORE

AND I ONLY KNOW BLOOD

SO, GIVE IT TO ME"


Erik Fally, a young Longshore man of eighteen years, would have his vengeance. His


justice. Whether he stood alone or not.


He was sure of it.


(Using Josef Sword-Bearer the Bloody for this.)



​

​

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"




The Steel Wolf would smirk, eyeing Aurora with a sudden, panging, sense of nostalgia.


He remembered when he first held a blade. At the young age of seven, hefting the wonderfully


crafted piece of ironwood in his hands. He remembered telling his father, Dragon Stronham, that


it was too heavy. His father told him that he could drop it and begin studying books and


history, if he'd like...


Joran had refused.


He remembered being struck again and again by his father's precise blows, the amused


chuckling from his older brother, Jovan, driving his rage behind every parry and counter.


The guidance from both, and from Armsmaster Tarvyan. And his daughter, Julia, who would


watch Joran train, distracting him with her beauty, causing the young lad to blush and


work harder against his masters. Eventually, he'd defeat Armsmaster Tarvyan in combat,


and then managed to defeat Jovan. However, the same difficulty of holding that heavy blade,


of hefting the ironwood carving, would greet him as he struggled to defeat his father. The


"Most Dangerous Man in Camelot", they called him. "Ironclaw", "Judge-in-the-South".


Laboring for weeks, months, Joran did not give up in his duty to defeat his father. He didn't


give up on picking up that wooden sword, and he didn't give up on impressing Julia with


each heavy and reckless stroke against his mentors. With the same rage as his ancestors,


the same Stronham Fury, he finally found himself standing over his defeated father. Their eyes,


nearly completely identical, would meet with anguish...


And then they smiled. Joran had become a true warrior, like every Stronham before him.


Swordsmanship had destroyed and built the old Queen's Guard into something greater, and


he was determined to do the same to Aurora.


"You can hold the blade correctly, or you can leave," Joran


would announce to Aurora, moving in with lightning fast


speed as he closed the distance between the two and


swung at the loose training sword with hardened precision.


Tempered into a legendary blade, Joran had become someone, and now it was Lady Aura's


destiny to be remade.

@xEmoBunnehx
​

 

[awriternamedian]

The Queen

"How is she today?" The servant asked as he approached the guard stationed at her door. He need not have asked however. The dark look on the man's face was enough of an answer. Today was not a good day.


"I fear that Asavar may see some... work, before the day is out," the guard replied, glancing at the servant, who clutched the tray of food he carried tighter. "Walk soft and speak little, else she find some reason to be suspicious of you," he warned, reaching over to open the door to her rooms. He didn't need the warning though. This wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with her when she was in this condition. Somehow he'd managed to make it through each visit unscathed. Not all were so lucky.

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura could feel his movement in the ground, the hard part was knowing where he was doing to strike and how the hell to block it or whatever one did with a sword. Joran was fast, faster than she had expected and he was on her sooner than she could even react. She was going to bring the blade up to block from wherever he was hitting, but he knocked it right out of her hand.


"Fuck!" She yelled, before the sword landed a few feet away. Aura could feel it hit the ground so she ran over and picked it up once more, this time holding father back. Now all the weight was definitely in the hilt of the blade and her hand was a little more comfortable. The sword wasn't as pointed downward as before, but it was still very off, hell even her stance was wrong. She had no idea what the basics of doing this was..but she'd get it. Maybe. She had to.


"How exactly does one hold these things?!" Aura demanded, this time much more alert and ready. She could feel him coming for her..but where would he strike? Not being able to see was a huge problem..as she couldn't anticipate where he was swinging, but she could tell from which direction he would come. So..moving her whole body wouldn't be a problem. It was how to block, swing, and hold the sword that confused her the most.

@KillThemAll[/border][border][/border]​

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[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"


Joran would calmly begin walking towards Aurora, eyeing the problems


in her stance and the way she gripped the training blade. It was the size


of your average longsword and actually rather heavier than an actual


blade.


He'd drop his training sword and continue on, walking towards Aura.


"Here," he'd murmur, the experienced knight moving his hands to place


them over Lady Aurora's. If those whispering nobles could see them now,


the rumors would certainly only worsen. Luckily for them, the only beings


permitted within the clearing were members of the Queen's swords and


those she allowed within the training yard.


"You want a firm grip. If your blade flies off in the middle of battle,

you're completely vulnerable. Hold it up a bit more, you want the weight


pressing down on where it's most comfortable. Grip it like you're making


a fist.When you want to strike, make sure to position the longsword before


-hand, otherwise you will fumble, which will also leave you vulnerable.


Be sure the blade is pointing upwards, you should be able to find out through


the weight distribution. After you get comfortable, be sure you're able to quickly


change how your hand is holding the blade. That will be important for your

stances," Joran murmured, almost in a trance as he stood behind Aurora


and did his best to guide her through it. He seemed almost... unconscious, as


if he were rambling on to himself or sleepwalking. He spoke of it like it was


second nature.


Now, they only appeared more coquettish. Worsely, Joran pressed against Aura's


back, but without any perverse intention. He simply needed reach to aid in


settling on her passive stance. Though, off-handedly, Joran did note that he'd have


to get Aurora some sort of padding, so that the act may be perceived as, at least,


slightly less awkward.



​

@xEmoBunnehx
​

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura felt Joran moving once again and this time she was ready, kind of. She felt how slow he was moving, and for a moment she thought he was taking it easier on her. A moment later and he must of dropped his sword because she felt it hit the ground, or something like it. Aura was quite confused as to what was going on until Joran started with his lesson on teaching her how to told the blade.


Of course, Aura didn't mind her hands being led, but the moment Joran came behind her and was murmuring about how to do everything and showing her was the moment Aura's entire body went ridged with fear. Being encased in arms, unable to move, he's behind her. Aura's breath hitched and came in faint breaths as she eyes closed tightly behind the bandages. A reflex as she's panicking internally, her hands gripping the sword so tightly her knuckles are white.


Aura felt transported back to a time long ago. She's bound by the wrists, tight. The rope is cutting into her wrists, making what existing scars are there reopen and irritation to stir once more. Aura is told not to move a single muscle as a man wraps his arms around her, his drunken words slurring into her ear as she can smell the whiskey on his breath. It's Him again..and he's not happy. All his words..everything..its a threat..no a promise that if she doesn't behave..


And suddenly she's back to reality where its not Him, its Joran who's arms around around her, helping her with the sword. Her breaths are still uneven and shallow, the fear still spread throughout her as she tries to calm herself. Aura..calm down. Breathe. Joran won't hurt you..just breathe. Deep breath..come on. In..Out..In..Out. She told herself before speaking to Joran, "Y-You're making me n-nervous.." Aura stumbled on her words as they weren't much higher than a whisper.

@KillThemAll[/border][border][/border]​

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[Soviet Panda]

"Dis a good place 'ere boyz!"Buras shouted as he planted himself firmly in the muck that was the swamp. And with a cheer, or roar it was rather hard to tell, the war band surged around their leader to fight over who slept where. Buras did not rush around like the ladz, instead he stood and did something few Histyr have possibly ever done, looked around and tried to find a good spot. He didn't want to wake up wet, so it'd have to be dry. And he wanted to keep an eye on them in case one of them was hiding something, so it'd also have to be high up. Well, as high as one would expect from a swamp. And soon enough he found it, but so had several others.


Walking over, he clubs one over the head with a swing of his hand, sending it scurrying off. "Dis 'ere is my spot. And I'll bash anyone that says otherwise." He roared to the camp, making sure everyone knew that he had found a spot to sleep. "Get dem torches up!" he continued to yell, wanting the added warmth the fires would provide more then the light. All in all, the 'camp', if one could call it that, was a mess of sounds. Not surprising, since the best way to do anything was loudly if you asked Buras.


Once that was done, he let them do whatever they wanted. Some got out drums and added to the noise. Some of the Shaman's mistook the noise for music and began to dance. A couple went looking for some poor animal that had decided to stay in the area that the war band had set up camp. Others still just began fighting for apparently no reason, they were probably new ones and establishing themselves on the pecking order.


And this was all because of Buras Skull Smasha, the biggest, strongest, and meanest Histyr around. Frankly he couldn't be happier that they were all with him, that meant that those humies would have to put up a bigger fight to get rid of them.

 

[LadyArdent]

Amunet let Emmony lead the way upstairs which she didn't expect. Just as long as it was dark enough for her she didn't mind at all. What she did realise the fact that Emmony's room was next to her old one. The noises from the other day indicated it was the woman herself.


Whatever happened she wouldn't question something that se isn't part of at all. It was just the trailing emotions that ebbed at her. They entered the room as Emmony began to speak. Amunet couldn't help yet smiling. "It was unexpected to myself even. Truly I don't mind. Whatever use I can be for you two would be an honor."


Amunet still had no real reason to mistrust the situation at all. She hadn't encountered a Seer before. Sure she had came across her own kind, a demon maybe, the proverbial witches. Nothing else beyond that. True enough she knew to believe in many myths or folklore. She sat down at the opposite end of the table across from Emmony as she smoothed out her dress a little.

@ianbabyyy
​

 

[Loony_Bin]

Iltal stumbled down the street, swaying slightly, how could he not? It wasn't everyday he managed to swipe enough money to get good wine and still have some coin left to be able to have a good time at a bar still. So what if he was already slightly tipsy? So what if the smell of trash and liquor was poorly covered up with the smell of cheap incenses? And so what if he still had items that need selling? He was an adult, and had been for years. He could make his own damn choices, and nobody was going to stop him from doing so.


He continued on like this for many a minute, occasionally laughing at a joke he might have remembered, or a comment he could have yelled at the person passing him if he wasn't so sure he would get his arse whooped. It wasn't until he stumbled in front of a certain bar that he quieted finally. The Queen's Madness...damn.


He wasn't scared, actually very much the opposite. Hell, if he really wanted to join up with the revolution, chances were that there were enough people that he could make some kind of connections with some higher up. The problem was simply that if he went in, there was a chance he'd go by unnoticed, a chance he'd become nothing, and he HATED that idea. That's why everyday for the past week, he hadn't gone in; but today? Today was different! Today, he would go inside! Because today he had his secret weapon...


...Being fucking drunk.


He barged in through the doors and spread his arm wide, proclaiming at the top of his lungs, "Alright you fucks! I'm finally here! Now everybody make way for your new favorite person!"





(I hate this post so much, but I have no other idea how to get myself in so...I hope this was alright O~O)