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 Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 10:43 am
 ☆xxxxxxxx 『 R e c a p 』xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆xxxx☆xxxx☆ Two weeks have passed since all of the assassins and parents were banished from the realm, and while normally Veritas would be able to magically repair the damage to his castle, the sudden need for his power, along with his energy being usurped from being stuck in a painting, he has commissioned workers to do it for him (of course the abbey is to be rebuilt first) - claiming that he is no stone mason, and that the royals left without their own quarters would learn to live with their enemies.
He seems to think it'll be a good lesson for them to learn to get along. For this reason, there are beds set up in two different floors of the same wing - it's an open space, with alcoves for bathing - curtains can be drawn. Beyond that, the only other option for sleeping arrangements was to get married to actually have need of a private room. He doubted anyone would take him up on the offer, so it's assumed that everyone is sleeping in one of the two rooms available.
☆xxxxxxxx 『 A f t e r m a t h :xxAxxF o r t n i g h txxh a s xxc o m exxa n dxxg o n e. . . 』xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆xxxx☆xxxx☆The faint crackling of scattered campfires was barely audible in the morning darkness of the fog, impossible to find if you weren't actively looking for it. Hidden in the forest outside Veritas' castle walls, the campsite held very little reason to venture into, as the sight of bloodied weapons hung on wagons and skulls hung on tents for decoration were hardly a welcome sight. There were sleeping forms of rugged looking men and women heaped among the scattered campfires of the site, while a few of the awoken were roaming the grounds and even roughing each other up a bit.
Among the tents, log cages, wagons and blankets visible in the camp, one particularly large tent stood out in the corner of the site, of which two burly looking guards stood watch outside of, positioned near the entrance.
Inside, the sound of two arguing voices was muffled by the tent cloth, but was no less noticeable.
An aged, cloaked man stood at the end of a table containing a map, his face held in stoic displeasure. Standing opposite him was a much larger man, fierce in disposition and holding an intimidating stare. This was the leader of the bandit guild both were currently in, Ernakh the Relentless. Neither men seemed too happy with each other at the moment.
"We've waited by long enough, Caelus! Why must we stand idle?" Ernakh questioned, slamming his fist onto the table with great strength. "Your constant delays of our attack are angering not just me, but my men as well. We may as well begin our attack -"
The Bandit leader was silenced by the aged man's raised arm, commanding his silence. "You will do nothing, Ernakh, until the time is right. You will have patience." Caelus spoke with a tone of aloof authority, his stare unwavering in unnatural intimidation. "The men I sent out for reconnaissance have yet to return. We will base our actions based on their report."
"Those men are mine, and I gave you no permission to send them out!"
"If you want this plan to succeed, you will do what I deem necessary."
"Your plan, so far, has achieved very little! How long have we camped out here, for this so called 'reconnaissance'? For all I know, you're dooming my guild to isolation in a foreign realm!" Ernakh's voice rose into hostile levels, his grip on the table becoming tighter as his face reddened.
Caelus struck back with mild annoyance in his voice, pointing a finger at the larger man. "Let's not forget that you wouldn't be in this realm, where it not for me! I granted you access! I proposed the plan! I provided the means to do so! All you must to do is lead your men for the attack! Or did you forget what I have access to?" the aged man said as he reached into his sleeve to pull out something.
The sound of shouting outside the tent grabbed their attention, halting their aggression towards each other for the moment. A bandit, cloaked in shrubbery and foliage, burst into the tent. He gasped for breath as he strode to Caelus, his form fatigued. "W-We've returned..." he gasped out shakily, exhausted from the sprinting he and his team had just finished. The bandit scout held out some parchments, each scribbled and drawn on. Ernakh snatched them quickly from their hands, his face still scornful. "Possible entry points listed, outer walls detailed, sentry paths traced...we've gathered as...much as we could survey...without getting caught." he struggled to get out in between breaths. Ernakh's expression grew brighter as he went through the parchments, his grin widening with glee. He turned to Caelus slowly.
"Is this...what you had them do, Caelus?"
The older man nodded, his sour look dissipating slightly. "I'm not senile, Ernakh. Proper preparation for the coming attack is never a bad idea. This, along with my own little contribution, should give us little difficulty in taking the castle. Our victory is assured."
Ernakh clapped his hands together loudly, the bandit scout still in the room jumping in surprise. Ernakh grabbed the scout's shoulder and shook him. "Wake the others and tell them to ready themselves! Today, our castle will be made ours!" he said proudly, vigor returning to his voice. The scout nodded his head and ran out the tent, the sound of his shouting filling the camp outside.
"Are you sure you wish to attack so soon? It would not be a bad idea to rest on this information for a day or two..." Caelus said, his tone not full of concern, but rather amusement. Ernakh slammed his fist onto the table, not at all surprising the elder man. "We've wasted enough time waiting already! We move now!" the bandit leader's voice boomed as he happily walked out of the tent. From his waist, he pulled out a horn whittled from a tiger's skull and blew, the odd noise serving as a loud signal for the rest of the camp. Almost immediately, the entire camp stirred with life as every bandit woke and stood up, packing their gear and weapons. Bows, axes, daggers, spears and broadswords exchanged many hands as the bandits readied themselves for the coming siege.
In the midst of the all rushing bandits and profanities shouted to each other, the lone Caelus stood just outside the main tent, carefully surveying the scene. One who stared at the aged man long enough could have sworn he was smiling as he pulled up his cloak's hood.
"In due time, Veritas, you will lose all. What is yours is rightfully mine...as it should have been, and as it will be." he said darkly, grasping at a small relic within a pouch, which glowed ominously with a faint blue light.
Almost on cue, dark grey clouds began to form above them, slowly merging together from nothingness. The still dark morning would remain darker for a little while longer, while a slight fog began to blanket the land, also seeming to form from nothing.
It was all a warning for what is to soon come.
--------------------------------------
As the morning sun rose over the land, the castle and it's grounds had long since been ensnared into a dense, almost unnatural fog. The light drizzle of morning rain patterned on the windows of the castle, naturally informing it's denizens of the morning shower.
☆xxxxxxxx 『 Q u e s t i o n s? 』xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☆xxxx☆xxxx☆Please see a moderator for assistance.
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Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 11:34 am
↞ Liam Balin↠ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Location:Outside, at the edge of the Property  The knight scowled, eyes blazing as the clopping of horse hooves kicked up a clumps of mud for him to stand and sink in as he watched the soon-to-be-king gallop away, back to the gates that would deliver him in Envy. Jaw clenched, Liam did his best not to wring his hands with his anger – the only visible sign of his temperament was the envious glint to his pupils, a note that he could hardly control. He too, should be going back; his stomach twisted with the staunch need to wash his hands of this realm and return to where he was of use.
Here he was reduced to nothing. Nothing but a useless crony, a waste of space and talent left to rot. Heaving a sigh of great weight, his golden-imbued eyes closed slowly so that no one would witness his growing ire. “I should have gone as well.” He muttered underneath his breath, remembering too clearly the trivial excuses he'd been given when he'd inquired about departing with Nathaniel and Evony.
No doubt Manuel had convinced them a guard was needed for Altonair, the new heir until the eldest of the Wood children sired his own breed. But he'd worked too hard for his position in the military for it to be forgotten. “I am not a guard,” He reminded the prince beside him, attempting to keep his contempt from his tone. ”But a soldier. Envy's best soldier. My place is on the battlefield, not watching over a son of privileged birth.” And were it not for the general's fear that Liam would one day challenge him for the position, it would be where he was now.
Beads clacked together as the elf lifted his head, searching Altonair for some sort of idea of worth, but found little to be satisfied with. Mayhaps he was not as bad off as Evony, who had not yet acquainted herself with their sin. (Presumably she would when her first blood came.) But his lack of prowess with a blade concerned the man.
Envy was known for its warriors; the Woods needed to lead by example. “As instructed, your lessons are to be resumed.” It'd been a long time since Liam had been asked to help the boy wield a sword, but he'd been called away to the field shortly after, and in turn, Altonair had made minimal progress.
“I'll see you in the training grounds.” Turning away, the knight stalked to the training grounds, caring little about the torrential downpour – despite how hard it spit from the skies. It wasn't as though the boy would melt, and Liam had personally seen far worse conditions to fight in.
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Too many lost.
Links in a chain passed down through the years,
But ending here, if we just face the pain and the fear...
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Posted: Thu Aug 30, 2012 8:59 am
 ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ In the Company Of: Ryan Riley ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ Located: In the Library ❥┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊┊ Thinking: I want my own room. XXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX YOU ARE MY STRENGTH IN THE END, IN THE ENDXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX❥❝ Fighting for no reward--We toss and we turn, words ever burning. ❥!_____________________________ Naedira sat delicately on an oversized pillow with her legs curled beside her, resting quietly at Ryan’s feet. Her hand maids would have probably scolded her to see her crumpling her black gown without thought or care. Weeks after the incident, Naedira still wore a fierce color of onyx in memoriam of her friends that had lost their lives. Her beliefs dictated that her facial features should also remain hidden from sight for a period after the death of a close family member or friend…But the donning of a veil seemed to make some of the castle occupants uncomfortable.
Considering their new sleeping arrangements, and the fact that they were all regulated to such close quarters; the Shield Maiden would never presume that her beliefs were more valid than that of another…So she simply met them half way.
She would wear black to profess her period of mourning twice as long.
“I just can’t get used to sleeping with so many people so close by…I’ve spent so long warding my door…I can barely close my eyes.”, she spoke as she yawned, the confession proven by the fact that her magic was still not at it’s finest. Overtaxing oneself did not come without a price.
Due to the fires it seemed that most of her belongings had been relegated to some kind of secure storage while their quarters were repaired. The servants had assured her that there hadn’t been much damage, having misunderstood her initial question. The ever altruistic Naedira had been interested in their well being, not the well being of her possessions. The servants truly seemed to be the least effected…As if the lingering smell of smoke and blood in the air didn’t calculate. Paranoia and an essential need for modesty caused her to erect magical walls in addition to the curtains that separated her bed from the others.
The pious princess dutifully donned night clothes with the most fabric. Most of what she owned to sleep in was simple, unlike some of the other princesses and ladies. It almost made her wonder if it was wrong…Intricate shifts of lace and silk, to her understanding, weren’t meant for sleeping. They were meant for husbands to remove…And since she had yet to actually marry, she didn’t see a need of them. Until that changed she would remain with her white and gossamer items—Soft to the touch, flowing, and yet fully concealing.
It was mortifying to walk about in her sleepwear and a robe when just about anyone could see her. The princess often waited to leave the safety of her curtained bed until the room seemed silent. Meaning that she had nearly missed breakfast everyday since the fires. The notion that they could marry to avoid shared chambers had left her blushing like a blood rose in full bloom for at least an hour.
Not that marriage seemed as bleak as it once had…Simply because of what the need for private chambers implied.
She read aloud for her brother’s enjoyment, reveling in the feeling of a book between her hands. Books were such marvelous things…Humility had few. Out of respect to the trees, they rarely cut them down. For shelter, yes. But for something the council felt they could live without? No. They’d spent the morning in one of the few undamaged libraries, reconnecting and doing quite a large amount of silent apologizing.
There had been many misunderstandings in the humble houses…It wouldn’t happen anymore. She’d read countless poems about life, fire, love, and war. It was nice to simply exist as they had before coming to this realm. Ever at the others side…This was the way it should be. “Tell me brother…”
“Have you spoken with the Lady Sarah as of late?”, Naedira questioned as she closed the last book she had in the stack, having gone through them all. Tilting her body, she scooted back and rest her cheek against Ryan’s knee, a familiar position from when she was a girl. It felt like so long ago…“I’ve only seen her once or twice since the fires… I fear her family may be withdrawing her. Many of the kingdoms are withdrawing their children...”
She knew that her brother and the Lady Sarah didn’t really seem to enjoy one another’s presence… But Naedira was equally duty driven and compassionate. She worried often for all inhabitants of the castle.
Except, for Dominique D’Aquitaine.
It was a sin, to wish someone damned and dead…But she wished the woman eradicated more often than not. “I’ll likely be dining with Prince Altonair this evening—Unless he is otherwise engaged. Feel free to join us…I’ll pass the invitation to Madelyne as well.”
At the mention of her betrothed, her thoughts strayed. She’d heard of a summons for his elder brother and younger sister…The maids had stated the 'Woods' were leaving...Would he be departing as well? A solid lump of coal sat in her stomach at the notion of her Prince being so terribly far away. She assumed that if it affected the delicate balance of their situation, he would have at least come to bid her farewell...Altonair was a gentleman. Of course he would. She hoped.
It was selfish, and entirely foolish…But she didn’t want Altonair to return to Envy. If he was staying in the castle...She didn't want him dining alone. Though they had seen one another often enough-- She hadn't truly even had the chance to thank him for being so kind to her during the attack. Especially when she'd discovered later that he'd also suffered loss that same day.
Apologizing for the loss of a family member that she wasn't even sure she was supposed to know about was difficult to do. It wasn't something that could be simply...Brought up.
Realizing that she’d been silent for quite some time, worlds away, she blushed and her gaze fixed on her hands. Her flightiness was newfound, and only developed when the Envian Prince was brought up. “Apologies…I’m becoming a gossip. I know it’s terribly unseemly but the very walls whisper secrets in this castle…I try to pay it no mind…But sometimes, the words are very convincing.”
Naedira felt a little light headed. She’d felt that way most of the morning…But she simply assumed that her cycle may be nearing. It was nothing debilitating, but it was something she took note of when it didn’t pass. Maybe it was the dreary day bringing her mood down. Sitting up straight she sighed, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead for a moment.
“Do I feel overly warm, brother? My head feels like it’s full of cotton…It's hard to concentrate.”
_____________________________ [OOC: Let me know if anything needs changed. I winged it like whoa,]
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Posted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 11:09 am
Ӄingdom: Avarice
Ɍank: Heiress
Ƚocation: Courtyard - Gazebo
Ⱦhoughts: A war is not won by doing what is right... To win, one must simply do what is necessary.... ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ The Heiress of Avarice twisted and turned in the watery deluge, playing about a covered gazebo in the courtyard. The golden haired minx was soaked to the bone, but she didn’t seem to notice as she danced, enjoying the day. There was something beautiful about the rain and fog that made her appreciate it. Where others felt the need to stay inside and hide from the weather, Domini embraced it. What was a little mud and water, compared to the way the rain felt as it fell from the heavens and touched her skin?
Her flawless figure undulated in snake like motions as she twirled elegantly, patterns of light and glittering baubles leaving her palms in spades. The constructs she made shattered as they hit the ground, sending bursts of color throughout an otherwise grey morning. Two knights of under her banner stood not far away, watching her every move.
It would be impossible for Fandral to keep an eye on her every moment of every day—Granted though he tried. Sleep was a demanding mistress and would eventually lay claim to him. The cadre of knights she had at her disposal were a sufficient substitute when circumstances demanded it…Though nothing could quite replace having a Vice Marshal. To lose one, would be to lose a limb…
She prayed, that after the fiasco a fortnight prior, Fandral had learned his first lesson about duty… No one could truly say that Dominique was a kind or forgiving creature—And fealty was not a lesson she was willing to re-teach. If he continued to disappoint her… She would need to send for a new Vice Marshal. The thought bothered her, more than she would like…But these were dark times. Crucial moments, that could not tolerate failure.
Clad in a soft violet gown, the material bunched about her ankles as she spun quickly, delicate feet never seeming to touch the ground until she stopped. The hemline of her gown flared in a perfect circle, and she let it flow, before moving along, darting through the pillars like a nymph in the middle of spring. Her laughter was the sound of gentle music, intermingling with nature in such a way that it seemed she belonged…
“What will they say, a princess dancing in the rain?”, she questioned her knights impetuously, brilliant aquamarine orbs reflecting what little light there was. She was met with a familiar silence, and she smiled fondly at them. Ah, her Protectors. Her jailers. Talking to them was often like speaking to a plant. They listened, and never shared her secrets. “Will they call me mad?”
“A mad little god-child?”
She laughed at the clearly imbecilic notion as she returned to her previous activities, paying the rest of the world no mind. She knew what she was, and what she wasn’t. The rest of the Kingdoms could find out on their own time… She enjoyed the fine art of keeping the vultures guessing.
“Though I suppose I did commit murder in front of them…Perhaps I am mad.”, she mused thoughtfully, before shrugging her shoulders elegantly—Dismissing the notion with a gentle chuckle.
Dominique had been spending as much time outside of the castle as possible. She hated sharing quarters, and seriously considered demanding a husband from Veritas to avoid it. She required her own space, her own chambers. She would never presume to tell her many times great uncle what to do…But she would make her displeasure known.
Some of the heifer women that slept in the same area she did snored louder than a thunder clap. If she were being very honest, which was rare, she would admit how entirely close she was to creating pillows heavy enough to painfully smother the other occupants of their barbarian barracks. Perhaps the women were merely men in disguise. Disgusted, she sighed with disinterest. That would explain their masculine tendencies. Cows for slaughter, the lot of them.
At this point…She almost missed the chaos. Things had been droll and picturesque. It offended most of her sensibilities for things to be so uneventful. She almost missed the assassins…At least then she would have something productive to do. Per her fathers’ request, she’d been seeking a political audience with the children of Humility. She’d since been denied at every turn. That annoyed her more than anything…To be ignored.
That wouldn’t stand. Dominique D’Aquitaine was not willing to fail the Kings orders…No matter how inane. Eventually her dancing came to an end…It was only so enjoyable for so long without a dance partner. The wind made a good surrogate…But eventually she crumpled to a stone bench under the gazebo like an exhausted flower. Flaxen hair fell about her form in wet waves, caught in the glittering circlet she’d not thought to remove.
Only now, when she stopped moving, did she feel the chill. Raising her hand a fleece lined cloak came into existence, wrapped about her form. The day couldn’t end quickly enough…She was tired of her sentence in the castle. Lonely, without the family she had always known…
But no one could ever know. She was whimsical and the perfect daughter. Nothing more, nothing less.
♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛
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Posted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 11:23 pm
 Corrine Brooke Masterson Arch Duchess of Wrath ✩ Location: Quarters ✩ In "Mourning"  Painting her lips, Corrine puckered into the polished silver mirror located in one of the bath alcoves. It had been two weeks since the fires and assassin attack, two weeks since Jasper's death, and two weeks of torture sharing a communal room with all the other royals and nobles seeking shelter amongst Veritas' castle. It also meant she was only two weeks into her "mourning" period for the passing of her betrothed. True, he had been but an impostor, but her father still thought it prudent, for fear that it would "further tarnish" her reputation amongst the kingdoms' eligible bachelors.
In reality, she couldn't care less. Rather than focusing on her future, she wished that her father would butt out. As much as she loved him, he had a habit of taking over her life, pushing her wants and desires into the secondary spot. If he knew of her elicit meetings with General Kirios, the shock and disappointment would likely send him to an early grave. Granted, the "affair" was not as scandalous as either of them wanted to be, simply because of the change in sleeping arrangements. Corrine longed for her private chambers again, where she could meet with whomever she so desired, discreetly, of course. For fear of angering their host, however, she tried to keep her outward complaining to a minimum - the last thing she wanted was another inopportune betrothal to another ridiculous, virtuous man.
"My Lady, I don't mean to pry, but I don't feel this was your father's intentions when he sent your mourning attire," she maid spoke sheepishly, averting her gaze as the Arch Duchess adjusted her chest underneath her corset to ensure that everything was properly secured. A grin spread across her red lips, green eyes smoldering under uncharacteristically heavy, and dark, eye make-up.
"Perhaps not, Lyssa, but I think it would be more insulting to the other kingdoms to mourn the death of an impostor, killed properly according to Wrathian justice. Besides, if he wants me to attract male attention, I can think of no better method." No doubt, news of her behavior would reach her father, but given the aftermath of everything, she doubted he would be allowed back onto the castle grounds anytime soon.
At least she had that in her favor.
Sweeping back the curtain that separated her from the general sleeping chamber, she moved forwards in a flurry of black and silver skirts, exposed shoulders strikingly bright in contrast to the fabrics adorning her form. Her still wet hair was haphazardly pulled and pinned back from her face, the Arch Duchess stepping through the arrangement of beds, brushing past waking bodies, on her way out of the room. Irritation registered on her face as she had to sidestep a maid entering the room to attend to her duties. Managing to squeeze through the doorway, she released a pent up sigh, smoothing her bodice before turning, and running straight into something, or rather someone, solid.
Corrine's training naturally allowed her to regain her balance quickly, an expression of surprise escaping her as she steadied herself.
"Gods, I must start watching where I am-," her words cut themselves off as she saw who it was that she'd inadvertently run into, "…going". The Prince of Hubris, Richard Riley stood before her, training immediately kicking in and causing the Arch Duchess to sink into a slightly rushed curtsey. On the one hand, she felt like she had to stop meeting people like this - on the other hand, if they were all so attractive, she'd risk a clumsy reputation. ((Oodles Of Carrots: Richard placed with permission. Let me know if anything needs changing! ))
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Posted: Sat Sep 01, 2012 11:01 am
Temper your enjoyments with prudence, lest there be written on your heart that fearful word "satiety." Millicent Faye Borleas
Duchess of Prudence
Location: Veritas' Castle: Sitting Room
Entertaining: Open
Thoughts: Disaster Strikes Millicent sat on a pillow, absentmindedly working on her needlepoint as she cast grey-blue eyes out the window. Tilting her head, pale forehead made contact with the glass, sighing at the gray fog that enveloped the land below. A golden headpiece pulled her raven hair back from her face, accenting a mint green gown with golden accents, the symbol of her house embroidered in glittering gold thread on her bodice. It had been two weeks since the fires and madness that marked her arrival to the castle. Two weeks since she'd lost one of her handmaidens. Two weeks of communal housing with many of the other royals seeking solace within these stone walls. Her upbringing prevented her from being anything but courteous to the other women, even overlooking some of their improper behavior, while inside her own mind, she was wishing upon wish for her own room back. It was cruel - sticking her close to Princess Cecelia and then ripping her private chambers away from her to stick her into a large room of women. On the plus side, it caused her to rise early each morning, have her ladies dress her, and then spend the mornings exploring the castle, or practicing her finer pursuits to make sure they were sharp. Of course, rising early should also have allowed her to see the sunrise, but so far she had no luck with that. Instead, she worked on her skills - needlework, poetry, recitals, singing, painting, and all the like. While she had a shrewd, political mind, Millie understood that her sway would come in her ability to charm those around her with womanly pursuits. They all had their part to play, no matter how demeaning it may be. Setting her work down, nimble hands reached down to adjust her skirts around her, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she did so. With the weather being so overcast and wet, lately, it had limited the amount of time she could spend outdoors. Frankly, the Baroness was starting to go a little crazy being cooped up inside all the time. But at least her handmaidens had been using this as an opportunity to make friends with the castle's waitstaff. She'd already started receiving information about some of the guests, as well as their host, that had proved most interesting. " My lady, perhaps you should head towards the dining hall, to break your fast. You've been sitting here for hours now, and the weather shows no signs of lightening." " Perhaps your right, Elizabeth. Thank you." Casting her eyes over to the girl, a polite smile flickered at the corners of her lips, giving a soft nod. Standing, she graciously handed the girl her needlepoint to return to her things, again adjusting her skirts before heading out into the hallway. Her expression was solemn, almost bored, as she walked with head held high, shoulders back, towards the dining hall. The attendants opened the doors, met with a "thank you" from the Baroness, and she made her way inside to find a long mahogany table. Millie took her seat gently, reaching out for a piece of fruit located in a bowl on the table as she waiting for a servant to inquire as to what she wanted to eat. With any luck, someone interesting would come in, and offer her some respite from the boredom of the day. It is wiser that a person of prudence and purpose save her strength for battles that can be won.
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Posted: Tue Sep 04, 2012 10:21 pm
 Kingdom: Hubris
Rank: Servant
Location: Kitchen
The past two weeks had gone by very slowly for the servants of the castle. While Veritas had called in stone masons to work on rebuilding the castle, the servants were charged with not only taking care of the royals but also the masons if they needed food and or drink. It was exhausting work, especially cleaning the sleeping chambers, or rather, the sleeping hall. Since everyone was now in the same wing in two different hallways, the servants had to clean around the royals. If a royal didn’t want to move, the servant had to wait. If the royal wanted to sleep all day, the servant had to wait to change the bedding which usually angered another royal because not having the bedding changed was ‘disgusting’ and not something they wanted to ‘deal with’. It was frustrating and all of the servants agreed that they could not wait until everyone had their own chambers again. No more bickering, no more whining, no more…cramped quarters.
And the incident in the woods still weighed heavily on Ella’s mind. She had not seen much of Sam Greene since the night in the forest, which saddened her. And after the two had said farewell the night the abbey burned she quietly mourned the death of Haven Greene for fear of someone in the Hubris family finding out, and she made sure to keep her feelings hidden about the attack that occurred on both Haven and the King of Fortitude.
Currently:
Ella stood uncomfortably on a wooden crate in the kitchen, a couple of servants standing around her with needles, pins and thread. Adorning her body was a silk dress the color of an eggplant with white embroidered leaves on the collar, hem and cuffs. The dress came with a beautiful white corset that went over the dress with eggplant colored strings and more embroidered leaves along the edges at the top and bottom of the corset. The dress she was wearing would have been lovely if it were not for the ripped hem, a popped seam along the waist and a small tear going up the left side of the dress. The only thing that was saved was the corset, minus a little dirt. Looking over at a crate next to her, Ella stared longingly at her own clothes. “Can we please hurry this up? I do not think the Lady will approve of her dress being on another person…”
The other servants hushed Ella as they propped her arms up a little more, a man with pins tugging on the fabric at the waist to make it stay. He then lowered her arms and frowned that the waist began to sag which would make the corset look bulky. “I think…” “Ella dear, please be quiet.” The other servant said as she moved Ella’s arms so that they were halfway up. “The one who owns this dress ripped it while evacuating the castle a couple of weeks ago. She demands it be fixed and you’re roughly close to her size. So we need you to wear it so we can pin it. Now hold still!” Ella had been protesting, her arms moving around as if that would help her words come out quicker. It didn’t, and the woman repositioned Ella’s arms again, a disapproving and nervous sigh escaping Ella’s lips. She had been roped into this chore because there was nothing else for her to do until the dress was pinned properly. Once it was, Ella would be given the dress so that she could sew it back together and hopefully fix the embroidery along the hem. It was just unfortunate that she also had to be the mannequin. “What if someone sees? The kitchen is not the place to be doing this….”
More hushing as the two told Ella that this WAS the place to do this. Since everyone was confined to the two floors there was no place for the servants to do sewing and needlepoint in private. They were not allowed to be gallivanting in the library or the conservatory and the dinning hall and ballroom were most certainly off limits too. So what did that leave, they asked Ella; The Kitchen. A place where the servants could go to eat and where a good portion of the chores were anyway. What better place? Not to mention royals usually didn’t enter the kitchen, they waited for the servants to take their orders.
Another sigh and the sagging of her arms elicited angry scowls and harsh words from the two that were trying to fix the dress as quickly as possible.
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Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 7:33 am
Ɉϕɧɳ Ӎiҫɧɑϵɭ Gɍϵϵɳϵ Kingdom: Fortitude Rank: Prince Location: Courtyard with someone(Dominique) nearby White walls surround us
As we sleep among the dead (()) How was one to properly mourn a family member? That question kept going across John’s mind these past two weeks. He thought it would be a long time before he ever had to think such. Yet, luck seemed to not be on his side…or on the side of his late brother, Haven Greene. He should have realized something was wrong the moment the magic behind him disappeared. The protection spell that Haven had casted had seemed like ages ago. But, John had assumed that Haven couldn’t keep up the spell any longer. That had been partially the truth. However, it wasn’t for the same reasons of fatigue that John thought caused the disappearance. He would have taken his older brother being fatigued rather than not amongst the living anymore. John knew though that denying the truth would not be what Haven would have wanted.
Unfortunately, that made mourning for his brother much harder. For at least with denial, he could go on believing his brother was alive. But without denial, John had to come to terms with Haven being gone. The timing of his brother’s death couldn’t have been more ill-timed. After all, people from Fortitude were supposed to be strong of character. They could not show sorrow as readily as other kingdoms. However, with all of the royals having to live in cramped quarters currently, there were only so few places he could go to privately mourn. Though, John supposed it could be worse. Things could always be worse. He shrugged at that fact as he made his way through the twisting corridors of the castle. The corridors that even now seemed to try and make the Prince of Fortitude lost as ever.
Whether it was luck, or sheer will, John got himself to his destination. But, rain appeared to still linger over the courtyard. The dreariness of the weather made it harder to keep himself intact. It was like the heavens were trying to tell him he could cry. However, even with no relatives around(that he knew of anyway), the angel could not bring himself to express it. Though, with no parents around came any need to dress in fancy attire. Thus, John had no reason to stop himself from stepping out into the courtyard and into the rain. Even though he could not fly in this weather, the rain still felt refreshing. The cool water felt nice against his warm skin. Not only that, but the sensation kept him grounded. More so than the dry corridors behind him.
He took a few more steps into the courtyard. Though, as he did so, John thought he noticed someone in the gazebo nearby. His eyes couldn’t really tell due to how the rain poured down upon him. But, John did feel someone watching him. His body tensed a little as he tried to figure out who was looking at him. He could not tell from here it was guards that had taken an interest in him. Likely in an attempt to make sure he didn’t do anything funny. The unknown looks made him look down towards the ground. For right now, John didn’t really care to be looked upon by anyone. Even if it would be hard not to notice an odd figure just standing in the rain. However, in his wondering mind, that was something John did not take into consideration. We can chase the dark together
As the sky returns to grey
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Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 8:32 pm
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ xxxxxLet me take the fall. Let me take the blame. xxxxxxxxxxxxxLet me carry you from hell to home again. xxxxx━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀ Let me be your armour. Let me be your shield.
Let me take away the pain you feel. (Your armour.)  Let me be the light that guides your way through darkest night.
Let me be your armour. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me walk for you when your legs are weak.xxxxx
Let me find the words for you when you can't speak.xxxxxxx
❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━xxxxx
Fandral Vincent Wolfram xx Avarice xx Vice Marshal / Conduit xx Courtyard xxx  While his duties to Dominique certainly kept him busy, being in this castle in the last two weeks almost felt like a vacation to the young assassin. He was almost certain that going so long without killing people would give lesser psychopaths addiction withdrawals. He was not such a person, but perhaps he should find a random stranger to murder at some point, just to be on the safe side? With his skills he could make it seem like he was never there. He could even make it seem as though it were a complete accident. Ah, but where would be the fun in that? He could instead choose to frame one of the many other denizens of the castle for the crime, and laugh inwardly as the apparent culprit was taken away or even executed for his or her crimes; two birds with a single thrust to the neck, or as he liked to refer to it as, poetry. It would be no problem to sneak into someone's belongings while they were absent and take something as small as a button, kill his chosen quarry, then drop the item at the scene of the crime and make it seem as though there had been some kind of struggle, as he'd done so many times before.
Fandral reminded himself that he was not here as a simple assassin anymore, but that he was here to serve Dominique in whatever way she asked. He was no longer an assassin, though his training remained useful as ever, but something far more important. Money was no longer his incentive, Dominique was. After his indiscretion, he was utterly devoted to proving that he was every bit the perfect vice marshal and conduit that he promised he was. It was for this reason that he needed to keep any sudden blood thirsts that were not Dominique's in check. He would kill in defense of his beloved, those who posed a threat to her future reign, and anyone else she decided was worth the blood dripping down his blade. It was as he vowed, that he was forever her sword, and she forever his sheathe.
One thing he still needed to adjust to was having a regular sleep schedule, in accordance with his mistress's own of course. So much of his work was done in the night, and rarely in the day, that in his many years in his profession he'd almost forgotten what morning looked like. Still, he had no trouble acclimating to rigorous schedules, and so he had no complaints. He spent this morning as he did most mornings in this castle, spying on the others. Seeing as how he could count on one hand the number of people who'd seen his face, it was no difficult feat to walk around in disguise without being noticed. He even slept wearing a mask simply so the others would not see his countenance; most had only ever seen the lower half of his face, or at least they did not know that it was him. As such it was easy to hide in plain sight, as it were, and take the guise of a simple servant. He never made any attempt at communication with anyone unless he was directly addressed, but simply used his disguise to eavesdrop on conversations and gossip. No one ever seemed to take a second glance in his direction, but Danika always did tell him he had a natural knack for blending in with his surroundings. If there were any interesting pieces of information, which there rarely were, he immediately reported it to Dominique.
Right now, however, he was in his proper attire and ready for service to his mistress. For now he was simply perched atop one of the castle walls overlooking the courtyard and in effect, the gazebo in which Dominique stood and danced with the wind like an eagle eyeing his prey. The slightest vestige of a smile crossed what very little was seen of his features under his hood. It always made him smile to see Dominique act like, well, Dominique. She may have thought that she could get away from him, but the simple truth was that there were very few moments in the day when she was not under his watch, whether she knew it or not. Right now was one of those times where she thought she'd escaped him, but over the two weeks he'd been as careful as possible in his care of her, and never letting himself be fooled by her trickery again. Certainly the rain aided some. Some would have called him overprotective, but to him there was no such thing when it came to the person he held most dear above all else. The moment he saw someone else enter his line of sight, however, his senses awakened, ready to strike the man down should he do anything.
Without further ado he reached for the rope laying coiled next to him, affixing the grappling hook to the ledge and letting the rest fall over the wall. He gripped the line and lowered himself with a swift slide, gloved hand tight enough to keep him stable as he made his way to firm and wet ground. He intentionally made an effort to make his presence known as a walked past the newcomer, whom he recognized as one of the Greenes, as he walked toward the gazebo. He bowed to one knee as he addressed his mistress. "Are you bored, ma maîtresse? Is there anything I can do?" ((OOC: Again, sincere apologies for the gods awful quality of this post. I fail at intro posts.))❀ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❀
Let me take the blows that were meant for you.
Let me help you with the trials you're going through.
Let me keep you safe from the world outside.
Let me wipe away the tears that fill your eyes.
Let me keep you from experience you need.
Let me bind you with my selfishness and greed.
Let me stifle you. Let me have control.
Let me smother every aspect of your soul.
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Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 9:57 pm
Knight of Justice
A Good Morning, and now to acclimate oneself with the Castle The morning was a pleasant one for Alistair. While many had decided to take on the generous offer of Veritas to stay in the general quarters, the Justian knight declined. He preferred to distance himself away from the others, for fear that his demonic curse might cause further trouble amongst the castle. It had only been a fortnight since the fires, he could wonder what his own fires might do to a castle like this. But thoughts were cast aside as he set up a tent outside of the castle, a common practice he had taken during his journeys with soldiers. He was fortunate to have this tent, it had been his father's passed on to him. It has served him well over the years, given him shelter when no one else could or would. He did what came custom to himself, setting camp near the woods, covering the tent with branches and grasses in order to conceal its presence somewhat. And for those two weeks he spent his nights out away from the condensed group of people. Awakening at first dawn, he took to his rituals. He clothed himself, and placed on some of his armor. He was a warrior not unlike an artist or a diplomat. Though he expressed himself through violence rather than words or paint brushes. Placing his swords at his sides, he then decided to carry one of the many weapons he had taken from the fields of battle. He always enjoyed the practice not as a trophy, but as a way for the fallen warrior's spirit to live on through him. Taking a dagger from a Wrathian knight, and a bow from a Hubrian archer, he slung them about himself as he made his way back to the castle. The work seemed to be going along well, something he enjoyed to watch as he walked to and fro.  He decided to further explore the castle on this rainy of mornings. He was quite wet, but he did not mind. He'd been used to being covered in water, mud, and many other things from his years fighting. It's merely another thing to overcome. The morning fog gave the castle a air of mystery as he entered once more. He had yet to enter the courtyard, something he rarely did even in other lord's castles. But since he was living here, he decided to make the trek. What he normally reserved for the nobility was something that he came to enjoy as he first stepped in. His red eyes caught the sight of a golden haired beauty dancing about in the gazebo within. A tinge of red came across his face as he could not seem to take his eyes off the dancing wonder before him. He was not sure how to address this young woman, as everyone around him was some sort of noble or princess, in fact he had hardly a clue aside from Krios and the Justian family who else resided within Veritas' walls. "Enjoying the morning?" he spoke, the words coming out of his throat a lot easier than he had imagined. Of all things, he was not one to talk to women as much as say his favorite general. Part of it was the gooseflesh he got when he tried, another part was the fear that he may one day pass on his own afflictions to his children. The thought came into the back of his head as he uttered a pleasantry, and stood there waiting for a response in the gentle foggy rain. Alistair was unfortunate to have problems of perception, as he finally noticed another gentleman in the courtyard. He had taken a knee, and addressed the woman in a tongue that he guessed was of royalty. Perhaps she was a high lord's daughter, or even more so? He could only guess. "Cry for your pardon sir, I did not see you there. The fog plays tricks on my eyes it seems." he stated with a hint of apology in his voice. If he was interrupting a moment between the two, he would gladly leave as proper manners would require.
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2012 9:52 am
• Ӎ ɐ э ʆ ɸ ȵ ɐ • ʗ э ɾ ΐ ϛ э • Ѧ ϛ ȶ ɐ ʆ ʆ ɸ - ζ ɐ ȵ ϛ ΐ ȵ ɠ • Ｔｈｅ ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ, ｈａｉｌｉｎｇ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｋｉｎｇｄｏｍ ｏｆ ＰａｔｉｅｎｃｅLocation: Dining Hall Currently Wearing: This Dress •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•   Maelona found herself in the music room she had found some weeks prior. It was one of few rooms that had been affected by the fire. She sat upon a stood, concentrating on the harp in front of her, her slender fingers plucking away at the strings. For the past two weeks she had set herself to the task of learning the instrument. A piece of parchment paper sat in front of her as she attempted to follow it. She found it a difficult task to teach herself, and had many times given up trying to read the music and simply allowed her fingers to play with the strings.
A small sigh escaped Maelona as her hands fell to her lap. It had been two weeks since the fires. As with the others, Maelona did not like the idea of sharing a room with the others in the castle. She was close enough to the enemies of Patience just being in the same castle, but now it was far too close for comfort. She had a fear that she would not wake up one morning. It was a terrible thought, but she knew she was not the only one who would think it.
This music chamber was Maelona’s escape. She spent most of her hours here, and had even napped often in the room with the door closed. It gave a her a piece of mind, hoping that the creaking of the door would wake her to an intruder. It was not long before her fingers went back to work on the harp, filling the silence of the room with random notes as her blue grey orbs found their way to the window. It was hard to tell what time it was with all the rain, but she guessed it to be early morning. Perhaps the dining hall was still somewhat empty.
Maelona’s fingers struck a sour note, causing her to frown. It was a sign, or so she had told herself, to stop the practice for now. She pushed herself up from the stool and made her way to the dining hall.
It was a short walk this morning compared to the others, or so it had seemed to Maelona. The halls seemed to always shift and move, as if the castle itself were alive somehow. Of course it wasn’t likely, but she couldn’t deny it fully. After all things in this realm were strange. Upon entering the Dining Hall, her attention was pulled to a dark haired woman who was the only one there. "Good morning." Maelona greeted gently. She had been expecting more people to be there, though found herself thankful that she was incorrect.
Maelona looked the woman over for a moment, trying to place her face with a name, or even a rank, though she had always disliked the second option. "It is strangely empty here this morning." She said, trying to make some small talk. She found silence to be awkward, especially where there were only two. She did not recognize the woman, leaving her to assume she was not from Patience. Though of course the way she was dressed left Maelona with the impression she was of importance, though not quite royal. •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx• Louder than sirens
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLouder than bells
Sweeter than heavenxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hotter than hell
""
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Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2012 11:45 am
Amarenth Soren Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Kitchen with Ella Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light (()) She walked down the hallways of the castle. Some of the hallways were in need of repair, while others looked as good as new. The latter ones likely looked that way due to them not being hit by the fire. After all, the God of the castle hadn’t worked any of his magic on the castle. He appeared to have hired workers to fix the damage instead. While Soren could understand that, she still wondered if it wasn’t some form of punishment. For with the slow repairs came everyone being cramped into little rooms for the past two weeks. That hadn’t been the annoying part really. In fact, it felt like the days she had to share rooms with her fellow knights. However, with living in a cramped space came encountering people all the time, and seeing things she wished she hadn’t.
Thus, in order to counteract that, Soren did her best to get up before most everyone else. That way, she could be ready to go and get away from the rooms before the others woke up. Luckily, the knight found that quite the easy task. Though with that came a sense of utter boredom. With Nathanial and Evony gone, the only Envy child here now was Altonair. Thus, there were two knights, her and Liam, for one “child” instead of two knights for “three children”. Strategically, that was likely for the better. They would be able to protect a single Wood much easier than all three. Yet, with Liam planning on training Altonair currently, she didn’t have much to do protection wise. Hence, her wondering around with a bored expression on her face. “I almost wish the assassins were still around.”
A part of her felt bitter over not getting in on the action. She would have loved to have been able to teach them a lesson! However, getting Sokar and Maelona out had to be her first priority. Thus, Soren knew her decision had been wise. Even if by the time the three were making it out of the castle, the fire had been extinguished. Soon after that though, Soren learned that Maelona was a princess of Patience. She wasn’t sure if Maelona had learned she was a Knight of Envy or not. Either way though, the knight felt herself avoiding the Princess. For how was she supposed to feel about an enemy that seemed so…nice? This made it hard for her to blindly hate Maelona. Her thoughts had even gone so far as to wonder if the people of Patience were like Maelona? If so...was it right to-
Though, every time that thought entered her mine, Soren immediately pushed it away. She was a knight of Envy! She could not question such things! Her loyalty was to Envy, and not to her enemy. Whether Patience like it or not, Envy would win in the war. Even if Soren wondered now if that victory would not be bittersweet…She knocked on the side of her head a little. A frown on her face as she wondered why her thoughts were being so stubborn! The knight could only shrug now as she found herself in front of the dining hall. However, Soren did not realize that might be a bad choice until she looked inside. One female(Millicent) she did not recognize, but the other…she definitely recognized as Maelona. Soren hated the automatic response her body had gained. The one where she immediately moved out of the room and left before Maelona would see her.
The act was cowardly, yet what else was she supposed to do? She could not let traitorous thoughts run through her mind, and that meant staying away from the one who planted the thoughts in her. However, just because the dining hall was out didn’t mean the kitchen was out. Besides, with the knight realizing just how empty her stomach felt, Soren was not about to let someone cause her to skip a meal. Thus, Soren entered into the kitchen. She had no idea that her timing might have been a bit bad. But, the knight soon found out when she looked upon an odd scene. There were servants standing around Ella. The servant she remembered being the one that lead her and Maelona to the kitchen two weeks ago. Though, that wasn’t the really odd part.
The really odd part was the fact Ella was wearing an eggplant dress and was standing on a wooden crate. The servants around her were holding pins, needles, and thread in their hands. It looked like they were using Ella as a way to fix the dress. Though, what issues it had she could not tell from here. However, while Soren didn’t want Ella to get stabbed by a needle, she felt standing and watching would be just as bad. After all, the servants might not have wanted someone to see them doing such work in the kitchen. Since Soren never would have put seamstress work and kitchen in the same sentence before now. For that reason, staring at them would likely not be the best idea.
Thus, she coughed lightly to announce her presence. “Don’t mind me. Just letting you know I’m in here and getting some food.” The knight didn’t really pay attention to their looks, or what they might have said, as she moved towards a stove nearby. “More like fixing it anyway.” Those words were more said to herself. Her hands were already busy with getting what she needed to fix her meal. After all, the servants were busy and she was no royal. No need to make them fix her food. She might even fix them some since there was only a couple of servants in the room, including Ella. But, only she was able to keep herself in a pleasant mood. Otherwise, the food was all hers. Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do not sink beneath
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Posted: Mon Sep 10, 2012 2:34 pm
╔═══════════════════════════════╗
Richard Bellerose, Prince of Hubris
Hallway
In The Company Of: Corrine Masterson
╚═══════════════════════════════╝ 
Richard walked through the halls of the castle without purpose. Eyes barely taking in his surroundings the servants of the castle had learned quickly in the time since his near-death experience to stay out of his way. They would either scatter in every direction the moment he came into view or flatten themselves against the wall to avoid coming into contact. This fear was well deserved as on multiple occasions he had went off on them for bumping into him or disturbing him. He was a prince of Hubris and they were lowly servants, Richard didn't have to watch where he was going for them it was the other way around. Most of the time he expected everyone else to watch themselves.
Sleeping in one large room with multiple other guys was beneath him. He should have had his own room by now. The repairs to the castle were coming slow. Were he to have a betrothed the prince would already have married just for the private quarters. It wasn't like he had a problem with sharing a bed with a woman. Granted most probably wouldn't appreciate his... hobby. Not that he particularly cared at the moment. It wasn't like he was from prudence or a virtuous nation even. He wasn't required by law to remain faithful. Thankfully.
Since the assassins had attacked the castle Sara had been gone. Richard had taken some time to search for her, but at this point the young man was not too hopeful. As a result he had taken to wearing black clothes in respect, though that probably wouldn't last much longer. He was not one to dwell on things. If she were to show up alive it would just be something to laugh about later. If she ended up turning up dead, well then it was just another of his family members that this damned place had taken. Hopefully it would be the last, he was running out of relatives after all. Feeling a tad parched the prince headed in the direction of the dining hall.
Moving at a brisk pace Richard closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his neck only to suddenly run into someone. Catching his balance rather easily one of his hands grasped the obviously feminine arm firmly, but not too tight. The action was both to help stop her from falling and so she didn't simply run off. The woman spoke as he released his grasp and suddenly stopped. Gaze of displeasure turning to the woman it quickly melted away into a neutral gaze. As the woman did a curtsey he studied her. Clearly she was at the very least some kind of nobility. Nodding his head to her it was probably the most formal greeting she would receive from him.
"You should watch where you are going, but it's fine." It was beyond fine given how attractive the woman before him was. Expression guarded he suddenly melted into a smile. "I suppose introductions should be gotten out of the way. I am Richard Bellerose and you are?" Eyes traveled over her form for a few moments before allowing himself to lock eyes with her again. Her eyes were just as beautiful as the rest of her. "So are you heading somewhere specific?" Hopefully not as talking with the woman a little more would be nice.
(OOC: )
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