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 Posted: Wed Apr 30, 2008 12:40 pm
A Fantastical Fantasy Roleplay
-Well, this is going to take longer than expected to be up and running.
[[storyline, profiles, etc.etc..]]
I had it all typed up nice and pretty and wonderful and
domokun {[[-chomp-]]} domokun
My computer eats it.
sweatdrop crying
So I am trying, desperately, to recreate my wonderful "brainchild"
{{ -I stole that word! La!- }}
so it may be a few more days until the opening of the Rp.
cry
But be on your toes darlings, my beautful baby shall be unfurled shortly!
xd 3nodding
whee
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Posted: Thu May 01, 2008 12:47 pm
Castle of Phantasmagoria 3098
The Reign of King Draknar
_Outside the Castle
The full moon was covered by a veil of clouds, not a single star shone in the night sky. Black clouds roiled across the sky in a tempest as mighty winds from the north surged across the plains and through the forests of Fantasia. Nary an animal ventured from its home this night, all cowered in thier dens holding thier young close, as the forests rumbled with the threat of violence to come. The air was heavy with the rain in the distance, sweeping across the land like a cloud, lightening slashing through the sky with the fury of nature as she let her voice be heard in ricocheting thunder claps that shook the ancient trees.
From the shadow of the castle a bundled figure emerged, hesitant, searching the nooks and crannies of the castle for signs of guards. None were to be found, Dres had done his job. The figure waited a moment longer, before hurtling from the side of the castle towards the safety of the forest's interior. She ran as hard and fast as she could, the heavy fall of her black cloak flying behind her. As the hood of her cloak blew away, it revealed a long braid of silver white hair, ivory skin, wide silver eyes that darkened to match the oncoming storm. Her breath blew in pants as she ran away from the castle, fear urging her farther than her body would allow. She clutched her precious bundle to her tighter, both arms wrapped around the cloths as she continued, never looking back. Lightening flared overhead, breifly illuminating her panic strickin face and the bloodred tears that trailed down her cheeks.
_Throneroom of Castle Phastasmagoria
The tall knights stood with thier armor glinting in the torchlight, swords sheathed at thier sides, faces shielded behind thier face plates. The Captain of the Gaurds, a burly horrible man, pushed the other soldier to the ground in front of the throne. Dres hit his knees, gritting his teeth in pain as his freshly broken bones jarred. Her lip and nose were bleeding, one eye swelled shut, black and blue. Other bruises were already forming across his face and down across his shoulder, where his shirt hung in tatters, blood and dirt smeared across his skin. Though normally well over seven feet, he bowed over, one arm useless at his side, hanging crookedly from one of the guards. His luns burned as he forced himself to breath past his ribs, which he was sure most of which were broken.
His one eye looked up at the King defiantly, the silver glowing in the dim hall, holding the lightening that speared outside in the depths with an unholy anger. Though it hurt to do so, Dres smiled grimly in satisfaction, mocking the King who sat before him in the throne.
The King himself, a man like his people, tall and broad of shoulder, over seven feet tall, sat rigid in his chair. Though there were similarities to the people he ruled, like his size, there the similarities ended. He was dark skinned, with hair the color of rubies shot with strands of gold, and eyes black as the night outside. He wore gold rings and bangles, necklaces, chains, had it sewn into his clothes and adorned his cloak, his clothes were black velvet, the finest made. While his people starved and went bereft, he lived in wealth and comfort. His face was a cruel mask of anger and hatred, his eyes burning with fury. His voice was a deep rumbled filled with loathing and self importance as he addressed Dres.
"Where is she traitor?"
Dres merely laughed and shook his head, uncaring at the flinch from the pain the movement brought. The wisps of his white hair fell into his face and obscured his eyes, but still he stared down the King. "She who Draknar?"
In a blur the king stood slammed his boot into his face. The blow sent Dres sprawling across the floor to slam into the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. The frightened knights stood aside, watching fearfully that his wrath would be turned upon them next. The king stomped after the bloody man, who pushed himself to his hands and knees, spitting blood and laughing. The kings fury increased. He kicked him forcefully in the side, then reached down and clasped his hand around his throat, dragging him up to dangle in the air almost nose to nose. Dres's vision blurred as his throat burned, his one good arm weakly squeezing the hand around his throat. The king lowered his voice and enunciated each word carefully, relaxing his fingers enough to allow him to answer. "Where. Is. She. Fool. What did that whelp promise you? A place at her side, her bed? In her court when she rules the Fey? You are a fool to believe her, she will never, never rule here so long as I draw breath. She is not fae enough to beat me." Even then Dres laughed, though the sound was weaker, coughing. "She is safely with her people now. You'll never get to her. And You forget who is the rightful heir to the throne of the Fae, she'll kill you Halfbreed."
Lightening flashed outside like an omen, thunder clalshign loud enough to shake the castle. The king roared in anger, throwing Dres agains the stone wall. His body slid to the floor and lay unmoving. The kings voice echoed through the great kingdom, full of hatred and fury.
"Find her!!!! Do not let her see the light of day!!!!!! I want her body shown to me before the morrow is over, and I will have all of her faithful subjects destroyed!!!!" The guards all scrambled away in sheer terror, thier calls to arms ringing across the land. Men threw on thier armour and ran to thier horses, charging out of the castle and into the storm filled night. The king paced furiously, a tremor of fear washing through him before he viciously stomped it out.
"A mere slip of a girl shall not dethrone me."
Edges of the Forest of Midir, HQ of the Fae Rebels loyal to the First King
The figure came running out of the forest, halting as she faced down a circle of fae holding spears pointed at her. As they saw her face, they lowered thier spears partially, parting as the leader of the Rebels came through. He stood taller than the others, his hair a white gold that framed his ivory skin. His eyes were pale blue and gold, harsh as they looked upon the girl they all respected and feared. He did not ask the consequences of how she came to be away from the captivity of the king.
"My brother?" Even as he asked, Leion knew, as he felt his brothers life force fade away. The bleak look from the girls silver eyes told him all he needed to know. He sighed, crossed his arms and waited. Before he could speak, the girl stepped forward, squaring her shoulders, her regal bearing showing even through the tattered clothes.
Torches were lit and passed around, and as it illuminated her face, Leion knew the world was about to change. She had bruises and marks all over her body, but her silver eyes burned stong and defiant. She stepped forward, stumbled, but righted herself as silence engulfed the men. She held the bundle out to him, as the bloodred tears started to fall again.
"I charge you, Leion of the Fae, to guard this with your life. You must lead my people and set them free of the horrid reign of this fake king. For your brothers life, and mine, for the lifes of your family, for the lifes of our people, you must not give up. You must succeed."
Even as the breath expelled from her lungs, she slid limply to the ground, her silver eyes staring sightlessly into the sky above as the clouds darkened even more. Leion stared at the girl, sadness tinging his eyes as he pulled the heavy bundle to him. As two soldiers gathered her up, the wild wolves in the forest began a long mournful howl. As thier voices came together, lightening flashed and thunder crashed across the sky. Then another tiny voice cried out, his voice blending with the wolves for a moment before thiers faded away, and the cry continued, the bundle shaking in Leions arms. His hand shook as he opened the bundle to find a scroll, the great sword of Legend from the First King, and a baby. The baby who raised its fist to the sky and cried out for his mothers death. The wolves circled closer and raised thier voices again in a chorus of howls. Then the baby opened glowing silver eyes and looked up at Leion, all the soldiers gasped and backed away, lowering to thier knees. Leions voice was full of awe as he held the baby in his arms. "The Heir to the Throne of the Fae."
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Posted: Thu May 01, 2008 12:50 pm
~*~ More will be coming shortly!!!!! ~*~ 3nodding
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Posted: Thu May 01, 2008 1:47 pm
Hey, this sounds really good so far -- excellent writing as well. Could you PM me once you get it completely set up so I know when to join? =]
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