<center> ~~Time & Tide~~
A Darkleaf & Goldheart RP </center>

<center> </center>


Many look back on the days of dashing knights and damsels in distress and wish they had lived then. They think of it as a golden, magical time when the laws of chivalry ruled. Such daydreamers would think twice if they lived in the world in which our story takes place.
In this world, knights and maidens locked up in castles are commonplace. But their lives are far from fairytales; this is a brutal, savage world they live in. Girls do not always get swept off their feet by a handsome crusader; they are forced into cruel marriages and treated abominably. Knights do not always win jousts; the lance often forces it’s way into their frail human flesh and they die in the most agonizing way possible.
This is life in Brayrneirn, a world of snowy mountains, rolling green hills, castles on the horizons… mythical creatures such as the phoenix and the dragon exist in remote corners of countries. It is all perfectly lovely, utterly beautiful as any land can be. Yet danger lurks in corners; the people of Brayrneirn are not living in a storybook.
Let me take you to the west of this world, to a prosperous country called Arvaine. It is perhaps the fairest, as well as the wealthiest, of all the lands in Brayrneirn. The royal palace sits in the shadows of towering, snow-topped mountains, and villages and towns shower the plains in swooping lines. The people of this land want for nothing. There is a castle at every crossroads, and a lord to reign over every village.
Arvaine is a very old country. The blood of it’s royal family goes back hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years. The people are content under the rule of their king and queen; they are figureheads of the nation, wise and within reach, for the royal family enjoy traveling around their country and visiting their nobles, as well as the people of the small villages.
But all is not completely peaceful in this seemingly perfect country. Havoc is breaking out in the hills. A strange tribe of wizards, as they call themselves, have appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. They call themselves the Druid-Wizards, and tell all who will hear that they have come to Arvaine from hundreds of years into the future. According to them, the future is not entirely pleasant for this country, and they want to change it before it occurs.
These wizards, in their time in the future, were once honoured and well-respected by the people of their world. People came to them with their troubles, from illnesses to any number of problems. They were revered, and they used their magic to aid those who needed help, were they villagers or nobles. But trouble was stirring whilst they went about their work; there were those who said that the magic of the Druid-Wizards was evil, and that any who used it should be punished and eliminated. As time wore on more and more people began to take up this view, and the wizards were soon under threat; their ways were to be abolished, they were to be hunted down.
But they had means to escape this turmoil; their magic permitted them to travel between the years, a gift unknown to all but them. For a long while they had had no need of it, but now the time was here. They chose a time when peace was ripe in Arvaine, and disappeared into thin air to bring about their change.
The king and queen have heard of these wizards, and though they are concerning, since they have entered several villages and have begun to spread their preaching, damaging the villages who scoff at them, they do not believe that their story of coming back from the future is true. After all, how could visiting the past be possible? The wizards do not explain how they have come to be here, they have not spoken of any magical device.
Other than these strange occurrences, life goes on as normal in Arvaine. The villages that have not been infiltrated by the wizards live happily enough.
But what of life beyond the villages? The castles? Even though they have not thus far been attacked by strange Druid-Wizards, is life entirely placid for the nobles of Arvaine?
We shall see…

~~~

“Ophelia! Ophelia!”
Ophelia looked up from her bed. She was reclined against the pillows, a book propped up against her knees. She had been slowly turning the pages, looking at the beautiful pictures within. Though she was the daughter of the lord of the castle, she longed to jump within the realm of her book, to a place where life was a little happier. But even if traveling from the future was possible, as the Druid-Wizards everyone talked of so often, said, diving into a storybook was not. She gently pushed the book off her knees and slid off the bed.
“Ophelia!”
Unwillingly, she moved towards the door and turned the handle. She walked towards the top of the staircase, where her father was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking none too happy either. “I’ve been calling you and calling you,” he said, frowning up at her. “What have you been doing?”
“Reading,” she replied.
He gave a short, harsh laugh. “I still say it’s nonsense that you even bother,” he said. “You won’t have time for your books when this engagement comes through.”
Ophelia’s stomach sunk. “Engagement?”
“Of course. I keep telling you, it’s time you were married. Your dowry’s good enough, for goodness’ sake, and the man we have in mind is rich enough to set up as a king,” her father said. “Come downstairs where I can speak to you properly.” His tone, as usual, was unfeeling and steely. Ophelia hesitated. She was not sure she wanted to. But he summoned her towards him with an impatient hand. “Come downstairs, girl.”
She moved down the staircase, the blue skirts of her gown rustling. Instantly, as soon as she had reached him, the lord of the castle grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him.
“You will obey me in this,” he said. “Or you shall see what price you shall pay.” Her twisted her wrist and she cried out in pain.
“Father! Let me go!”
“No. Hear this. You will marry this man. But before that, there’s something even more important. Listen.” He twisted her wrist again, tighter this time. “The prince Casyre of Arvaine is coming to visit us. This is a very important visit. I expect you to be on your best behaviour, and to mind your manners. If you are to be married, it’ll be good training. I don’t want to see any of your willfulness. Do you understand me?”
She gulped, nodding. Her wrist felt like it was about to snap in half. “Yes, father,” she whispered.
“Good.” He released her wrist, making her stumble a few steps backwards. “You may go back upstairs now.”
She watched him carefully, hoping he would not make a sudden move again. But he remained still, waiting for her to go back up the stairs. She ascended the steps, her wrist sore, her heart thudding. She looked over her shoulder. Her father’s cold face was like a mask. Quickly, she looked away again and hurried into her room, closing the door behind her.
Married.
A visit from the prince.
She closed her eyes against the misery, and refused to let herself cry. If there was one thing Ophelia despised, it was crying. But at a time like this she felt she just might.

Back downstairs, a woman in green with blonde tresses swept back up from her face had been watching the exchange between the lord of the castle and his daughter in silence from behind a pillar. She stepped forward silently, making the lord jump. He turned and rolled his eyes in relief.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said, none too pleasantly, either.
“Indeed it is,” said the woman smoothly. Her tone was soft, and she looked at Ophelia’s father with raised eyebrows and her usual smile. “Now that wasn’t very nice, Lord Yawain.”
“What?”
“The way you spoke to the Lady Ophelia,” the woman said, appearing in every sense neutral to the matter. She did not sound as if she was scolding him at all. But then that was always her way; no one could tell her thoughts, fathom her actions.
“I would stay out of it were I you, Selene. She is my daughter, I shall treat her how I see fit.”
She just looked at him. This seemed to unsettle him further still, her blue eyes unwavering, her odd smile constant.
“Stay out of it, you interfering witch,” he threatened, his tone filled with bluster. She very slightly bowed her head.
“My lord.”
With that she turned, her green skirts swishing, her smooth footsteps taking her away from his presence. He frowned and shook his head.

~~~

Name: Ophelia
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: Ophelia 1
Ophelia 2
Ophelia 3
Apparel: Ophelia dresses mostly in light colours; her gowns are shades of sea-foam blue, pale violet, white, light grey and other neutral shades. She wears jewelry when it is required, but mostly likes to keep her attire simple.
Personality: Ophelia is free-spirited and strong-willed, but her natural personality is often squashed by the anger of her father, who believes she should behave quietly and push back her opinions. She loves to daydream, and takes comfort in her books, which tell tales of valiant knights and magical creatures.
History: Ophelia is the only child of a powerful nobleman; her mother died when she was not one day old, and she has been raised in one of the richest castles in Arvaine. She grew up somewhat lonely; she was not permitted to form friendships, since her father believed it would weaken her. Although she was given an education, her father sees it as worth very little, as he has planned since her childhood to marry her off to his advantage.

Name: Selene
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female
Race: Unknown. Little is known of her heritage; she could perhaps be a witch, or a spirit of the earth. Indeed she possesses magical powers, though she is frequently referred to as a “wise woman”.
Appearance: Selene 1
Selene 2
Selene 3
Selene 4
Apparel: Selene mostly wears gowns of silk, chiffon or, when she is working, fine quality linen, which vary from shades of the darkest green to the lightest cream. Though she is employed in the household of Ophelia’s father as a healer, she dresses like a lady of the court.
Personality: Selene is a mysterious being; she radiates her warm smile at all times, but no one can figure out what goes on in her mind. She displays a rare kindness to everybody, but never lets anyone take advantage of her; when someone has displeased her she will find a means beyond expressing her displeasure to take revenge upon them.
History: It is not known when Selene came into the world; there are none now living who know her history. She has always dwelt in Arvaine, and at one point in her life lived near the mountains; a solitary existence, but it suited her. Some decades later, she moved to the center of the country, where she became famous for her skill with the healing art. Many people flocked to her for help to cure their ills. A nobleman who’s wife was with child heard of her, and summoned her to his home to help with the birthing. Selene did so, but the man’s wife eventually died after giving birth to a healthy baby girl; Ophelia. Since then Selene has never left the castle, and has taken up the role of healer for the family.

Name: Yawain
Age: 41
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: Yawain
Apparel: Lord Yawain dresses as a nobleman of Avaine; though his cloth is rich, he dresses mostly in dark colours. He would never admit it, but this is in mourning for his wife.
Personality: Yawain, over the years, has become a cold-hearted man, unfeeling towards all who meet him. He was not always thus, but now he feels no sympathy towards anyone, nor does he feel at liberty to show kindness to a living person, not even his own daughter.
History: Yawain was born to one of the richest noblemen in the land and his wife; he was raised lavishly, and taught that one day his father’s castle and all the land around it would be his. He looked to be a promising young man, and when he was 20 he asked permission to be married, for he had fallen in love with a fine young woman of noble birth. His parents consented, although within a month of the engagement his father died and title of lord passed to Yawain. He grieved for his father, but was married in short order, so great was his love for this young woman.
They settled down happily into married life; Yawain’s mother also passed a way, which was yet another difficult blow for the young man, but he was heartened when his wife told him that she was with child.
It turned out to be a painfully difficult pregnancy. Yawain’s wife had to take to her bed within a few months, and almost nothing could put her at her ease. As her time drew near, Yawain began to worry. He heard talk of a woman skilled in the healing arts near the village, and he summoned her at once to his wife’s side. The woman, Selene, came, but even she could not help his wife. She eventually died giving birth to a baby girl, who she had wanted to be called Ophelia, should she be female.
Yawain was beyond consolation and refused to even look at his daughter. Selene ended up having to care for her, and as the months wore on, she was accepted into the household as the healer.
Yawain never recovered from his grief. Now Ophelia is a young woman he has decided to marry her off to a rich nobleman. He never grew fond of her, and would not care if she was unhappy in such a marriage.

Name :: [Prince] Casyre - cass-ire
Race :: Human
Age :: 24
Gender :: Male
Appearance :: Casyre 1 & 2
Personality :: A life of formal propriety has made Casyre slightly awkward to those he doesn't know. He finds it difficult to relax in the archetypical environment that usually surrounds him; stiff politeness and endless small talk irritate him, so he will usually seek a quiet corner to lurk in until whichever dreary dignitary has passed to talk to someone else of importance. The limelight never held any kind of thrill for him, but it isn't something he will consciously avoid - unless he has something to hide.
To those he trusts, Casyre is a much warmer soul who'll speak freely and laugh easily.
History/Background :: One of the things that Casyre loved about growing up was his being surrounded by people. there was usually someone vaguely interesting roaming around his home waiting to be tricked, teased or taunted in some subtle way. Avaine's castle was large, and it's gardens lush, so another prominent memory is that of his siblings - three brothers and a sister - and himself running about, hiding and waiting for another to find them.
Mostly, Casyre's life has consisted of education in the ways of politics, governing and the way the country works. he considers the majority of these teachings meaningless, seeing as he is neither the eldest son nor the one names as heir. Believing the process useless and taking time to make fun of it with the few friends he kept got him through most of the dull days, though life's routine has already carved it's weary pattern into his mind so many times he's adamant he'd be able to repeat it in his sleep.

Kaelee & Erica [twins] - kay-lee - erik-ah
Race :: Human
Age :: 21
Gender :: Female
Appearance :: Kaelee & Kaelee 2, Erica & Erica 2
Personality :: Erica is an all-round quiet person who is ruled by her head. In a small company she is keener to speak and contribute to the topic of conversation, when in a larger party she can come across as slightly antisocial to those who don't recognise the small signs of discomfort - a twitch of the hand, avoiding eye contact, restless movements. Subtlety is a tool Erica uses more often than not: if she does suggest something in either formal or informal conversation, then the comment ought to be examined for possible connotations - as positive as possible, or at least shown in a light that makes them look that way.
Kaelee is quite the opposite, and wears her heart on her sleeve for all to see. Emotion is Kaelee's dominant reason for doing anything; if her heart isn't in it, it isn't worth doing, is the way she sees things. Common sayings such as "Good things come to those who wait" are impatiently brushed aside by this half of the duo, and combatted with "It's not your future if you don't make it yourself". Kaelee is a true social butterfly, and her interest in people extends further than the gatherings in the local inn; she enjoys watching and judging their attitude towards society itself, then talking to them to see whether or not she assessed them correctly.
History/Background :: The two grew up close to Lord Yawain's castle residence - or rather, in the shadow of it. The Lord's castle was one of the few buildings in the area - apart from the King's castle, with its spires and towers - that reached to the sky as the surrounding mountains did - though even they came no-where near close to blotting out the awe-inspiring sight that was the snow-capped peaks.
Childhood passed quickly for the two, who realised that the world wasn't made of fairytales and that a living must be earnt. Their father, a travelling merchant, had started his buisness two years before his daughters were born; he saw much of the distant lands, but little of his family - something he regretted but believed he could not change. The twos' mother caught a sickness five winters ago, and hasn't been right since - she is rarely able to leave the house, and is cared for by whichever of her daughters is not working to maintain the life they live.
Erica, by chance, became the apprentice of a wise healer - Selene - and has been working for her and learning the trade, slowly, as the latter continues her work in the Lord's castle. Part of the reason she asked for the apprenticeship was because of her mother's condition; alleviating pain would make such a difference to her life.
Kaelee works wherever she can, for without some kind of education of high status work is hard to come by. Usually she holds down the job of a barmaid at the inn, The Sickle Moon, a short walk away, and if that's not enough, she'll lend a hand to the local businessmen and women; tailors, carpenters, blacksmiths - and if that fails, she'll resort to more distasteful methods of earning money - reluctantly.


Name :: Dáire - daw-rah
Race :: Druid/Wizard
Age :: 36, his appearance about a decade younger than his actual age.
Gender :: Male
Appearance :: 1 &2
Personality :: Generally a calm person, in control of his emotion. If riled, he can be malicious, but is not entirely devoid of his own sense of what is right and wrong. He prefers to control people via undetectable manipulation, rather than force or threat; he find if a person thinks what they're doing is of their choice, they are much more willing to actually do it. Dáire's character is morally gray; he is not innocent, but neither can he be proven entirely guilty.
At his best, he'll fight for those he values, and shows some mercy where it's due; causing pain or death isn't his idea of fun, but if it's what needs to be done to save his world, then he'll do it. At his worst, he's conniving, sly, untrustworthy and reckless.
History/Background :: Why would he tell you?

~~~

<center> ~RULES~
- No God-moding, obviously!
- Most important rule – have fun!
- Now, the RP will begin in the castle of Lord Yawain, where Prince Casyre will soon be making a royal visit. Your charries can be from around the general area, or they could be travelers from other parts of the land of Arvaine, which is the main country of the RP, where all events will take place.
- Here are the races your charries can be from…
~ Human
~ Druid Wizard (there are no Druid Wizards in the present time. They have all come from the future to the present day, since they are a people that only came into being a few hundred years after present time)
- Your charrie can also be a descendant from an ancient, dying magical race in the present time. They abilities are not extraordinarily powerful but they have some power. Now that the wizards have arrived and are spreading their increasingly violent demonstration, those with magical ability are starting to be shunned, for fear they are associated with the wizards. </center>

<center> ~Characters~
Ophelia – played by ~Goldleaf~
Selene – played by ~Goldleaf~
Yawain – played by ~Goldleaf
Casyre – played by Darkheart
Kaelee – played by Darkheart
Erica – played by Darkheart
Dáire – played by Darkheart
Abria - played by Lor en Estel
Trumen - played by Lor en Estel
Unknown - played by Maethoriel
Emiliana - played by Nauriel Rochnur
Oden - played by Nauriel Rochnur
Trälaen - played by Turwaithion </center>

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

I love the way your mind thinks when it comes to RPs! This sounds very cool. Can I join in your fan?

_________________

Thank you very much! Of course you can join, I'll add you to the charrie list

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Yay! Here are my bios.

Name-Abria
Race-Human
Age-20
Gender-Female
Appearance-Adria
Personality-Adria's true personality is not even known to her. She was given no opportunity to discover it. Abria was raised to believe that duty and honor to ones family came first above one's happiness. Her father would constantly lecture her when she was very young about her duty to find a good husband. He was not only to enrich the family in monetary ways, but in power and standing as well. Since she heard them all her life, the idea of putting the family honor before her own happiness is one that defines who Adria is. She was groomed to be poise, elegant, down to reality, and anything else her father thought a man a nobility would like in a wife.
History/Background- Adria was taken on her father's travels from a young age. Seeing the world was her only education outside of pomp and circumstance. Her father did not believe a young lady need know about math, politics, and the affairs that governed the world. Rich men wanted pretty wives not smart one. So most of her childhood was spent learning how to act in different circumstances all around her world.

All this travel had one heavy downside for Adria. Her mother was never aloud to come. In all her years, Adria could count on one hand the times she'd spent atleast a week with her mother. Her father told Adria that her mother was not as civilized a lady as she was. Getting to know her would only hinder her progress. Still, Adria dearly wishes to know her.

Name-Trumen
Race-Human
Age-45
Gender-Male
Appearance-Trumen
Personality- Trumen is a man a good standing and power, but he wants more. He thinks coolly and calculated. He does, however, have a temper. When pushed far enough he will turn violent. That doesn't happen too often.
History/Background- Trumen was raised in a good home and only wanted the best. After marrying who he thought was an upstanding women, he found her to be a daydreamer. She wanted somewhere, someone else. Her mind was on fairness and rights. She was a women! She had no rights. Trumen hid his distaste for her until after she bore him a child. Now, he only sees her when it is absolutely necessary.

Okay, a couple of real quick question. Do you want me to just dive into the story now or wait for more people to join? Second, can Trumen and Yawain know each other before Trumen show's up in the RP?

_________________

I'm in. I'll have my bios up later.

_________________
Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Sounds like fun! I'll have to think up a bio.

Lor: We'll wait to start till everyone has their bios up and are ready, and anyone else who wants to join can jump in And of course Trumen can know Yawain, that'll make a good plotline!

Maethoriel & Nauriel: Welcome aboard! I'll add you both to the list ^_^

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Okay. Here it is!

Name: Emiliana (Emily)
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Appearance: Emily
Personality: Emily is very hard headed and persistent, but is often rash. She can be very sarcastic at times, and despite her noble upbringing, isn't very in touch with her feminine side. She is also not very good at dealing with her emotions, and has often let them get away from her.
History: Emily was raised in a house of good standing. But because the property on which she and her family live is isolated, as a child Emily had a lot of free rein to act as she wished. But as she grew older, her parents (especially her mother) started to groom her for the marrying world. She despises the frivolities of this custom.


Name: Oden
Age:21
Appearance: Oden
Personality: As Emily's best friend, Oden complements her very well. He is more gentled mannered, with an even temper. He takes his time when making decisions. He supplies a very dry style humor.
History: Still not quite sure. I'll have to think about that.

May I join as a Royal Guard, cousin?

_________________


Son of Bellatrix

Banner by Pandora

So...what's happening here?

_________________

Great bios, Nauriel And Tur, of course you can!

Sorry for the wait, folks! I'm afraid we really can't start until Darkheart returns >.< After all, we both invented the RP and it wouldn't be really fair if we began without her! =) I hope everyone still wants to be in the RP, as with all the promising bios this looks like it'll be real fun if it gets started
However we're going to have to wait a bit longer - I hope no one minds too much! I'm itching to get this started

EDIT:
I've just found out that Darkheart's changed her email address here so she's locked out from the forum for a while - I'm glad to know where she's got to, so hopefully she will be back in a while!

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Name: Trälaen
Age: 32
Race: Human
Appearance: Trälaen stands at 5' 10'', and has a powerful build. He is fair-haired and pale skinned, though he has recently aquired a tan, from his work in the south. Trälaen is missing the tip of his nose, and has a small, semi-circular scar on his cheek, though it is partially hidded by his full beard and mustaches. He has a tattoo of the royal seal on both shoulders, denoting his position as a Royal Guard, and is clad is a corselet of steel and an open-faced helm, though these garments are covered by robes made in the royal colours. Trälaen carries a halberd, balesard, and a leather garrote as weapons.
Personality: Trälaen feels an immense loyalty to those he serves, and views protecting Prince Cassyre and his family his mission in life. He is a ruthless combatant, but will show mercy when nessecary, and believes firmly in the good treatment of honourable prisoners. Trälaen views the nobility of Arvaine as a mass of eels. Easily caught, but quick to turn and bite the captors. As Cassyre's personal guard, Trälaen has seen many political ploys come and go, and has come to learn much of manipulation and reading those who kep thier faces hidden. Despite this, Trälaen is friendly to many, and, despite accepting them as little more than the bargaining chips that thier parents have made them, pities and sympathises with the daughters of noble families, all the while watching them for a hint of treason or malcontent.
History: Trälaen spent most of his life as a nomad, serving as a mercenary for the highest bidder. Eventually, he found himself in the service of a rebellious border army. When his employer's tactics came to light, Trälaen deserted to the Royal forces, and, through force of will and skill of arms, became a leading member of the Royal Guard. Since then, he has sworn lifelong fealty to the King, and views Cassyre as he country's greatest hope. When the Druid-Wizards appeared, Trälaen kept an eye on the rumors, apprasing the newcomers, and eventually dismissing them as a mad cult that would eventually die out or be wiped out by the King.

_________________


Son of Bellatrix

Banner by Pandora

(Great charrie, Tur!

Okay everyone, after such a long wait, we can start now! Have fun! The RP begins at Lord Yawain's castle as Prince Casyre is about to arrive )

The household of Lord Yawain was thrown into complete confusion this morning; the lord of the castle had ordered that everyone should make ready for the arrival of Prince Casyre, who would be arriving this very day. That royalty was coming to stay in his home filled Yawain with pride, and more than a little irritation with those around him, who he considered were not trying as hard as they could to prepare. The latest target of his anger was Selene, who stood calmly at the foot of the stairs.
“What do you think you’re doing, just standing there?” he demanded of her as servants rushed about him. “Don’t you think you could do something more useful with your time, perhaps? I’m not paying you to be idle!”
Selene met his gaze with her usual serene, pleasant smile. “My lord, I am your healer,” she replied evenly. “Not your fetch-and-carrier. I have set everything in the healing rooms to rights; your lordship will find that all my duties are in order.”
At that Yawain gave a half-growl, and turned away from her. “Very well,” he said grudgingly. Then he looked over his shoulder with a frown. “Where is Ophelia?”
“Most probably in her room, your lordship. You commanded her to get ready for the arrival of the prince.”
“Well, she had better hurry up!” Yawain snapped. He lifted his head and yelled up the stairs. His voice could well carry over to Ophelia’s room, even through a closed door. “Ophelia!”
A few moments passed. Yawain shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother. She is such a troublesome girl, a burden upon me. I will be grateful when she is married.”
“She has consented to the engagement, then?” Selene enquired smoothly.
“She’ll do whatever I tell her to do,” Yawain said grimly. He turned his head as he heard footsteps on the landing, and a glare took a hold of his features as his daughter appeared at the top of the staircase. “There you are!”
Ophelia walked down the stairs, her expression utterly unreadable. Selene felt a feeling of fondness towards the daughter of the lord of the castle, whom she had known since she was a newborn baby, as she approached her father. Ophelia was clad all in white; her gown was wintry and of silken material, adorned with a silver-and-gold belt. She was unadorned of any jewelry and her blonde hair was let loose to rest around her shoulders. She looked beautiful.
Yawain assessed her coldly. “Well enough.”
Ophelia bowed her head and said nothing. If she remained silent, then there was nothing that her father could hold against her. Whenever she spoke there was always something that he was sure to take offence to. Selene noted Ophelia’s chilly aloofness and felt slightly saddened, though she did not show it. Ophelia had so much spirit, and her father wanted to stamp it out.
Suddenly, a servant came rushing in through the great doors of the main hall, which had been opened to let a fresh breeze in. He had obviously been running and was out of breath. “Your lord… your lordship…” he almost doubled over as he tried to regain his breath. “Lord Yawain!”
Instantly Yawain left Selene and Ophelia and strode over to him. “What is it, boy?”
“The… the prince!” the servant gasped. “The prince! Prince Casyre! He and his men… they’re riding… riding towards the castle, a way across the main road, just off the crossroads… I saw them and came straightaway. They will be here in at least twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes!” Yawain exclaimed. He turned away from the lad and frowned. He walked to the center of the hall and raised his voice. “Everybody, stop what you are doing at once! The prince is coming! To your positions, now!”
He was as fearsome as an army general, and at once everybody rushed to stand as they had been bid, the servants by the walls in lines, the more important members of the household standing in the center, parted into two sections. Selene gracefully moved to the head of them; as the healer of the castle she took prominence. Yawain clicked his fingers at Ophelia, glaring.
“Hurry up, girl!” he demanded. Ophelia walked to stand a little way away from everyone, alone, her head down. Yawain walked closer towards her. “Do you hear me, Ophelia? When the prince arrives I want you to say not a word,” he hissed. “Nothing. When I make your very small, insignificant introduction you will only curtsy, and keep your eyes on the floor.”
Ophelia gave a small nod, biting back the anger and the frustration. She did not dare look at her father, who moved to stand in front of them all. They would wait like this until the prince arrived, and Lord Yawain’s heralds would announce Prince Casyre with as much pomp and ceremony as they could muster. Lord Yawain wanted to show that he could be an excellent host; this was a big moment in his career and he wanted to prove just how well he could keep a member of the royal family in his home. Ophelia, on the other hand, felt only a cold numbness; she could take no pride in the honour which was to be bestowed upon her father. After all, she was only the daughter of the castle. No one particularly important.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Trumen strode proudly to an awaiting carriage. He looked the part of a nobleman with his stiff close and jeweled cane. Adria, his daughter followed slowly behind. The picture of a peacock, Adria flowed forward in an emerald green ball gown. Her father had given her strict instructions to look her best. They were "going to be around the very best company" he had told her. She knew her duty in such situations though really it was the same as her duty in life. Trumen thought only of marrying his daughter to a rick man with good breeding. He would except no other. Adria had heard the speech all her life. She knew what was expected of her.

"Will you hurry, child! We shall be late to the prince's arrival at Lord Yawain!" Trumen muttered under his breath as Adria finally caught up.

"Forgive me father,"Adria said as she moved past and got in the carriage. Her reply got no response, and the carriage started towards the Lord's house.

Seeing that the prince had not arrived, the two guested moved swiftly to join the greeting party. "Lord Yawain, it is good to see you," Trumen said in way of greeting. Adria curtsied then made her way to stand beside Ophelia taking the same position with eyes downcast.

_________________

_________________

(Sorry it took so long for me to get these up. I'll add more as I go. Do you mind if I have a girl in Yawain's place, Goldy? A maid or something?)

Marian Graye
Race: Shifter
Age: 65
Gender: Female
Appearance: Appears to be in her 20's more than likely due to the regenerative ability of her power. Shifts to a red fox, otherwise she is a small lanky woman with an irritatingly knowing grin, amber eyes, and reddish brown hair.
History: Part of a traveling group of magical beings that set up shop in town.

Rolf Netter
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Race: Shifter
Appearance: Dark hair and eyes with light skin. He is tall and well built with black eyes. Shifts into a grey wolf.

Nidoth
Gender: Male
Age: Thousands of years
Race: Rock Dragon
Appearance: Smaller than most dragons as he is built to fit in caves. Dark grey with browns, yellows and the occasional red. About the size of a horse.
History: Taken in by the group/circus after his cave was seized

It was a bright and merry day, at least for the circus that came rolling into the town. Everything about them was colorful and outlandish. Their cart was painted in a bright red with gold accents and had so many colored scarves adorning the top that it was impossible to count them all. It was driven by an elderly woman with a bent back and grey, unruly curls. Her face was worn by the years, but it seemed her spirits remained in tact as her lips were turned up in a pleased smile.

The woman had odd companions sitting next to her - a wolf and a fox, each with a bored look that almost betrayed them. They were planning on a big entrance. Rolf and Marion were good at making a scene, and even better at swindling others out of their money.

Above them could be seen - just barely - what seemed to be a large bird following the caravans. Nidoth weaved in and out of clouds, hitting some on purpose and then he saw the signal. It was impersceptible to those not in the group. The old woman - who was in fact, a very old witch with a propensity towards business - had stopped. The large tobiano gypsy vanner that towed the vehicle stopped its progress and stomped its foot following with a shake of its head.

It was then that everything exploded...well, seemed to. The woman had stood up to her full, and not too impressive, height and snapped her fingers; only a small spark of light from between her fingers suggested that it was strange. Sparks flew from about the caravan and it turned into a tent, a very large tent in fact - and it was made from the multi colored scarves which thickened at their masters order to form proper material.

The caravan was now dwarfed as Nidoth dove down, his wings stretching out to shadow the wooden booth. He landed with a thump leaving small potholes in the ground beneath his feet. His maw opened and a loud sound issued from it like a horn announcing the arrival of loyalty. It did its job though, people had turned to look.

The woman snapped her fingers again and smoke covered their spot out of which leapt a wolf followed by a fox. Neither landed in the same form. The wolf, turned man landed with bent knees and a fist on the ground while his counterpart tumbled in a somersault through the air landing on unshod feet, her arms stretched out as wide as her grin.

"Come on you lot! There is magic to be seen here!" She yelped brightly.

"Come one and all to the most spectacular performance this side of the globe has ever seen," the man said in a smooth voice.

"Have your palms read," Marion barked.

"Try your hands at a weapon against the best, see the most viscious beasts of all time on display" Rolf continued, now striding outward to address a more specific audience - namely young men.

"See a dragon soar over the sky and our acrobats with him! Take a look at exotic mementos," said Marion in an obvious attempt to catch the eyes of women.

"But first," a rumbling voice came from behind them and they turned to it as Nidoth limped forward the dragon had been injured earlier when they picked him up and it was just beginning to heal properly, "buy a ticket here from Madame Matilda," he said inclining his head towards the elderly woman who had taken up a spot in the caravan, now doubling as a ticket booth.

"Children, women, men, all our welcome through our doors!" Marion yelled, pulling herself up over the caravan to stand atop of it and look over the crowd, her ragged and mismatched clothes making her promises hold more weight as if she herself had been to all the places they advertised.

The group then fell out and retreated to the inside of the tent, the only one who remained outside was Madame Matilda who steadfastly believed in taking tickets at once.

"Truely," began Nidoth in his slow and ridiculously lordly manner for his species, "the square seemed to hold naught more than three and twenty. Another town would have better suited our purposes, agree you not my companions?" He asked, laying down on a few bales of hay while Rolf stood and Marion moved about.

"It is as he says," Rolf replied, looking to Marion. The man was quite a bit more taciturn when not on show.

"True enough, Nidoth. Matilda had told me well that this town would be most welcoming to some entertainment," Marion said a frown tugging at her lips. All of them were wondering the same thing - why this town? Matilda had obviously been wrong about it making a profit. The square had barely enough people to even warrant her pause. There had to be another reason, but none of them really wanted to find out. Matilda dealt with dark things, the magic of the circus hardly a passing thought for her.

"Old age may, perhaps, be catching up with her?" Nidoth suggested and as the newest to the group he was the only one who would even consider such a thing.

"No," both Rolf and Marion said at once.

------------------------------

Matilda sat curiously still in her place behind the open window of the caravan. Her wrinkled face even more wrinkled with the smile. She had planned this all out to a tee. First, the prince would be arriving and it may destroy their entrance, but their were enough outside to give word of that and least ways it would parade people by them...not to mention the prince and his guards.

The guards in particular she had found had a penchant for shows such as this. They were a little bit less tasteful than the nobility, but they in themselves helped grow a crowd.

The crowd following the prince could be heard before anyone really arrived and Matilda leaned out the window and whistled shrilly.

----------------

The three strange companions inside the tent were already scrambling at the sound of the approaching din. They were first and foremost performers.

First came Nidoth who lunged forward out of the tent, and stretched his wings wide just in time to bow to the passing prince. At the same time he felt an uncomfortable weight on his scales and then on his head. He growled at Marion who had just outdid him by sliding down his back and onto the ground.

"See anything you like, dear lords?" She asked with a grin and wink towards the prince followed by a similar look to the guards flanking him. "Come and visit me sometime boys! I'll show you how to play the game."

Rolf chuckled as Marion suddenly turned coat from her typical playful and conniving self to something more appealing to men. However, he didn't need to beat them out, as sometimes less was more with those of higher standings.

"There are many things that might intrigue my lords if you should take the time," he said with a grin and a sweeping bow.

_________________
Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me