Dragons Folly (Brea x neobendium )

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Brea

Edgeknight
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Furry, Yaoi
#1
Participants:
Brea Brea
neobendium neobendium



Plot:
You, dear reader, would play as a human warrior prince. Or a recently crowned king, doesn't matter. He would be ruler of a barbaric nation that has been ravaging nearby kingdoms for years. Their reasoning? Resources. As they grow, their need does too- and anyone who gets in their way is swiftly and unmercifully crushed. Everything else about your character is up to you, though I would prefer if he were a bit cold to mine for a while, borderline cruel even. You'll see why in a minute.

I will be playing as a dragon-human hybrid. Nothing too strange- she'll have wings, a tail, and the ability to create fire, but nothing much else. She will be an heiress to the throne of her small kingdom of Syrinn (which is filled with her species)- which happens to be next on the list of your character's nation.

They don't submit, and war begins. But despite the hybrid's strong will and strong abilities, the humans' numbers are just too much and they are swamped.

Your character could win the war. MC would then be the lone escapee and be caught by yours either stealing from the castle or from a border post. I would prefer your character to catch and fight her himself. Then, once beaten, she would become his servant and be forced to stay with the man that killed her nation. After that, several new possibilities open up. Adventures together, fighting, her bartering for her freedom....all sorts of options. I have more ideas for the endgame if anyone ends up being interested.

Planned I was sort of thinking that while your character's kingdom was being taken over she was captured as prisoner. All of her people slaughtered, making her the last of her kind. She's kept captured for days, until she's brought before the king and queen of my people. My character is just the warrior prince, first in line for the throne. For now she is told she will be his personal servant. To be at his side for all important things (battle, meetings, ect), and to fulfill all of his needs/wants. Making the 'Dragon Princess' a mere servant is a message to everyone in all of the land. If she can be taken down and reduced to nothing, so can they. So they better stay in line, sort of thing.

He's cruel, treats her like scum. Obviously. She's a nothing. They hate each other.

A while later the king and queen (his parents) seem to have come to a new decision. Everyone is brought into the great hall for their announcement. It's decreed she will marry the prince. A joining of the two crowns, if you will. As well of a display of their 'kindness.' With the purpose of making their own kingdom stronger, since a lot of strength can come from people-dragon hybrids.

He doesn't love her, and still treats her like trash. She is still to go to all of the important stuff with him, but this time as his queen-to-be. She's given a servant of her own, as well as lessons on how she's expected to act and whatnot. Still, she's pretty much a prisoner. She has no freedom, and the Prince is tasked with making sure she is always supervised and stays in line. Whether or not they ever find love... I guess we'd just have to see.





  
"The worst thing you can do about a situation is nothing."

Name:
"Named for the kind of ruler I am to be."
. Richard Warrick Tyrell .

Age:
"Each year I get closer to the crown."
. 21 .

Height:
"As tall as my father."
. 5'9'' .

Arsenal:
"I have an entire army at my disposal."
. Go-to weapon, his favorite sword: [IMG]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ac/fd/ca/acfdca05a611055978d876c2a62f437a.jpg[/IMG] .
. His poisoned laced daggers that he keeps in a pocket in his boots and uses in extreme circumstance [IMG]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/24/30/1e/24301ecf57fda78c695cbe0a3b69f737.jpg[/IMG] .
. His armor [IMG]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/22/37/e1/2237e152250a34a3b8318fa8dc543fe7.jpg[/IMG] .
. His Horse, Bentley [IMG]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/75/99/0f/75990fb19f6a4f04c35cb01455c9b849.jpg[/IMG] .

Skills:
"I am a man of many skills..."
Thanks to Richard's realistic thought process he is able to think through problems logically to find the best solution. He is very determined and hard working, always multitasking to get the most amount of work done in the least amount of time. Rich is organized and very observational. He's strong, both mentally and physically He knows how to turn on the charm, and is usually very good at listening. He's good at cooking and has pretty good aim. Ricky is also naturally stealthy, and once he spends some time around a person he learns how to manipulate them- just in case the need ever arises.

Weaknesses:
"... And very few weaknesses."
Richard never learned how to swim, nor does he have any desire to learn. He tends to come off as an asshole, simply because he keeps himself closed off. Richard only really says things he finds worthwhile saying, and so he doesn't talk very much. He also comes off this way because he has a 'Tough Love' way of thinking, and finds it hard to sympathize with most people. That being said, has made a habit of helping people out once he's pointed out how they fucked up. He has a hard time creating close relationships.

Brief History:
"I prefer to look to the future."
Richard was the first born and rightful heir to his kingdom, Vrothage. He was a happy baby, but as he aged Richard took on many of the cold and reserved traits of his father. He wanted to be a successful and powerful king, and with that desire his personality began to change. The next child born to the family, Alexander, came when Richard was two. He can't remember a time without his baby brother following him around their castle. The two shared a close bond, always sparring together and getting into trouble. Though it became apparent at a young age that Alexander was a lot more cruel than Richard was, he could still go to very extensive lengths when need-be.

His sister, Rosalyn, came when he seven. At first she was delicate, but once she could function on her own she became very manipulative and deceitful. The two had never gotten along, and he looks forward to the day she is married away.

Because he was the heir to the throne his father always included him in all aspects of running the kingdom. Richard was never kept in the dark. His father, Lance, believed that if Richard was going to be king he might as well be raised as one. His mother, Arya, disagreed, but alas it was not her decision to make.

When the war for more land began Richard was placed at the head of the army. He was told that if he was going to rule his people one day, he must first learn to lead. Thanks to growing up with a sword in his hand, Richard was a skilled warrior, much more ready for battle than most of his knights.

"Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities."
 

neobendium

Accidental Pyromaniac
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
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Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Most of the time MST
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot, really. Tend to be Aggressive.
Favorite Genres
Mideval Fantasy (LOW fantasy), SciFi, Modern
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm up for mostly anything. But I don't really like voodo and lots of magic. Don't get me wrong, I like fantasy and dragons and stuff....just not the magic part. That's weird to me. And no demons.
#2
"I have learned that dreams lead to death, and that anger must be used as a tool if one is to survive."


Name:
"Named as a royal, by a royal, for a people."
Zariah Thyrule

Age:
"I lived longer than my mother and my younger sister. It's not something to celebrate."
21

Height:
"I'm short. Don't underestimate me."
5' 4"

Appearance:



Two tattoos adorn her upper arms- her left bears a double band of animal teeth, displaying her as a huntress. Her right arm holds the winding silouette of a dragon with four horns on its head, marking her rank in the royal family.

Arsenal:
"I had a family once. Now all that's left is my brother's blade and my own wit."
-Fang-like canines
-Pyrokenisis
-Flight (speed, agility, and stealth)
-Skilled with a naginata
A blade and staff made for both combat and hunting, forged especially for her by her older brother.

Skills:
"A dragon has many talents, but she uses them when she pleases."
-Pyrokenisis
-Hunting
-Unendingly stubborn
-Minor healing abilities learned from her mother

Weaknesses:
"If you choose not to show them, perhaps your opponents will not find them."
-If her wings are damaged too much, she can be grounded for several weeks, or even months.
-Normal human weak spots.
-She's undyingly stubborn, which can be a pitfall as well as a blessing.

History:
"My family and my past are not of your concern. You did not respect them enough to honor a peace treaty- I will not trust you with their names."
Zariah was born fourth in a family of seven- her father was the chief of the small kingdom (not much more than a city, really) of Syrinn, and her mother was a healer. Her older brothers were a blacksmith and a guard respectively. The younger sister, being sickly and frail, became a seamstress, and her delicate embroidery became the envy of all the land. Zariah and her older sister, however, were the huntresses. They provided much of the food their small comminunity ate, and were the model hunters, always being asked to train new, starry-eyed children who wished to contribute to the food pile.

The peace that Syrinn harbored, however, would not last, as barbaric nations rose around them- and with them came their need. Syrinn was stationed in an old, hollowed out volcano, and surrounded by lush forests- a perfect land for resources of all types.

And so the war began, and soon enough it ended, her people swamped by numbers far greater than they could ever hope to muster. With all her family dead or missing, Zariah was left to pick up the pieces, and try to care for the shattered remnants of her kingdom- until that fateful day....



"Honor me with a warrior's death, and bury me in the mass graves alongside my family."
 
Last edited:

neobendium

Accidental Pyromaniac
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Most of the time MST
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot, really. Tend to be Aggressive.
Favorite Genres
Mideval Fantasy (LOW fantasy), SciFi, Modern
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm up for mostly anything. But I don't really like voodo and lots of magic. Don't get me wrong, I like fantasy and dragons and stuff....just not the magic part. That's weird to me. And no demons.
#3
Before the humans, there were dragons. They were mighty and powerful creatures, standing as tall as mountains. Their wings knocked over the trees when they took flight, and their fire burned as hot as a thousand suns. Their scales could be any color on the spectrum from black to white, and the colors shone in the sunlight like gems. Some were wise, others...not so wise. And some were kind, but most were not.

The beasts ravaged the land in search of prey, killing at large the small creatures that called themselves 'humans'. But some protected the funny little things against the others. But this flip-flopping way of life changed when, one day, an ancient dragon named Thyrule the Wise- for his knowledge of the world and everything in it- took an interest in the funny little two-legged creatures. Thyrule had scales black as ebony, spines red as blood, and chocolate brown eyes that sparkled with kindness, and he looked upon the humans with interest.

Eventually, the humans having piqued his interest enough for him to act, he disguised himself and walked among them, learning of their habits and their personalities for many years. He took one as his mate, and she bore him twins- a son and a daughter- but they were not quite human. They were born with the wings and tails of his draconic form, and could create fire in their palms, burning red flames that danced at thier will.

Not everyone was so overjoyed as the strange couple. The children were viewed as demons, lesser than the humans and the dragons both- a mistake. And so Thyrule and his wife, pained that both the humans and the dragons hated their children so, took them away to a secluded place on the large volcanic island of Syrinn.

And so, a nation was born. Eventually, the great dragons had died out, slain by the humans or by each other...but the hybrids remained. Learning from their ancestors, they secluded themselves from humanity. They hunted and farmed, and lived in peace on their island for so long that eventually they had even colonized the dead husk of the large volcano that had once been as mighty as the dragons. The direct descendants of Thyrule watched over the people, and passed down the reign through their bloodline. One could always tell who was one of royal blood- only the hybrids with the black scales and red hair resided on the throne. Nothing, they thought, could ever hurt them.

But all things end, and neverending peace was not to be.
----------------------------
Zariah was not born to be a fighter, but a hunter. She was the fourth child in a family of seven. Her father was the chief, and her mother was the best healer anyone could go to. Her eldest brother was a warrior in their small army, the other brother was a blacksmith, and her younger sister, being sickly and frail, unfit for most physical activity, was a seamstress.

One could think that Zariah would follow in her mother's footsteps, but her father was accepting of her interests, and so it happened that she and her older sister became the huntresses. Rivaled by none in Syrinn, the two descended from the skies like dark lightning and struck down prey in complete silence. Their blades were forged in dragonfire by their brother and kept sharp enough to slice through a hair midair.

Of course, she missed those days out in the woods of the island, she and her sister stalking the prey they would help to feed the rest with. Now? Now the trees were gone, used by the humans to build their walls and their camps and keep their fires going. The prey was depleted.

Her sister was dead.

Most of them were, or at least they were as good as dead.

And even now, the warriors were approaching. The smell of smoke, thick and sickening, rose from the town around her.

Zariah had to become a fighter. She had to grow up, and fast. Thin, pale fingers stroked through the blood-soaked tresses of her mother's black hair- the last touch the two would share- before she stood.

Haunted doe eyes scanned the battlefield. Mangled wings and broken bodies littered the streets of her childhood, and blood contaminated the stream that ran under the bridge. What had this world come to? How had it broken so quickly?

She was still in shock.

Finally, finally, the girl snapped herself out of it as the shouts of soldiers alerted her to the oncoming plunder. She cast an apologetic, grieved glance at the cold, arrow-filled body of her mother, and took off in a sprint. The dragoness ducked under low-hanging, broken awnings, and weaved through tight alleyways in a wild effort to remain unseen by the soldiers. Flying at this point just meant getting shot down. Her only choice was to find somewhere to hide.

Getting captured....it wasn't an option.

It was never an option. The best one could hope for from these...barbarians...was a quick death. Servitude would just mean more torture.

And who knew if any others escaped? As their princess, it was her duty to care for them. Even if there was only one other survivor...she had to take care of that survivor. It was her last remaining sliver of hope.

So, in a frenzy of panic, exhaustion, and starvation, Zariah ducked into a house and slipped into a closet, slamming the double doors shut and holding them closed for a moment before gingerly letting go and backing up. Her breath was quick and shaky, and she was struggling to keep the tears from running down her face. But still, she was ready, with her back against the wall and her naginata gripped in two shaky hands.
 
Last edited:

Brea

Edgeknight
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Furry, Yaoi
#4



By now the young prince had grown used to the aftermath of yet another successful battle. His icy blue eyes swept across the piles of bodies that laid before them. Most were of the human-dragon hybrids, though some were of his own men. The fallen humans had been lit on fire by the monsters they fought, cooked to death within their metal armor. A terrible, gruesome way to go. But, such was war.

Richard's face showed no emotion. This would be his last battle for a while, for which he was very grateful. It'd been so long since he was last home. Since he last slept in his luxurious bed. Since he took a bath in anything other than a freezing cold river. It would be nice to get back to the good life. Though he doubted he'd get to stay home for very long. Just long enough for his father to decide which treaties to accept and which kingdoms still needed proof that Vrothage reigned supreme.

There was smoke everywhere, the ash was still settling. Richard turned to face his tired men, his face taking on a serious sort of look. "Well done men," he congratulated his warriors, raising his sword in the air. "The demons are slain. Now we take what is ours!" This was his reward to his men, his way of keeping them going throughout the war. He allowed them to ransack the city, keeping most of everything that they found for themselves. It was an effective incentive to fight a good fight, as well as earn their favor for when he became king. He did not plan to be challenged because his people hated him. No, Richard would be adored as well as feared.

In response to their Prince's announcement the men all cheered, and then rushed off to find whatever they could. The corners of Peter's lips turned upward ever so slightly. He too went off to look for valuable items, though less enthusiastically than his companions. It was a lot harder for him to find anything he would consider of any value, but he still took the time to look around anyways.

Stepping over burned up corpses and broken down structures, Richard walked through the streets of the small village. It had been a nice idea for them to establish themselves within the volcano, as for the most part they were hidden and kept separate from the world outside. Sadly, their location was also what led to their demise. Richard's foot soldiers took them on the ground, and his archers waited at the top to shoot down anyone who tried to fly away. Ultimately they trapped themselves. Had they lived in a normal valley the hybrids may have been harder to take down.

Richard's personal knight kept to his side, as always. His name was Fabian, and Richard had known the other man almost his whole life. He wouldn't rather put his life in any other person's hands. Despite knowing each other well, neither of the two attempted in conversation. They walked silently throughout the streets, the only sound between them being the ash crumbling beneath their boots.

It was the sound of something slamming that caught Richards attention. He looked to Fabian. "Did you hear that?"

"Probably just one of the men getting overly excited," Fabian suggested. Richard turned in the direction the noise had come from, shaking his head. No, usually when they started slamming stuff around there was yelling to go with it. But this time? Nothing...

"Come on," Richard instructed. He walked into one of the homes, he was sure the noise had come from there. He and Fabian silently crept throughout all of the rooms, hands on their swords in case they needed to draw. They went through the remains of the kitchen, rooms that Richard could only guess were intended for sleeping. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, there were no signs of whatever had made the slamming noise. In the last bedroom Richard relaxed and looked to Fabian, shrugging his shoulders. "Perhaps you were right," he admitted.

However, on their way back out a different sound caught his attention. Quiet, but still distinctive. Someone was breathing heavily, frantically. Richard grabbed Fabian by the shoulder to stop him, jerking his head towards the closet that the noise was coming from. Fabian nodded, and the two silently crept to the doors. As quietly as possible they both drew out their swords, each standing on one side or the other of the closet.

Once they were ready, Richard reached out and threw open the closet door. He and Fabian jerked their swords towards the figure hiding inside. A dragon girl with fiery red hair and pitch black scales. The two had her cornered, ready for whatever she would try to do to escape.

"She's a princess," Richard stated. Now this brought a smile to his face. His head tilted to the side, and he pulled on an expression of mock compassion. "Now how did you slip away? I was so sure you're entire bloodline had been slaughtered first."
 

neobendium

Accidental Pyromaniac
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Most of the time MST
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot, really. Tend to be Aggressive.
Favorite Genres
Mideval Fantasy (LOW fantasy), SciFi, Modern
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm up for mostly anything. But I don't really like voodo and lots of magic. Don't get me wrong, I like fantasy and dragons and stuff....just not the magic part. That's weird to me. And no demons.
#5
There were so many 'if only's.

If only they had built in a better location. If only they hadn't been found. If only she had been better at hiding, better at keeping her breathing steady and quiet.

But dwelling on these things wouldn't help, because now she was trapped.

When the doors had swung open, she almost instinctively charged, but it was the two swords that made her feet still. Huge, scared brown eyes met Fabian's first, then Richard's. Her breathing was still shaky and she quivered, backing even further into the closet.

Then Richard spoke.

And that breathing stopped.

Suddenly, the fear was gone, replaced by the twisted expression one bears when trying to contain their anger. She knew well enough that that compassion was fake- and she didn't much appreciate the reminder of her slain family.

The image of her mother, collapsing back down from the sky in a rain of arrows, flashed back into her mind.

Why was she so afraid?

The dragoness never bothered answering.

With a sudden, animalistic snarl, Zariah sprung. Fire erupted from her right palm, aimed at Fabian's face, and the blade of her weapon was coated with flames from her left. She ran forward, jumping past the swords, and slashed at Richard's chest, the wickedly curved, flaming blade arcing with deadly accuracy through the air.

She wasn't a fighter, or a warrior. She didn't fight with honor.

She was Zariah Thyrule, the huntress, and she wasn't going out without leaving a scar on the man who murdered her nation.
 
Last edited:

Brea

Edgeknight
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Furry, Yaoi
#6




The dragon girl was a fighter, Richard had to give her that. Of course, anyone can prove to be quite violent if pushed just the right way. His eyes widened as fire was shot in Fabian's direction, he was temporarily distracted by his friend's well being. Luckily, Fabian had outstanding reflexes. He dodged her fiery blow for the most part, thought the hair on the side of his head was singed. The sight would have made Richard laugh under different circumstances.

Before he had a chance to react the girl was past his sword, her weapon lodged into the chest piece of his armor. He looked down in slight shock, what kind of metal was her weapon forged of? No time to ask. Richard took a step back and twisted to removed the naginata from his suit. He gasped out in pain as he felt her blade nick the skin that hid underneath the metal, now feeling annoyed. "Why you little..."

By now, Fabian had recovered. He kicked the back of the girls knee, forcing her to the ground. Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed her by the top of the head, snaking his sword around to hold the blade to her neck.

"Hold on," Richard spoke up before Fabian could slice her throat like he had done to at least a dozen of her people just a hour before. Richard left hand pressed against his chest plate, still feeling the pain from the cut she had caused underneath. It wasn't deep enough to be fatal, he didn't think, but it was deep enough to hurt. Slowly and carefully, as not to give her an opening, Richard knelt down and jerked her weapon away from her.

His gaze ran over her before finally stopping at her eyes. "That hurt, you know," He told her, his voice cold. His gaze lingered for a moment more before he looked up to Fabian. "I think I'll keep this one, she might prove to be entertaining," He told his companion. For once it seemed the young prince had found something of value to take home from a battle. "And if not, I'm sure I can find something to do with her," He added, looking back down to her.

Fabian only nodded in response. Richard handed her weapon off to him, and as Fabian stood up Richard took a fistful of her red hair in his hand. Wordlessly, he dragged her out of the house by it, Fabian following close behind and ready in case she tried anything. Once they were outside they caught the attention of all the nearby warriors. They all came over, seemingly excited by the sole survivor of their raid.

Once there was enough of the men around that Richard didn't feel he needed to worry about her escaping he threw her to the ground. "I'd advise against trying to fly away, my archers are still positioned," He warned her, putting his sword away. Then, he looked her directly in her soft brown eyes. "And if you so much as try to flee, I will personally break your wings."

Turning away from her, Richard announced to his crew, "Somebody tie her up and place her on Fabians horse. We move out in five minutes."
 

neobendium

Accidental Pyromaniac
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
Most of the time MST
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot, really. Tend to be Aggressive.
Favorite Genres
Mideval Fantasy (LOW fantasy), SciFi, Modern
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm up for mostly anything. But I don't really like voodo and lots of magic. Don't get me wrong, I like fantasy and dragons and stuff....just not the magic part. That's weird to me. And no demons.
#7
Even as she was kicked down, even as the sword was placed to her throat, and even as her last hope of fighting her way free was weenched from her grasp, that fiery, confident anger never left those brown orbs. As he met her eyes, cold blue clashing with muddy brown, she couldn't help but give the tiniest of smirks. She was confident that she'd be killed- in fact, she was almost hoping for such a thing.

But his next words made her heart drop, and confusion and fear flickered back to life behind the stubborn rage. Keep?

No, no, no. This couldn't be happening.

All she could do was stare at him in shock- at least, in those moments when she could stare at him, because the next thing he did was grab her by the hair. And he wasn't very gentle about it, either. She yelped in pain as he tugged her from the house, her head forced down and her steps quick and clumsy. Then he stopped, and she stopped too, her bloodstained hand struggling to grip his wrist as if that would make the pain in her scalp stop.

Either he didn't like that, or something had happened to make him release her, because the next thing she knew, her head was snapped first back, then forward, and she was sent tumbling to the ground. She landed hard, rolling a few times and finally coming to a stop at Fabian's feet.

She just lay there for a few seconds, panting, one hand clamped on her sore scalp and the other curled against the ground, the still-wet blood of her mother's wounds picking up the ash and dust that lay in the ruins of her homeland.

Zariah met his eyes after a moment, and the anger that resided in them was hot enough to be felt even as he turned away form her to shout orders to tie her up. "Coward,"she snarled loudly, the first words he'd ever hear her speak. Her lips curled up to reveal the sharp fangs nestled in between normal teeth. "You're all cowards. Too afraid to fight by yourselves with no lackeys to save you."

She kept glaring at Richard even as a soldier gripped her by the wrists and forced her into the ground with a knee on her back. And she held it even as another man began to entangle her arms and wings with entirely too-tight ropes.

This one was going to be trouble, and everyone there knew it.
 
Last edited:

Brea

Edgeknight
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
Favorite Genres
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#8


"Coward."

The word echoed off of what remained of the buildings. For a brief moment Richard stopped in his steps, contemplating his next move. Would he allow her to speak to him in such a way? Was it even worth the effort to put her in her place right that second? A smile came onto the young prince's face. If nothing else, at least she was entertaining. A short chuckle came from him before he continued walking away from her, and many of the other warriors followed suit. She could have her temper tantrum for now, in the end she was still his prisoner. He'd already won.

While she was tied up Richard walked through the streets, rounding up his men. It didn't take long, most of them were done looking through all of the rubbish anyways. By the time Richard returned the girl was positioned behind Fabian on his horse. He smiled to her and asked, "Comfortable? Good. We've got a days journey ahead of us."

Richard then climbed onto his own horse, Bentley, who still wore his specially made amour. He whistled loudly and waved up to his archers, his signal for them to round up and meet them outside of the volcano.With a kick of Bentley's side they were off, Fabian riding to his right and the rest of his army following behind. "Let's go home boys," He announced.

His men cheered once more. No doubt many of them were homesick, missed their wives and children. They were likely just as eager as him to return to Vrothage. Outside of the volcano the archers met up with the rest of them, just as planned. Few men had horses- mostly just the important ones- and everyone else kept up on foot. But they were all warriors, nothing any of them couldn't handle.

A few hours later the volcano could no longer be seen behind them, and the sun was getting ready to set. A few of the soldiers began preparing to start up the torches. Richard did not plan on stopping to camp for the night. No, he wanted to get home as soon as possible. The very next place he was going to sleep was going to be his fluffy bed.

Richard glanced over at Fabian and the girl. As usual, Fabian bore a serious expression. Probably just focused on getting home as well. He had a beautiful wife and a little girl who Richard knew would be missing him terribly. The thought of Fabian's family brought a sense of peace to Richard. He was not yet promised to anyone yet, but as a member of the royal family he would be. At this point in time it was looking like he would marry a princess from one of the kingdoms his father decided to forge a peace treaty with. Perhaps he would find out soon, then? He hoped.

His gaze shifted to the girl sitting on the back of Fabians horse. Her ropes were still tight, he could tell. They'd probably leave marks on her fair skin. He might even feel bad for the girl, if she wasn't an abomination. "What's your name, Hybrid?" He asked her suddenly. He couldn't just keep on calling her 'the girl.'
 

neobendium

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#9
The prince had ignored her- no, he'd laughed at her- but she couldn't really do anything about that, could she? And so the silent journey began. Zariah, a bit bruised and bloody by the time she was hauled over to the horse, was lifted onto a steed that was no more happy to see her than she was to see it. She didn't even know how to ride a horse- dragon hybrids didn't need to subject another creature to the duty of carrying them. They had wings.

But she wasn't in control, and neither was the horse, and that was the one thing that bound the two- they were both prisoners.

Hours passed, and once in a while the dragoness would cast anxious, grief-filled glances back at the swiftly disappearing husk of her people's homeland. She wondered if anyone else was still alive, if the civilians that had run as the war had started were still safe somewhere.

Her head, heavy with exhaustion, nodded a few times, but somehow she managed to keep herself awake on the long, stressful, and admittedly slightly boring journey to her captor's residence. Still, her eyelids were drooping with the sunlight, and she had stopped twisting in her bonds.

Richard's voice startled her from her sleepy stupor just as she felt herself slipping into sleep for the fiftieth time that hour, and she jumped, her eyes flying open and her shoulders tensing. She stared at him a moment, as if trying to figure out what he had said, when the words clicked in her mind.

Her name. He was asking her name.

She narrowed her eyes at him and nibbled lightly on her swollen bottom lip before finally answering. Her voice was cold and tight, and she didn't break his gaze. "Zariah Thyrule, fourth in line for the kingdom of Syrinn," she answered curtly. Her chin was high and she stared him boldly in the face. As far as she was concerned, she need not respect a murderer, no matter how high his rank.

She was no longer almost asleep.
 

Brea

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#10


A look of amusement gleamed in Richard's eyes as he watched her jump at his question. She'd been surprisingly silent for their journey so far, so it only made sense that she would be dozing off. Why she was being so quiet was beyond him, based on what he had seen from her in the volcano he thought she'd be intolerable.

"Well, not anymore, huh?" He said in response to which place she held in line for the throne. She she was the youngest of the royal family, he guessed. That would explain her attitude. Much like his sister, who was the youngest of his family, Zariah came off a bit brattish. Though, the downfall of her kingdom, if you could even call that, may also play a part.

Zariah, he repeated in his head. He could change it, if he'd like. Hell, Richard could do just about whatever he wanted. But, he actually quite liked the name. It had a nice ring to it, and looking at her now he felt as though it fit. She can keep it.

"Are you thirsty?" He asked her, his voice monotone. He wasn't really concerned about her, but it would be no fun if she died of dehydration before they could even get home. Not even really listening to her response Fabian twisted to hold his canteen up to her mouth. He poured water over her lips, leaving it up to her to drink it or not. "Thank you Fabian, always such a gentleman."

Heaving a sigh, Richard turned his gaze to the front of him again. They still had about sixteen hours ahead of them, give or take. Oh, how he wished he could snap his fingers and be there already. This was his least favorite part about leading a war. The traveling. Everything else he could manage, most things he was even great at. But the migrating from here to there was just killer.

"I am bored," He announced to Zariah, though he did not look in her direction. "Entertain me." Still thinking about how he wished he could get home faster, Richard remembered his captor's wings. They seemed like strong things. "Tell me, Zariah, how fast can you fly?" He wondered out loud. He'd never want to be one of her kind, but he also wouldn't hate being able to fly.
 

neobendium

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#11
"Not anymore, huh?"

Those words served as a painful reminder, and her glare grew ever harder even as he asked if she were thirsty. She was, to be quite honest, but she was still debating wether or not to stop suffering or to keep being stubborn when the knight in front of her twisted around and began pouring water on her lips.

In her initial shock, the only thing she could do was open her mouth. And it would turn out to be a good thing in the end, because she hadn't had a drink of clean water in what seemed like days. Even the meager droplets that she was offered eased her dry throat.

She thought that was the end of it. Now that she was awake, she could begin to plan her escape. Well...if that was even a possibility. She had an entire army at her back, and they weren't on her side. Would she even be able to get out of the ropes in time to take off?

But, as it turned out, Richard was bored, and he had decided to torment her further with small-talk.

At his question, Zariah turned to look at him. She was silent for a good few seconds, debating with herself wether or not she'd ignore him or answer. Finally, she decided on a good middle ground. Something that would annoy him- but not enough to make him make her life more miserable than it already would be. At least, she hoped. "Faster than you," she snapped in response, turning away from him again to stare straight ahead at the darkening trail.

Her brown eyes had taken on a slightly luminescent sheen as the darkness descended upon the land, revealing her to be even more different from the humans that held her captive.
 

Brea

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#12


In response to Zariah's comment Fabian let out a low chuckle, earning him a look of warning from his prince. She had spunk. He liked that. But too much of it would prove extremely irritating. She was walking a very fine line. Fabian's chuckle came to a cease, and he coughed nervously.

"I think you're wasting your time with this attitude," Richard remarked, reaching up and rubbing one of his eyes. He was tired, but he would get through it. "No matter what you say we're still going to be stuck here with me. Might as well try to enjoy some conversation." Richard looked over at her, a slight tilt to his head. "Or not. Up to you, really."

Richard could manage his own boredom if she was just going to be a little bitch. He'd been away at war for long enough to come up with a few little games to keep him from getting spiritless. Richard reached for his own canteen and took a swig of water.

His men behind him began lighting the torches to keep their path lit enough. He knew it would start getting cooler soon. At some point he would have to stop for about ten minutes, during which he would allow his men to use the bathroom and adjust their belongings if need be. He'd probably take the opportunity to care for Bentley. A while longer, Richard decided with a brief look over his shoulder. They didn't look like they needed a rest quite yet.
 

neobendium

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#13
Wasting time? Perhaps. But he had time to waste, didn't he? A few more hours, at least.

"Conversation."Her words came out as a scoff, but she didn't meet his eyes this time. "Is that what you normally do after murdering hundreds of innocents?" Zariah's voice was tight, and it cracked slightly, but wether that was from emotion or from dehydration was hard to tell.

He would have to forgive her- at least, if he understood basic emotions, he'd have to- the girl had just watched her family and friends be slaughtered over the course of the last few months. She had held her mother's cooling body in her arms just hours before, and was now expected to make conversation with the man who had ordered her shot down.

She snuck a glance at Richard, struggling to keep her tears contained. She was grieving, and those emotions alone hurt far worse than any physical pain caused from the rough treatment and the tight ropes.

The dragoness couldn't understand it. How could someone be so...flippant....about killing so many? How could he act as if she should be perfectly fine after something so traumatizing?
 

Brea

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#14


Richard had to consider her question before answering. When she put it like that she made him seem heartless. Which wasn't exactly true. He considered himself to be more merciless than anything else. Most of the people he conquered had a chance to surrender themselves to Vrothage and refused. He didn't think her people had been given a choice, though. It wouldn't be a surprise if they hadn't, his father had always regarded their species as an abomination. They weren't natural.

"Sometimes," Richard finally said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "When Fabian here has something to talk about."

"I am just tired, my prince," Fabian said in response to being mentioned.

"As are we all," Richard mused with a slight nod. "The truth is I think my friend and I have run out of things to talk about, thus we've had fewer conversations after battle lately. I was hopeful that you would offer some new variety."

By now Richard had heard all of Fabians stories, and vice versa. They'd spent nearly every minute together for months now, with the exception of when one needed to relieve themselves. That was another thing Richard was looking forward to; getting away from all of these people he'd been around. Get a break from the same old conversations he'd been subjected to for weeks. He imagined his family would have fresh stories for him when he returned home.

And, he would have plenty of stories to tell too. Of his victories on the battlefield, of how well he was leading his army. Of the dragon girl he intended on toying with for a while. He was eager to see what his father had to say about his heir. All good things, he hoped. He'd been working very hard.
 

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#15
All Zariah could do was stare. She couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that this man could be so frustratingly calm after the war that had just raged. He'd watched people be torn apart, watched them burned alive and those who had burned them shot from the skies, just as she had. Yet he could have the audacity to try and hold a normal conversation?

She wasn't buying it.

The dragoness shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes steadily forward, trained at the back of Fabian's head. "I just watched my home burn to the ground after your men slaughtered everyone I've ever known and loved." Her voice was surprisingly calm, although there was an edge to it that warned of something snapping if he were to push her further, and it was escalating into a slight growl. "So you'll have to forgive me if don't feel much like holding a conversation."

The last words were ground out from between gritted teeth, her voice strained, as if trying to hold itself steady.

She wouldn't meet his gaze this time, just stared straight ahead with a clenched, quivering jaw and wet eyes. No tears rolled down her face yet, but it was getting closer with every push.
 
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Brea

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#16


Oh, that was right. She was probably grieving. Richard had been around so much death at this point that he forgot what it could do to people. He was used to it. Though, if one of his own family members died... The thought brought a frown to his lips. He may be cruel, but he wasn't entirely heartless. She may be a monstrous abomination, but she seemed to posses basic human emotions. He could be sensitive to that... for the time being, at least.

"Fair enough," was all the prince said to her before turning his attention back to the path ahead of them. A hour later they made their first pit stop, and Richard took the time to piss, hydrate his horse, and pull out a blanket to wrap himself in. By now most of the men carried blankets with them for the cool nights. Zariah was not offered a blanket, mainly because there weren't any to spare, though Richard could see that Fabian considered sharing his with her. His friend was known for being a lot more compassionate.

The next pit stop came after sun rise, Richard repeating the same things as before with the exception of putting the blanket away as apposed to pulling it out. With the sun back in the sky there was no need for an extra layer. During this stop Fabian also gagged Zariah with a piece of cloth, to keep her from making any kind of noise once they arrived at Vrothage. When the crew began their walk again Richard noticed a lot of them were dragging their feet.

However, as soon as Vrothage came into view everyone perked up. Behind him Richard could hear the excited chatter of his men, all of them eager to finally be home. His face was blank, but the sound of his men happy made him happy. Every now and again he would catch little snippets from someone behind him, about how excited they were to see their family. He was excited, too.

And then finally, finally, they were on their home ground. Marching through the outer farms, and then through the streets of their city, until they arrived at the gates of the castle. Trumpets signaled the return of their prince and his army, and the massive doors were pulled open to let them in. They continued excitedly all the way to the great hall, where Richard's family and their court were all waiting for them.

"Welcome home Prince Richard," His father announced once everyone was settled into the massive room. Richard got off of his horse and met his parents at the bottom of a short staircase to give them a hug. "Tell me, how were your travels?"

"I am sure you have heard of all of our victories," Richard replied, speaking loud enough for his army to hear him. They did most of the work, and he planned to be the kind of king that gave credit where it was due. His men erupted in cheers, earning a hearty laugh from his father.

"I hope you did not suffer too many hardships," His mother said, her voice as soft as he remembered. It was a nice change from all of the war cries he'd been hearing as of lately.

"Nothing we couldn't handle," Richard replied with a smile. With a nod, Richard's father, Lance, went back up to his throne. There, he delivered a short speech, congratulated the warriors, and told them where they could pick up their earnings for all of their hard work. Richard tuned all of it out, as it did not apply to him. At the end, all of the men began to file out, clearly excited to just get back to their homes.

"Father," Richard said once everyone began to leave. "I want to show you what I've brought." On that note Fabian got off of his horse, revealing the girl who had been sitting behind him, hidden from the royal family's view. To his surprise, all of their smiles dropped.

"Why have you brought that here?" His father questioned, the shock and worry clear in his voice.

"She is the sole survivor of her kind," Richard responded, hardly fazed by their reactions. "Truly a one of a kind."

"What do you intend to do with it?" His younger sister asked, starting her decent down the stairs and towards them. She, at least, seemed interest in the dragon girl.

"Why, she is my property now," Richard said as though it was obvious. "I intend for her to be my personal servant. My prize possession and reward for all of my triumphant so far. No one else will have anything like her in the world." Richard turned to beam at Zariah, feeling even more proud now that he could present her to his weary family.

"Your servant?" His mother questioned. "Boy, don't you know who she is? Look a that hair, the scales. She must have been a part of their royal court. She's probably never served a day in her life."

Richard simply shrugged. "She'll learn." He turned to look to his father, who was still clearly hesitant. "People will talk of her, and all of our enemies will know what happens to those who appose us. Even those of royal bloodline will not escape our wrath."

The two stared at each other intensely for a very long moment, and Richard didn't even notice he was holding his breath the entire time. Finally, his father gave a single nod of his head. "Very well, then. Where do you plan to keep it?"

"In the dungeon for now. With time she can earn herself a proper room." Richard said, turning to look at her once more. He realized at this time that both of his siblings had closed in on Zariah while he was distracted. While Rosalyn was still a few steps back, Alexander had no fear whatsoever. Richard watched as Alexander reached up to grab a lock of Zariah's vibrant hair.

"Hey," Richard said, coming over to his sibling. "Hands off, she's mine."

Alexander seemed genuinely surprised by this. "Oh, come on Ricky," He complained as he dropped his hand, using Richard's family nickname.

"Mine," Richard simply repeated. With a roll of his eyes Alexander stepped away and Richard turned to Fabian, who was still waiting patiently. "Find her a cell to wait in for me, will you? And then you can go see your family. Tell them I say 'hi,' by the way." With a nod Fabian got to work on taking her off the horse.

"How will you ever control her?" Rosalyn asked, eyeing Zariah curiously. "Keep her from flying away?"

"Why, with a chain and collar, of course," Richard replied. "Actually, I should go see our blacksmith about that..."
 

neobendium

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#17
The night was cold and damp, and Zariah's fingers and ears had turned blue from the cold by the time the sun finally peeked over the horizon. While he didn't share his blanket, Fabian had at least allowed her to lean farther against him, the soft cloth softening the otherwise uncomfortable metal of his armor and allowing her to keep part of her front side warm.

It was then that they stopped, the blanket was put away, and Richard approached with a peice of cloth. She had eyed him suspiciously and opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, when he grabbed her by the hair once more, forced her head down toward him, and shoved that cloth into her mouth before releasing her. Then, almost as an afterthought, he used a peice of cord to tie the gag in place.

She just glared at him for a solid five minutes, her face red with humiliation and anger. It wasn't as if she'd been talking.

Hours passed, the troops marched on, and Zariah was struggling to stay awake. The sun beat downon her, warming her, and while that sensation was welcome, her dry mouth and thirst were not. But she couldn't really say anything about it. Would her captors even care?

She was awake by the time they got into the city, and had shrunk down behind Fabian as they marched in. She caught a few dirty looks from the townspeople, but for the most part it seemed as if they were searching more for the soldiers that lived in their household than for a random capture.

The horse stopped moving, and Fabian sat straighter, hiding her small, slumped form from view of the royal family as the speech was made. It was long and boring, and Zariah was more worried about what was in store for her now that they were at the castle. Even as the speech ended and the soldiers filed out, she wasn't truly paying attention. At least, not until those words.

"I want to show you what I've brought."

When those words were spoken, it was almost like a hammer had hit her in the gut. Fabian got down from the horse, revealing exactly what the prince had dragged home. And their following conversation just proved to her that Richard thought of her as nothing more than a possession. She couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he got tired of her and just left her in the dungeons to rot, as if she were a toy eventually discarded by a spoiled child.

She had avoided all their eyes and just kept hers focused on the saddle in front of her. Was there even any point in looking at them right now?

Then Alexander approached, and he reached up to grab her hair. With an alarmed, angered glint in her eyes, she leaned away from him. Now she was happier than ever that she'd kept the locks short. What with this family's habit of seizing her by the hair, it was a wonder she wasn't bald already.

The rest of the conversation passed in a haze, and all Zariah could do was listen. She was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, and her naturally petite build wasn't helping with the starvation. Her bones jutted out of her skin, and her vibrant hair, while not exactly dull, didn't look too healthy. Fabian reached up to take her down from the horse, snagging her under the arms and lifting her off before setting her gently down on the ground. Her legs, weak and wobbly from the hours-long ride and lack of food and sleep, gave out and she collapsed against him as if she were drunk for a moment before she regained her footing.

As Fabian led her away, his hand clamped firmly against the back of her neck, she heard ever so clearly how the prince would keep her from escaping. A collar.

As if she were a dog, Richard was going to put her in a collar.

Zariah didn't even have the energy to react other than a sharp glare sent in his direction and a mad flushing of her face, but she didn't even know if he'd seen it before she was swallowed away by the castle's halls.

The walk to the dungeon was long and arduous, and Fabian's metal-clad hand never wavered in its positioning on the nape of her neck. But finally they reached to top of the stairs. It was there that she first balked. Zariah had always been claustrophobic, and had never given in to pushes to explore the various caves that pockmarked Syrinn's land. The Dragon girl planted her feet and twisted around to look pleadingly at the knight, but he just gave her a firm look and pushed her, nodding silently to the winding staircase.

She gave in, but the lower they descended the narrow staircase, the faster her breathing became, and Fabian seemed hesitant to make her keep walking. Still, they had to. Floor after floor passed, each one full of the unfortunate souls that were deemed as the scum of that nation. Finally, they came to a floor with a free cell. Well, more accurately, all of them were free. It was newly excavated, the strong iron bars freshly installed and the locks smooth and unrusted.

Fabian led her to a cell in the middle and ordered the guard over. The man unlocked the door and silently handed the key to the knight, stepping away from Zariah as quickly as he could. Richard's friend, much more gently than the prince would have, took the dragoness to the corner of the room and sat her down on the pile of straw that would serve as her bed.

The first thing he did was chain her right ankle to the wall. There was a cuff in the cell and everything, already attatched to the smooth stone walls. He had grabbed her bare foot and pulled it toward him, locking the cold metal firmly around her ankle and tugging on the chain to make sure she was secure.

The second thing he did was take off her gag. Zariah held perfectly, deathly still as he untied the rope and pulled the cloth from her mouth, then tossed both of them to the side outside the cell. The dragoness expelled a shaky breath and stretched her jaw. The muscles had grown tired of being forced halfway open, and her mouth was dry and bitter-tasting.

Fabian stood and made his way to the door, but her eyes, innocent and afraid and grieving all at once, seemed to make him stop for a moment. Finally, with a grumble and a curse under his breath, he moved back to her side and reached for the ropes that bound her. "You have to promise me you're not going to attack," he stated firmly, looking her in the eyes seriously.

"Promise," Zariah answered. Her voice was hoarse and tired and raw, but there was a broken softness to it that seemed to reassure the man that she wasn't any danger at this point.

And so the man cut the ropes, releasing her from her bonds. Her skin was red and raw in places where it had rubbed, and her wrists were bloody from her struggling. True to her word, Zariah did not attack him once the cursed ropes were removed, and just curled in on herself, rubbing her wrists as her wings unfolded and wrapped around her like two scaley blankets. With a heavy sigh, Fabian unclipped his canteen from his belt, set it on the floor next to her, and left.

The door clanged behind him, and the lock clicked. The key was passed to the door guard. Both men stepped outside and the solid wooden and metal prison door slid shut, sealing the girl in the prison floor by herself, locked in an iron and stone cage that tasted exactly the opposite of the skies of home.

Zariah drank, and then she broke.

The huntress slumped down on the straw pile and clucthed the thin blanket to her chest, finally allowing her raging emotions to crack through her wall of anger. Tears of fear and grief streamed down her face, and she enveloped herself in the confines of her own wings, as if pushing herself into an even smaller ball would hide her from the tons of metal and stone that kept her trapped in this cursed cell, and keep her from the view of her captor.

Eventually, the girl fell asleep, completely spent from the end of the battle and the long journey, as well as the emmense stress and grief that she'd been submitted to in the last couple of days. It could only get worse, she was sure.

And so it was that Zariah Thyrule, the princess turned slave, was left in her slumber on the straw pile, waiting for her captor and self-proclaimed master to return with his next instrument of torture. She was still asleep when Richard entered the dungeon.
 

Brea

Edgeknight
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I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
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Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Furry, Yaoi
#18


Cold, blue eyes watched as Fabian led Zariah away, trying to work all of the details out in his head. She would probably have to get her measurements taken for the collar. Was there a way to attach her leash to him so that his hands could be free? He would have to talk to the blacksmith about the possibilities.

For now, Richard was just eager to get settled in. He confirmed with the king that his presence was not required and then departed to his personal chambers. It was on the third floor of their castle. The curtains in his room were already drawn back when he entered, clearly the servants had anticipated his arrival. It was also clean, making it clear that the maids hadn't gotten lazy about their duties in his absence. Good, he would hate to have to punish one of them.

Richard just laid in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. As he allowed his muscles to relax for the first time in weeks he realized just how sore his body was. He'd been pushing himself for so long, this little break from battle was needed. He laid there for hours, listening to the sounds coming from outside through his cracked window.

Finally, as the sun began to set, there was a knock on his door. "Enter," He simply hollered, not bothering to even sit up.

A small female servant entered the room, staying by the door. "The king and queen have requested your presence for dinner, your Highness," She announced, her hands clasped before her.

"Very well," Richard responded, still staring up at the ceiling. After a moment he realized that she was still standing there, and so to dismiss her he added, "Thank you." Getting the hint, she quickly and quietly left the room. Richard lay there for a while longer before finally getting up from his bed. He walked over to his closet, finding a nice outfit already laid out for him on the couch inside. He took off his dirty clothing, pulling on the nice and clean ones. A smile formed on the young mans face, it had been so long since he wore clothing so soft. And it smelled nice, too.

Before long Richard was sat between his father and his brother at the dinner table. Most of their time was spent talking instead of eating. Richard would share a war story here, his father would catch him up to speed on the politics, his mother informed him of the new things going on within the family. Alexander had taken up archery while he was gone, and Rosalyn had started learning about politics. While she would never run their kingdom, it was likely she would be married away to some other prince, and it was important she understood the basics of running the kingdom when she went. Wouldn't want to embarrass their with her cluelessness.

Alexander asked Richard to spar with him after dinner, but he declined. He'd partaken in so much sword fighting while he was gone, he just wanted to relax for the night. At that point Richard retired to his chambers. He stood on his balcony, watching the river in the distance for quiet some time. He had no clue what time it was when he finally crawled into his bed and drifted off to a happy sleep.

When his wake up call came in the morning Richard almost ignored the servant. He wanted nothing more than to stay in his bed all day. But, he remembered Zariah, and knew he had much to do. Heaving a sigh, Richard pulled himself out of his bed and went to bathe. He took his time, enjoying the warm water. It'd been so long since he was able to enjoy such a luxury.

Again, his clothing had been laid out for him. His servants used to dress him, but when he was a teenager he grew tired of that. He never saw the point in allowing someone else to put his clothes on him, he still had to do most of the work. Once Richard was dressed he made his way down to the dining hall. His family had already eaten, but the chefs were still there, awaiting his breakfast request. Two eggs, three slices of ham, wheat toast. A dish of fruit was positioned on the dining table, and he munched on that until his food was brought to him.

Once he was finished, Richard made his decent down into the dungeon, with a plate of food for Zariah in hand. Nothing fancy. One egg, one small piece of toast, and a piece of ham- which she only got because he had grown bored of the ham and decided to give her his last slice. There was no point in letting it go to waste.

Richard walked down the winding staircase at a steady pace, until he arrived at her cell. He was pleased to find that there was a guard positioned outside, in case she had found a way past the metal bars. Probably ordered by his father, since he hadn't thought to equest twenty four-seven surveillance on her. The guard opened the door for him after a short bow, and Richard entered the cell swiftly.

Looking around, he could tell it was recently refurbished. Good, she needed a high quality cell to keep her caged in, he was sure. She was sleeping on a pile of straw. He looked her over, noticing the red marks on her otherwise clear skin, left over from yesterday's ropes. Her ankle was cuffed and attached to the stone wall.

After clearing his throat Richard loudly announced, "Alright, up, let's go." He went over and put her plate of food down on the ground, beside Fabian's canteen. Of course he would leave it for her, he was such a softy. Richard's gaze remained on the dragon girl, she only had a few moments to be up and eating before he would grow impatient.
 

neobendium

Accidental Pyromaniac
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
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Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
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Most of the time MST
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Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Depends on the plot, really. Tend to be Aggressive.
Favorite Genres
Mideval Fantasy (LOW fantasy), SciFi, Modern
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm up for mostly anything. But I don't really like voodo and lots of magic. Don't get me wrong, I like fantasy and dragons and stuff....just not the magic part. That's weird to me. And no demons.
#19
The squeaking of the door and the smell of food broke Zariah from her slumber, and the girl cracked open one eye slightly. She almost expected to see the light wooden walls and woolen blankets of her room back at home, and to feel the soft touch of her mother shaking her from sleep. But that reality was broken now. Instead, she was met by cold stone walls and iron bars and prickly straw, and a gruff voice commanding her up.

For a moment, she didn't remember what had happened during the previous day, and when her slowly opening eyes were met by the chain on her ankle and the man standing over her, she shot up and back in a panic. Her hand lashed out, throwing the blanket at his face, and her wings flew into action, shielding her face and torso from the man. Her back slammed into the bars behind her with a clang, and the chain rattled against the floor as she pulled her knees up to her body.

After a few seconds, she seemed to realize where exactly she was, and what had happened. Her wings lowered and she stared at him with an expression of both apology and fear. Throwing a blanket in the face of one's captor probably wasn't a good idea.

Her dark eyes flicked from his face to the bars of her cage, then to the food and the canteen. Oh, right.

Food.

She swallowed as her stomach grumbled and she glanced back up to Richard with a wary look. Was this for her?

Did she even want to eat? The trauma of the last few days had taken away her appetite, and while she was hungry to the point of starvation, she didn't really want to consume any food.

Her hair was messy and straw clung to the tangled red strands, and her simple tribal clothing was stiff and wrinkled from slumber and dried blood. Her feet, still bare, were dirty, and the marks that the ropes had left were faded but visible. Her wrists were scabbed. She looked....defeated.

The fire that had previously resided in those brown eyes had faded and she just looked tired and muted. She kept staring at him warily, waiting for him to tell her what to do. It would be no good to just start eating, not when she didn't know what to expect from him yet- and especially since her first action had been to throw something at him. Her breathing, previously panicked and quick, was slowing, but it wasn't quite steady yet.
 
Last edited:

Brea

Edgeknight
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
My Usual Online Time
Whenever I'm not working. Work schedule depends on the week and season. More active at night.
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I suppose I'm both Passive and Aggressive. It just depends on the roleplay.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Romance, Supernatural, Fandom, Modern Fantasy, Dystopian, Some Anime's, Mature
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Furry, Yaoi
#20


Richard watched as a look of panic crossed Zariah's features. He didn't have any time to react when she threw her blanket at him, and as the blanket collided with his face he felt a wave of frustration wash over him. Was she really this stupid and impulsive? He reached up and grabbed the blanket, holding it at his side. When he looked back to her she was cowering behind her wings.

His face held no emotion as he watched her slowly collect herself, blue eyes following the movements of her wings. She may be an abomination, but he couldn't help but think how stunning her dragon features were. The color of the scales, the intricate design they formed, the danger she held within them. She was beautiful in the same way that a wolf was beautiful.

At the same time, she also looked a mess. To think of it, he hadn't yet seen her put together. She didn't exactly look right when he found her either. Frantic, angry, heartbroken. Still, looking at her, he was sue she could be a very attractive woman if given the chance. Finally, his eyes met hers. He could see how broken she was. Good, that'll make today much easier.

"I should take away your blanket privileges," He warned her, his voice deep. He threw her blanket back at her chest roughly. "Don't let that happen again." He planned on treating her very cruelly, hoping that would help her learn quickly. As far as she was concerned his word was law, and the sooner she accepted this the easier things would be. Hell, he might even reward her with a proper bed.

"What are you waiting for?" He questioned her harshly, using his left hand to gesture to her food. "You better eat, we've got a lot of things to get done today and I don't need you to be out of it due to starvation." With a roll of his eyes Richard turned away from Zariah and went to the guard, who stood in the doorway of her cell. "Find someone to get my steed ready, "He ordered him.

Then, as an after thought, he added, "And lock me in here with here while you're gone. If you come back to find me dead, be sure my father knows execution will not be a proper punishment for her. He must find a way to truly make her suffer." The guard nodded and locked the cell before running off to complete his task. At this time Richard turned back to Zariah to make sure she was eating.