- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- High fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by modern fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Princess Alyimda Hanisa dom Khalifeh Mosteghanemi was wet. And while there was nothing wrong with soaking in a warm pool with eddies of steam rising around her nude form, it was an entirely different matter to find herself suddenly awoken to a forceful smack to her cheek, her fine dress sopping wet and dripping freezing cold water. There was something hard digging into her back, and she could practically feel the dark mud seeping into her white linen.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes magicked to be the palest blue surveying everything around her. It took her a moment to process what exactly it was that she was seeing. There was a man. And he was on top of her. She let out a sudden, violent shriek as everything from the past few minutes came suddenly flooding back to her, kicking wildly at her assailant before scrambling away from him.
Alyimda had been informed by her uncle on the eve of her eighteenth birthday that the kingdom of Amador had sent a representative, at great personal risk, south across the Great River and into their own kingdom. The kingdom of Amador and her own Ghanemsahad Empire had been at war for hundreds of years, costing thousands of lives and constantly eating away at the desert kingdom's very limited resources. The king of Amador had a young son, a son that he apparently hoped to marry to the Princess of Ghanemsahad and so form an alliance between the two kingdoms, for mutual benefit. It had been Alyimda's duty to agree to the proposition, and she had been escorted out of the palace by a small retinue of soldiers less than a week later.
Of course, none of them had been expected to be beset upon by rebels moments after crossing over the Great River. The loyal servant of her uncle had spirited away the princess in a carriage, leaving her guards to deal with the threat and prevent anyone from coming after them. Her uncle's servant had also provided a glamor at that time, concealing her dark skin and hair behind palest locks and complexion, so that any locals, unaware of the impending peace treaty between the two nations, would not attack her.
Of course, Alyimda was not used to such rough travel, but she did her best not to complain. This was her duty as a princess, she needed to be prepared to do anything for the good of her people. But two days later and she had become remarkably uncomfortable. Her tent and roll had been lost in the attack, and while sleeping in the carriage was far preferable to the ground, it was not a place that was meant to hold a young lady indefinitely. Her uncle's servant did his best to care for her, but he was a man and she was a lady. There was only so much he could properly do. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was so quiet?
As if her trip hadn't already been a disaster, she had found the carriage suddenly coming to a halt in the middle of a bridge. When Alyimda had poked her head out to see what exactly the servant thought he was doing, she had found herself confronted by a long sword, and the gruff and smelly man who was pointing it at her. He forced her, a lady of standing, out of the carriage, and had placed her by the edge of the bridge with her servant.
Bless his heart, the man had tried to save her, even if he hadn't been particularly clever about it. He took one panicked look at the bandits, and promptly shoved her over the edge of the bridge! That might have been alright, except for the fact that the heavy dress she was wearing was not meant for swimming, and quickly dragged her under the water. She had fainted only moments later, for which she considered herself somewhat lucky. She did not want to think about what those nasty men would do to her uncle's loyal servant.
It took her a moment to realize that the man she had rudely kicked upon her awakening was not one of the bandits who had set upon her back up at the bridge. In fact, judging by his rather damp boots, this man had most likely just pulled her out of the river. Alyimda quickly got to her feet, and hurried back over to the man. She kneeled down next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Good sir, I apologize most sincerely. Thank you for saving me from drowning. May I ask your name?"
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes magicked to be the palest blue surveying everything around her. It took her a moment to process what exactly it was that she was seeing. There was a man. And he was on top of her. She let out a sudden, violent shriek as everything from the past few minutes came suddenly flooding back to her, kicking wildly at her assailant before scrambling away from him.
Alyimda had been informed by her uncle on the eve of her eighteenth birthday that the kingdom of Amador had sent a representative, at great personal risk, south across the Great River and into their own kingdom. The kingdom of Amador and her own Ghanemsahad Empire had been at war for hundreds of years, costing thousands of lives and constantly eating away at the desert kingdom's very limited resources. The king of Amador had a young son, a son that he apparently hoped to marry to the Princess of Ghanemsahad and so form an alliance between the two kingdoms, for mutual benefit. It had been Alyimda's duty to agree to the proposition, and she had been escorted out of the palace by a small retinue of soldiers less than a week later.
Of course, none of them had been expected to be beset upon by rebels moments after crossing over the Great River. The loyal servant of her uncle had spirited away the princess in a carriage, leaving her guards to deal with the threat and prevent anyone from coming after them. Her uncle's servant had also provided a glamor at that time, concealing her dark skin and hair behind palest locks and complexion, so that any locals, unaware of the impending peace treaty between the two nations, would not attack her.
Of course, Alyimda was not used to such rough travel, but she did her best not to complain. This was her duty as a princess, she needed to be prepared to do anything for the good of her people. But two days later and she had become remarkably uncomfortable. Her tent and roll had been lost in the attack, and while sleeping in the carriage was far preferable to the ground, it was not a place that was meant to hold a young lady indefinitely. Her uncle's servant did his best to care for her, but he was a man and she was a lady. There was only so much he could properly do. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was so quiet?
As if her trip hadn't already been a disaster, she had found the carriage suddenly coming to a halt in the middle of a bridge. When Alyimda had poked her head out to see what exactly the servant thought he was doing, she had found herself confronted by a long sword, and the gruff and smelly man who was pointing it at her. He forced her, a lady of standing, out of the carriage, and had placed her by the edge of the bridge with her servant.
Bless his heart, the man had tried to save her, even if he hadn't been particularly clever about it. He took one panicked look at the bandits, and promptly shoved her over the edge of the bridge! That might have been alright, except for the fact that the heavy dress she was wearing was not meant for swimming, and quickly dragged her under the water. She had fainted only moments later, for which she considered herself somewhat lucky. She did not want to think about what those nasty men would do to her uncle's loyal servant.
It took her a moment to realize that the man she had rudely kicked upon her awakening was not one of the bandits who had set upon her back up at the bridge. In fact, judging by his rather damp boots, this man had most likely just pulled her out of the river. Alyimda quickly got to her feet, and hurried back over to the man. She kneeled down next to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Good sir, I apologize most sincerely. Thank you for saving me from drowning. May I ask your name?"