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Author Topic: M for F - Restoration of the flames  (Read 546 times)

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Offline Bedroom LazarusTopic starter

  • A desire that burns the soul, a crucible that forges desire into lust and torment into exquisite surrender.
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M for F - Restoration of the flames
« on: June 10, 2018, 09:37:12 pm »
This is my brain at work, writing and fine tuning an idea for play.  This is territory I'm always interested in and at the same time am never sure gets brought to its full potential.  An RP regarding sex, slavery, war, restlessness.  It would involve a lot of world building between me and the partner I'd play with.  My mind is to restless to not enjoy spinning the finer details.   For those familiar with the setting right now my brain is putting it in a similar situation to the dragon princes of the exalted RPG setting but placed in a Roman and western European context.  The race of the person he is going to meet is up to you to a degree.  Looking for something human, some exotic features are fine but flesh not fur is the name of the game.  I'm rambling, just read below to figure out the context.

It is the year 432 DI,  for centuries the Leonidrian wars had blazed across the Imperium's borders.  The grasses of the frontier had grown red as they fed off the last gasps of life.  War was the industry on which the Imperium blossomed its shadow falling over a full third of the continent.  As foreign nation's buckled, Leonidrian's influence spread.  With it came codified laws to govern, roads that flowed like spidering veins from its core to its outer reaches.   With this came all the benefits of trade, religion, culture and the protection of the Imperial legions.  From its new found tributaries it asked for its due, paid for in coin, goods, food and flesh.  It was the last of these that had brought myself and my master to markets of Pelhem this day.

The law of the Lash.  Those who are taken in the act of conquest, rebellion are deemed property of the Emptire.  Those who cannot pay the taxation levied to them shall have members sold into slavery until such coin is raised that the debt is settled.  The child of a child of property of the Imperium is to be taken and raised among the plebian class of the Imperium and may enlist in her service so he or she might be allowed true citizenship.  Those born of the nobility are seperated in case they manifest.

The docks were far busier than the norm, the campaign against the Sylvan Theocracy of the Shimmerwood had yeilded a fresh crop of The Radiant.  The fey had proved themselves incredibly tenacious over the years of conflict.  A combination of unparalleled lifespan had led to martial expertiese mixed with a sinister command of the supernatural.  These were the proud and the largely unbroken.   They were the Elves, the Dryads and the Fairy. The Elves were slight, haughtyness  wrapped in pale, translucent silks that cleaved to their lithe frames, hiding next to nothing yes just concealed enough to tantalize.  Next had come the Dryads, only younger ones proved viable to take alive, having had their trees dug from the earth and now being paraded in great carts pulled by teams of massive oxen, roots still submerged in the mounds of soil from their homeland.  They had uncharacteristically large eyes with patterns of fine bark running up the front of their arms and up along their lengthy legs of otherwise pale flesh, hair colored by the season of their choosing with some showing blossoming of small flowers twined within. The dryads cared less about the covetous eyes that watched them in their softly luminescent nudity, transfixed instead with wrapping themselves around the wooden housing of their souls.  Finaly there were the fairies were placed in small glass spheres suspended from the limbs of the Dryad trees, flittering too and fro on translucent wings that threw off small trails of rainbow hued sparks that left a trail in their wake.  They seemed forlorn, small voices singing dirges of the fallen as they pressed themselves to the glass and watched us, watching them.

For those who might wish a physical description, my lord, the Prince of Vallia was a man aged into his middle years his bearing having the stiff posture that came with military life.  It is imperative to realize he is a man shaped by conflict.  He wore his hair short, a beard very neatly trimmed and colored by a brush dipped in darkness, with a few strands of moonlight to add definition.   His gaze was scorn and liquid silver forged into something damning in intensity.   Today he wore a great coat that was made from the supple hide of Wyvern with gloves that match, both dark but with a spattering of color that shown when the light rippled across it.  Silks that seemed somehow out of place upon a man of his nature ran across his torso and tucked into calfskin breeches.  After having spent  two decades commanding Imperial troops on campaigns against pale and savage northern barbarians he now led a more sedentary existence.  It was in my estimation that this was slowly killing him.

He had had led men against the Venue, pale northern beserkers who would wear the skins of beasts into battle and call upon them to savage men.  They painted there skins with blue and red pigments and those who were gifted would changed half into the creatures show skin they wore.  The blood of the damned resided within them and those girls whose skin shimmered like crushed shards of glass and bore the horns of twisting from their brows danced around bonfires made from the bones of our fallen and intoned the darkness to hex and bewitch his men.  He had brought them to heel but found he had no taste for the wolves when they were kept on a leash.  He was a prince of the Imperium, in his veins the blood of the Imperial line itself traversed.  Yet the Empress kept him from glory, recalling him to his lands lest his glory grow to great.  The light in him had waned every since. 

Today he was hunting for something, some vestige of that flame.  Some passion to stir him from the walking death that would try to drag him down to the grave.  He had few avenues of pursuit outside of the chattle brought here this day.  There would be those who serve as domestic servants, those upon whom he would test the sharpness of his blade against and then there were the others, those upon whom his passions would become physically manifest upon till passion consumed them both.

He is fire.  He illuminates and he consumes.  And soon you will know what it is to serve him.

Transcript of the writings of Derrik Hallow, scribe to Anton Palagente, Prince of Flame and Ash. 

Offline Bedroom LazarusTopic starter

  • A desire that burns the soul, a crucible that forges desire into lust and torment into exquisite surrender.
  • Knight
  • Enchanter
  • *
  • Join Date: Feb 2014
  • Location: Heaven on Earth
  • Gender: Male
  • For in his embrace, is paradise found.
  • My Role Play Preferences
  • View My Rolls
  • Referrals: 0
Re: M for F - Restoration of the flames
« Reply #1 on: July 01, 2018, 04:29:09 pm »
Still looking on this thread.