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Author Topic: The Forest Of Tales (Multiple Settings. FxF, MxF, MxM etc.)  (Read 468 times)

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Offline Steamy RoyalTopic starter

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The Forest Of Tales (Multiple Settings. FxF, MxF, MxM etc.)
« on: December 27, 2019, 06:59:17 am »
Proceed With Caution

Introduction
Welcome, to all who enter.

  • I am in the process of change, but for now, you can call me Val. I am twenty-eight years of age, and as you can see, I do not see myself into a specific gender category. This is due to the fact that I some days feel more like one gender and other days I feel more like the other.

  • I am not of the English world, if grammar mistakes occur, I apologise. I do my best to follow the correct grammar.

  • Currently, I am attending university as well as working and my posting schedule is affected by this. I still try to post 2-5 times every week, but less might occur. I hope you will think it is worth the while, should you go into a roleplay with me.

And speaking of roleplay:

  • I have roleplayed for countless moons, and therefore consider myself fairly well structured in my characters and way of writing. I post various sizes of paragraphs, depending on my partner and story, though my average lies around 3-4 paragraphs per post. This is due to adult life and the tasks that demands my attention at different times.

  • Settings range from medieval fantasy, to modern slice of life, to Sci-Fi and mixes in between.

  • The subjects I tend to go into, are in the darker area, with conflict, wars, demonic rulers, murderers, dangerous strange events occurring and so on. Usually, I have romance in the stories as well, without forcing it to happen after three posts. My characters need time to get attached to the ones they travel with.

  • That does not mean though, that I do not roleplay in other genres. I try to use comical scenes as well as just relaxed scenes. The world as well, is not always just dark and dangerous, there are places where there are many beautiful trees, though it just might not be a safe place to stay.

  • But all this will be covered in the specific idea part in here.

  • If you got any questions regarding my introduction here, do not hesitate to ask. I am a very friendly and open person.


Your Concerns

Expectations
Expectations:

  • Communications between us.
  • Honesty.
  • Grammar Check.
  • Maturity.
  • Literacy - 3-5 paragraphs per post.
  • Patience.
  • Collaboration.
  • Open-minded.
  • Friendly.
  • Interest - Write more than just "Hi, want to rp?" in a PM.
  • I will, naturally, follow the above as well.

Be Mindful Of

Rules Of Engagement

Rules Of Engagement:


  • Adult Themed Roleplays - Romance, Violence, Sex, Alcohol etc.
  • 18+ Roles.
  • 3-5 Paragraphs Per Post (Example further down).
  • No Fade To Black - Violence, Romance, Sex.
  • Creative Collaboration.
  • A Warning Of Disappearance Or If Not Pleased By Story/-Progression.
  • I Use Visual Images For Characters, Realistic & Drawn - Not A Requirement For You, But It Would Be A Plus For Me.
  • Flexibility - Be Open For Mixing Up Themes. E.g. Horror-Future-Romance.
  • Passion - Only Start A Story With Me, You Really Feel For.
  • Overpowered Characters - I Do Not Mind Them In Supernatural Settings, As I Just Make Stronger Enemies.
  • Most Stories Contain Romance - Be Accepting Towards That, Thank You.
  • Any Questions Regarding This Area, Please Contact Me.

As For Your Interest

Stories


Story 1: FxF, FxM, FxLGBTQ+

The Fear Of Release

"With The Matrix Key, The Chains Wrapped Around My Heart Will Crumble".

The year is 3998 and the world has changed drastically from what is described through history books. It no longer resembles anything that existed in the thousand years from 2000-3000. Even the last 800 years have changed a lot, though it was easier to compare today, with those years. It is no longer democracy that rules the 'common' world. It is companies. Space travel has become available, but due to unforeseen changes on earth, the race out of our own solar system never managed to really kick off. However, in this day and age, space stations and other planets are inhabitable, for a price. It is also possible to upgrade your life with technology, which also has brought along all kinds of new and more dangerous drugs and alcohols.

Sylvia Polu was a woman in the beginning of her thirties, and life had been tough. She had worked hard to survive. She was the head of one of the leading companies in the world 'The Invincible Link', which dominated the electronic and technological market. She had started from scratch to build up this company, and she had stepped on a lot of toes and done things she never thought she would have done, to get where she was. The control of the world she had gained, was impressive, but she was in a competing life that she didn't like. She was tough and an animal when it came to making business arrangements, but she had learned to never trust anyone. In this world, giving your heart to anyone, would pose a high risk for your position and your company. She needed to keep her enemies in check, and her friends and family in check-mate. In truth, friends and family posed a greater threat than your enemies in today's age and someone always kept trying to scheme to take her down, one way or the other. Leaders of companies were said to be moral-lacking assholes, and while Sylvia Poly had learned to be one, she had other qualities buried deep beneath her shell.

Roles:

Sylvia Polu - My Character

________ - Your Character - I Do Not Have Anything Specific Planned For Your Character, So Ideas Are Very Welcome!

Sylvia Polu:



Mood Setting Music:



Story 2: MxF
The Power Of Agony

"Once The Call Has Been Heard, There Is No Turning Back".

The two of them were happy together, so happy that they had planned their wedding. Everything was just as they wanted, nothing more, nothing less. Some would call it a mundane life, but it was theirs. They had been together for seven years, and now they were more than ready to commit for the rest of their lives. The day arrived, she was the most beautiful bride, he was the most handsome groom. She got in the car to drive from the hotel room. He was at the alter waiting.

Crash. No longer was the bride amongst the living. The car had been crushed under the weight of a truck, where the driver had lost control. The guests got worried, she was supposed to have shown up. She didn't pick up her phone. Something was wrong. An hour later, the panic was killed and replaced with grief and extreme sad emotions. The police had shown up at the church and had given the horrible news to the groom and his family, as well as the bride's family.

When the night arrived, Mana was alone in their-, his, apartment. She was no longer there, she could not be part of the apartment. He was looking at a picture of her, a beautiful one. Tears started streaming down his face, his hands clenched tightly at the frame. A scream was surfacing. His heart was beating fast. He felt like he couldn't breath if he didn't get it out. It came. He screamed out her name in agony, pain and depression. A flash of an explosion appeared in the apartment, sending him flying back into the wall, the back of his head slamming into it. He went unconscious and fell forward, crushing the picture underneath him. 

Mana - My Character

________ - Your Character - The Wife Coming Back From The Afterlife.

Mana:



Mood Setting Music:



Story 3: FxM, FxF, FxLGBTQ
Lift Me Gently.

"All My Life I've Been A Good Girl, I've Said My Prayers ".


Jessica Belmont was a girl. who had grown up in a religious family, who had followed all the rules and done all she should, to be the faithful follower of God. She had believed that her path had been laid out for her, and that the elders of the community were guiding her down that path. She had helped converting people to their faith and joining the community she was a part of. She was comfortable, not questioning her decisions, as they were part of God's plans.

As a grown woman, she was no longer part of that community. She had decided to leave, and in doing so, had been cut off from contact with all family members and friends from the community. She had expected it would lead to that scenario, but had hoped for another solution. She could no longer trust blindly in what she had been taught, and she was banned and blocked from the community since that day.

She now lived in an old run down apartment, trying to make the shallow salary she received every month, cover the bills she had. She did not have many; a phone bill for an old cell phone nowhere close to the new state-of-the-art-phones, and the apartment itself. She had a guitar, a couch and a living room table. A small kitchen, which could use a real fixer-upper, and a toilet with a very small bathroom, and nothing more. Her job consisted of working in an adult-toy-shop, though not one of the fine ones, hence the shallow salary. Life was difficult, and she had only acquired one good friend since she left the community, a colleague in just as bad a position as herself.

She did not know what goals she had for herself, it was difficult to dream of anything big, when you had almost nothing. She had closed herself up after leaving the community. Relationships never worked out past two weeks, and she always kept her life in the community a secret, as there were things she'd rather just forget about that time. It had made her tough as well as deprived from intimate emotions, or at the very least, she was afraid of letting herself acquire those emotions.

Roles:

Jessica Belmont - My Character

________ - Your Character - A Possible Love Interest - Perhaps One With A Rather Good Economy.

Jessica Belmont:



Mood Setting Music:



Story 4: FxF, FxM, FxLGBTQ+
The Corporate Wars.

"The dream you might be dreaming might be someone else's dream tonight ".

For centuries, a shadow war had been in process between big corporations. The public knew that the big powerful corporations were in constant battle for more power, but many didn’t think about it in the literal sense, more in the sense that they were aiming for the best products and deals with other companies and so on. But the truth was that all big corporations were training, hiring and making their own secret army to wage war in the shadows against each other. Witches with incredible healing powers and blood magic was kept on a short leash by corporate leaders in their companies, as a single witch could mean the difference between life and death.

There were bodyguards, soldiers, mercenaries for hire, witches, assassins and many others with self-proclaimed classes and titles, who were hired for these corporations. No one seemed to be close to winning, but one thing had become more noticeable during the last ten years. A few certain key players had entered the battlefield for corporate power, and these seemed to be more dangerous than the others before them. The companies that had been controlling the shadow war so far, were no longer in control.

The Kraken Corporation, The Valkyrian Corporation and The Titan Corporation were dominating the battle, and yet, none of them had the power to take each other down. Different methods were being deployed, causing heavy losses for all three companies, which forced them all to take breaks before resuming. None of the small corporations dared to go up against them, and it was a war that seemed to be without an end.

Roles:

Lyria Valna - My Character - Ninja - An Assassin For The Titan Corporation.

________ - Your Character - A Love Interest Later On - From Another Corporation - Suggestions Are Welcome.

Lyria Valna:





Mood Setting Music:



Story 5: MxF, MxM, MxLGBTQ+
The Hunt For Amrita

"When Demons Roam The Earth, It Is A Sign That Mankind Is Cursed"

For decades, islands far to the east have been said to contain treasures beyond your imagination. Only a handful of all that went there, ever returned, and they were rambling in a strange language, their eyes having been changed. One thing these people had brought back with them, was a stone not found anywhere else, called Amrita. In truth, this was far more than a stone, but knowledge on it had not been gained, hence people referred to it as stones. People thought the islands to be cursed, but the truth was far more sinister. The islands had become infested with demonic beings of all kinds; Humans who died in hate, animals infested with demonic souls, skeleton warriors and archers, undead sorceresses and more. There are still those that try to venture there, but they are never seen again.

Things are lurking in the shadows, a growing power from the demonic realm. Grant Feathertail had been send to the island with a group of the best armed soldiers of the Emerald Kingdom, but none had heard from the soldiers or Grant, and a rescue team was now being assembled.

Roles:

Grant Feathertail - My Character.

_____ - Your Character - Rescue Party.

_______ - Your Character - Up For Discussion If You Do Not Want Rescue Party.

Grant Feathertail:



Mood Setting Music:



The Art Of My Writing

Post Example
An Example For You.

Example 1
”Once again, the killer has claimed a victim. There are no reports yet, as to who the victim is. The victim’s family should have been informed according to the police.” Leila Kudrow was standing in her underwear in the kitchen while listening to the old radio that she had bought for a surely overpriced price. Her underwear consisted of a light purple bra and high classic light purple briefs. Her coffee machine sounded like it was waging a war against the wall of sound itself. She didn’t even like coffee, but she had found it socially unacceptable to dislike it in her line of work. Despite not having colleagues, those that she did work for, treated her differently when she said she disliked coffee. She had once said that coffee, to her, was the most disgusting invention of a drink she could ever think of, and she had been made the joke of the office for at least a year. It’s funny, despite her age clearly stating she is an adult, it seems people put adulthood together with liking coffee. She sighed at the comparison and just leaned against her sink counter that was up against the wall. It ran from one side of the left kitchen wall, to the other side of the left kitchen wall, nothing more than a few meters in length, with cupboards above it. It was a rather small kitchen she had, in general, a rather small apartment which only consisted of a living room, cramped bathroom and a kitchen. Not even a hallway had been installed, you walked directly into the kitchen when you entered. 

Her entire apartment seemed like it could come crashing down any moment. Or well, that could be the first impression people got when they saw it. She had found her own impression going in that direction when she first saw the apartment, but lack of money had left her no other choice than to live here. The floorboards of the apartment creaked like shit; if the coffee machine was going while she walked on the floorboards in the kitchen, or any other room of the apartment for that matter, it sounded like the coffee machine and the floorboards were battling it out to see who could make the loudest annoying noise possible. The walls were painted white, though admittedly, it had turned rather yellow rather fast. A lot of smokers lived in this apartment building, and while Leila Kudrow herself only smoked a few cigarettes a day, the nicotine from the other apartments easily affected the walls on both sides of it. Besides of that, her living room had a mattress that could perhaps fit two people, if they stayed close. It was only made for one and a half person, but with her size, it would be possible for two. She had a small table made from wood as well, that could hold two plates and two cups, nothing more. A few lamps at the corner of the living room and a window overlooking the alley that ran between her apartment building and the one right next to it. She had installed thick curtains though, which were both wide and long, to make sure no one could see inside her apartment if she wanted privacy. The kitchen itself, as told earlier, consisted of the counter, sink and cupboards, as well as a small fridge, which could perhaps hold about a banana and a Pokémon. Well, that was the explanation she gave to people when she had to explain why she didn’t have a lot of food in her home, and since no one really knew exactly how big a Pokémon was, it was a fun comparison to make. She had humour, though it was not really a humour everyone got. The kitchen had the obligatory trashcan, of course. She owned about, three and a half cups; the handle on one cup had broken off, and about four plates, three knifes and two forks. Yup, she got by with very little, though not by her own choice entirely. 

She ran a hand through her thick curly hair, that went down to just above her shoulders. She still had to do her make up and put on her necklace. She really did not feel like going anywhere today; the hangover was still pounding in her head, signalling that the whole orchestra was about to play if she didn’t grab a pill and that cup of coffee. She had gotten addicted to the shit for getting up in the morning, the coffee, not the alcohol or the pills, despite seriously not liking it. She pulled out the drawer with her few knifes and forks, which also functioned as her medicine stash, and grabbed two headache pills from a plastic back. A cup was filled with water and she threw the pills into her mouth and swallowed it with the water. “We are still waiting for further information from the police-“ the speaker on the radio continued. Leila sighed “You gonna wait long then. They know nuthin’ of what’s up.” She replied to the radio, pretending that it could hear her. The coffee machine had finally surrendered to the fight against the wall of sound. She poured herself a cup and downed it as fast as she could. Time was running out, at any minute now, she would get a call from the police contact she had, asking her to join them for this victim as well. You’d think being a private detective working for the police would give you a good salary, but on the contrary, because of the stretched thinned police forces, there were hardly money to pay the officers salary to begin with. She let the radio run while she went to the glory of the apartment, which was her bathroom. 

If Kings and Queens could wish for any kind of bathroom, this would certainly not be what they wished for. When sitting on the toilet, she had to puller her legs close to her, not easy to be honest, and it was difficult to take a shower without making the whole floor wet as well. Sure, she had a shower curtain, but because of the tight space, the water ran under it and onto the floor. The sink was at least, partly, functioning. It provided very cold, or scolding hot water, nothing in between, but hey, it worked. She stripped, got into the shower and cleaned herself up. It didn’t take her more than ten minutes, honestly, she hated taking long showers, perhaps she would like it if she had more room, but from what she knew about herself, she would never get to like long showers. She got out, dried herself with the one towel she had, blow-dried her hair, did her make-up which consisted of eye shadow, eyeliner, brow-brush, all in black, and then the phone rang. She went into the living room and found it under her pillow. She picked it up. “Yeah? Uh-huh, be there in thirty. No there’s nothing I need.” And then she ended the call. 

She got dressed in a dark green tank top that ran all the way down to her waist, though had no sleeves. This was of course after she had put on her underwear again, because no one would ever forget to do that first, right? She found a pair of dark green slim fit jeans and slipped into them as well. Black socks on her feet, a golden necklace around her neck, and a leather jacket to wear outside. She put her phone in the breast pocket of the leather jacket and found her black sneakers, which she put on. She grabbed her wallet from the kitchen counter and put it in her breast pocket together with the already-placed phone. She walked down the stairs from the ninth floor where her apartment was located, past Drunk Davy, which was an older man who was always drunk and sleeping on the stair case so everyone had to move around him, trying not to step on his hands and break one of his fingers, which, Leila had to admit, had happened more times than she would like to admit. Not just from her though, but just in general. He was a big man. She got out of the building and walked for about five minutes before she reached the main street. She bought a pack of gum, having forgotten to brush her teeth which meant the whiskey from last night might still present itself in scent, if she was close enough to someone, and she’d rather not make people think she was a drunk. She hailed a cab, and got into it, heading for the scene of the crime. 

When she arrived at the city park, police had it locked down completely. No one got in, no one got out. She was pretty sure that no one was getting out anyway, the killer was gone and the only ones in there were police. Two policemen were standing guard at the entrance to the park that she was dropped off at. She didn’t have a badge of any kind, so she would have to go through the usual process of discussing, debating, shouting and threatening. It was amazing that they could keep finding people that didn’t know she was sometimes working with them. Then again, she had didn’t know if rumours about her were going around, or if it was being kept silent that she was helping them because of their own incapability to solve the crimes in the city. But just as she had guessed, as soon as she got close to the iron gates to the park, the two policemen asked her to stop. What followed was a calm Leila, for a minute, before she started shouted and cursing the men in, incredibly, many ways that you wouldn’t think was possible. By the way of her threats and her clear knowledge of everything that was going on, she was allowed inside. 

The victim that had been killed, had been dumped in the small stream of water that ran under a short stone bridge. More police were surrounding the scene here, making sure reporters, should they somehow have gotten through, couldn’t get a look at the mangled body. One thing was for sure, the glimpse of the body Lisa got through the police, meant that they could not have informed the next of kin in any way, unless the person had identification on him or her, as it was impossible to identify the face. Blood had been painted on the bridge, almost in an artistic, though rather dark manner, depicting what some would call a demon, though it was really all about how you looked at it. She couldn’t get a clear look at it from where she stood though, and the police wasn’t letting her any closer, yet. One thing she could both see, feel and hear though, was the inhumane sounds that was coming from above the body, about five meters up. She looked up and saw what she had seen so many times lately, the warped soul, either trying to communicate with her, or simply spluttering nonsense. It chilled her to the bone every time she saw these kinds of souls. Some were worse than this one, but they were all the stuff of nightmares. She looked down again and addressed the police in front of her. “So who the fuck do I ‘ot to talk with to ge’ to that bod’ over there?!” Her voice, slightly deep and hoarse, was loud enough to be heart by most of the surrounding officers. She lit a cigarrette while she waited, or well, she would have, but when she reached for them, she realised she had forgotten both lighter and cigs. Her life was such a success.


Example 2
Two months, that's how long Khain and Camma had been sitting in the shit hole of a dungeon prison that Judas had cast them in. It was dark and moist, and there was no entertainment what so ever, besides of the occasional ranting of a lunatic that had been in the prison for too long. It had been some very long two months, but Khain had not regretted his decisions on that day. If anything, all that he had been shown since that day, just proved what Camma had been saying during the interrogation three years ago. Everything was not as great as Judas had made it out to be. Shit was going on in the world, that was not of good character. He thought that maybe, since he was close to Judas and considered him a friend, he would have been able to get through to him. But his attempts had only lead to his own imprisonment. Trying to convince Judas that what he was doing was bad, had only affected in him and Camma being thrown into prison. But at least he had tried.

He supposed that his execution hadn't been signed yet, as Judas might have trouble accepting the fact that he'd have to kill a friend. Though that was only speculation, he might as well have kept Khain alive just to torment him with the fact that he failed, and now had fallen from, what some considered, glory and fame, to a life of a criminal. But despite this, he was satisfied with the outcome. Sure it would have been nice to get away, instead of rotting in this prison cell, where he had sent so many criminals to wait for their fate, himself. What actually bothered him the most, was the fact that Camma had been caught as well. She had been set free after six months of interrogation, where she had managed to convince Khain of his wrong doings. Of course, some questioned why she was given her freedom, as she was a pirate and had committed enough murders and plunders to even bring the biggest of thieves to shame. But none had dared question the decision of the Sovereign, especially not one who was rumoured to be a very close friend to Judas. There were, of course, talks in the corners of Khain acting weird, but he managed to kill any kind of gossip about betrayal.

Camma was hiding in the city after her release, and once every second week, Khain would go to meet her. Sometimes it was night, sometimes it was day. It changed so that no one could see a pattern in his patrols of the city. They spend nights, trying to come up with a way to turn the tables on this whole situation that Judas had brought them in. Peaceful solution was the best solution, Khain insisted on that, and while Camma agreed, she didn't see it as a plan with any success. Despite that, after many meetings and nights, she decided to let him have a go with the peaceful solution, a decision she would come to regret soon enough. Shortly after Khain had been imprisoned, all the gossip and rumours of his strange release of Camma, came straight back, and this time, they were taking seriously. A wild search began for Camma, and despite her best efforts to hide and fight them off, there were no way she would be able to win. She was thrown into the prison as well, a cell right next to Khain. While Khain had been there for two months, she had been there for a month and twenty-nine days. She tormented Khain with the fact that she had lasted longer after their deceit had been revealed, despite the fact that they had been in very different circumstances when they were captured, but Camma didn't seem to care about that.

Of course, the banter that were between those two, were banter that helped them stay alive in the dark and stay sane. If they didn't joke around with each other, talk with each other and so on, their minds would be lost to the darkness of the prison, and there was enough darkness in the world as it was. What Camma didn't know, was that Khain had made a pact, not just with one god, but two. He wasn't sure if that's what had kept him alive after he had been caught, but it could have had something to do with it. He possessed enough magic to be a serious threat, but it made sense that even the strongest of warriors, wouldn't be able to fight a whole kingdom and win, by themselves. Though he had his suspicion that the pact he had made with the devil, had been the reason why Judas hadn't killed them off yet. Strings could have been pulled to keep them alive, despite their chances of getting out being very very slim. A sigh escaped his lips as he thought about all these things, while he ran a hand over the long deep scar that ran from the middle of the the nose, and down over his right cheek, down to his neck where it stopped. Camma saw the movement from her cell. It was dark, but the eyes had adjusted to the darkness, which meant that some movement could be seen.

“Does it hurt?” she asked him. She was sitting up against the bars that separated their cells. She wore nothing, Khain wore nothing as well, a 'gift' from Judas. Well, it was more a gift to Judas himself, than it was to Khain and Camma. Khain shrugged “It doesn't anymore, or well, I guess if I put pressure on it, it does.” Camma let out a puff of air. “I told you to put down your weapon, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to fight me.” Khain turned his head. He was leaning up against the cold stone wall at the back. “Well, if you hadn't been so insisting on fighting a whole army by yourself, my face would have been intact. Though I have to hand it to you, great fighting skills.” Camma grinned a bit in the dark “I wasn't a famous pirate for nothing, at least I got my skills polished with our fight.” Khain let out a small quick laugh “Yeah, I guess you're right.” and then silence fell again. Their conversations never lasted very long. There were a few reasons for that. One, if the guards heard them talk too much, they would come and torture them, without the knowledge of Judas. That had been made clear one day, when they had discussed whether or not it was safe for them to do it, without orders from Judas. The other reason was, that it was difficult to keep talking in their situations. It really wasn't a very uplifting place to be staying. “You think they will settle on some kind of punishment, other than this?” Khain took a deep breath and exhaled. “Under normal circumstances, we would already have been sentenced and informed of the sentence. But I'm suspecting that Judas is having trouble with dealing with this. After all, we were very close, him and I.” he turned his head away from Camma again. “Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see then. I still don't understand how you couldn't see what the lunatic was doing to the country, before I came along.” Camma replied. Khain sighed "Shut up."

For the next two days, there were no words from either of them. The raving lunatic a few cells away from Khain, had been enough entertainment, so much, that the guards had decided to nearly beat him to death on the second day of his ranting and shouting. It seemed they were going to rot in this prison until they died of old age. While Khain was in those thoughts, Camma spoke. “I could really use some sweet whiskey.” Khain rolled his eyes “You're thinking about drinking at a time like this? Where would you even get sweet whiskey from?” “Well you know, pirates always have treasured buried around the ocean, on small islands. Have you never heard any pirate tales?” “I have, I just assumed they were adding a bit to the fantasy of pirates. Why the hell would you go around to dig down whiskey and old rum? Treasure is one thing, but alcohol?” Camma sent out a small laugh “I'm joking you saint of a sinner. I haven't stowed away anything, it's just a nice dream scenario to have.” Khain sighed “Right, I forgot, you have a strange sense of humor.” “Noooooo, what I have, is humor. Unlike you, I know how to use it to keep my mood up. You're just a god damned mood killer.” “Well I'm god damned alright.” and with that, they went silent again.

For a good five days, nothing was said between them. They were not on bad terms, there were just nothing to be said or shared. Two months in darkness like this, emptied your conversation topics very fast. However, on the sixth day, something out of the ordinary suddenly happened. Footsteps were heard coming from down the hall, and a small light could be seen burning. At first it was impossible to believe the thoughts that came through both Camma and Khain's head 'That's not a soldiers footsteps...No metal clanging...It has to be a hallucination'. Both of them waited eagerly to see who was going to appear. It felt like it took ages for the person to arrive, but when she did, it was obvious as to why it had taken time. On her hip, hung a lantern, which had been the light that they had seen down the hall. It was still burning, but not as bright. She was sweating a lot, clearly carrying way more than she usually carried. She put the two bags down and looked at both Camma and Khain. “I'm glad you're both still alive. You won't have long. I've prepared a small rowing boat down at the docks. Your weapons are stashed there, under a black wool carpet. There are no guards around the docks, they have been called to a meeting. You have exactly an hour and thirty minutes before they'll return.” She pulled out two keys from her pockets, and quickly unlocked both of their cells.

Camma stayed in hers, while Khain moved forward. “Who are you?” Khain asked. “I'm no one important. You don't have time to be questioning me, you have time to run.” Camma looked at her “I don't trust her. Why now? Why help us and risk death?” Khain sighed “I don't know, but if our choices are to die on the run, or die by rotting here, I'll take my chances on the run.” He opened the bag that the woman had dropped in front of his cell. It was all of his Sovereign clothing. This woman was clearly not a no one important, but as she said, he had no time to question her. He got dressed in the white silk shirt first, and then his white jacket. He frowned a bit upon the whole white theme, but of course, he had his powers from the White One, so it made sense that their clothing would be made in his name. White pants followed suit and long warm socks as well as white boots were pulled on. It felt so nice to have clothing on again, a warm, fuzzy, heart warming feeling. He turned his head to Camma who was in the process of getting dressed as well. There weren't a lot of clothing in her bag. “Where's my armor?” she asked, looking at the woman. “It's in the boat as well, it was too heavy to carry it for me alone, it's taken time to plan this, please just hurry up and get out of here.” Camma sighed. She pulled on a tight black shirt and pants, alongside with some black boots. It wasn't much, but it would do the trick. “If you go out of the south prison door, you'll meet no guards. The door is locked, but I have the key. Once you are out, drop it on the ground, I'll make sure it's locked and no one knows how you got out.” she handed the key to Khain who took it right away. “If we ever get back, I'll be sure to find you and thank you properly.” the woman nodded her head a bit. Khain looked to Camma “Come on, it's now.” Camma nodded, and then they both took off, running as quietly as they could, towards the south end of the prison.

The woman had been right, there were no guards at all. It was easy to get through the door as they had the key, and once they were outside, Khain dropped it like the woman had said and closed the door behind them. Both Khain and Camma knew enough about wars and infiltration to know that they shouldn't speak during this mission of getting out alive, so while they both had a burning desire to ask questions to each other and try to figure out what had just happened, they would have to wait with those conversations. They hurried through the small narrow streets they had to pass, again, there were no guards. Either there really was a meeting, or they were all going to be waiting for them on the docks, and this was just some kind of sick game that Judas was playing. It seemed like no one noticed them, not even the citizens of this land. It was difficult to know exactly how much time had passed, but Khain had estimated that they had about forty-five minutes left. Which was more than enough, as they had already reached the dock. Both of them looked around, at first they couldn't see the small boat anywhere, but after a minute more, Camma grabbed Khain's shoulder and dragged him down the east end of the dock. There was the small rowing boat with the black sheep carpet. Both of them quickly got down there, and Camma checked right away under the carpet. Everything was there, weapons and armor. Though it seemed that the armor Khain would have, was the armor he was already wearing, which was to say, not very much. Then again, Camma remembered him wearing the exact same thing when she encountered him on her own pirate vessel. It seemed that was his commanding outfit.

Both of them grabbed the oars that lay in the boat, and they started to row. There was no reason to wait any further. Once they were far out on the ocean, Camma stopped rowing. “Can we just talk about what the hell happened?” Khain sighed “I know just as much as you do. We were rescued by someone, for no apparent reason.” “There had to be a reason, no one just helps an ex-pirate and ex-Sovereign escape that fortress of a prison. Didn't you recognise her from somewhere?” Khain shook his head “I have never seen her in my life. I don't know how she knew about us and I don't know why she would help us. All I know is- Aw shit.” Camma looked at him “What now? Khain nodded behind her “The mist. We're in trouble.” Camma looked over her shoulder “Aw shit.” “I told you.” Khain said, and before Camma could see turn her head to look at him with her glaring eyes, the mist had covered them.

Five days later, without knowing what had happened, both of them lay on Wulfshore. The sun was up and burning in their faces. The boat had been torn to pieces, but Khain's weapons were on the sand, without any damage at all. He had some very dangerous looking weapons. A spear, where the whole pole was made of black metal, and the tip of it had a curved sharp blade. Next to it, lay a sword which seemed to be made of some kind of dark radiating silver. It wasn't the shining kind of silver, it had a more darker glow to it. Camma's weapons lay close to her. One was her two-handed pirate sword, and the other was a small, very beautiful crafted dagger. Her armor, lay close to her as well, which was a dark red and black armor, beautiful, but also heavy looking. Both of them woke up from the sun, and sat up in the sand. “What happened?” Camma asked. “I don't know, I've just woken up. My head feels like it's been hit twenty times with a warhammer.” “Mine as well. Seems like we're safe though. The boat is broken, but we're on land...Whatever land this is..” Khain looked around. “I don't recognise it, but I guess we can't stay here. We're too exposed.” Camma nodded “For once, I agree with you, let's get going.” Both of them tried to get up, but it felt like all of their energy had been sucked out of their bodies. “On the other hand, they probably won't find us within the next ten minutes.” Camma said, as both of them fell back down on their asses in the sand. This was really a strange day. If it even was the same day anymore.


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