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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| As Luck Would Prevail; [for Orion] | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 29 2009, 08:48 PM (63 Views) | |
| Yorishine | Aug 29 2009, 08:48 PM Post #1 |
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Relative silence permeated the city of Eldahar, as sweltering heat drove even the most cold-blooded to seek cooler shelter. Humidity-thickened air cast quivering streams that obscured the distance of any viewer, if eyes were not already blinded by what cool winds did break the evening heat. Each brazen gust swept through at inconsistent intervals, kicking up clouds as they brushed across the loose desert sand. The conditions gave visibility no favor, sealing away sight of the once proud state of the desert city, as it stood with its various displays of rubble- the aftermath of its great fall. It was in this limited view that a figure could be spotted, straddled atop a great beast whose heavy hooves yielded dozens of grains airborne with each footfall. The steed was a sturdy mare of drafting breed, her white feathering tainted tan by the sand it was collecting, and the creamy beige of her mane and tail fairing little better as she strode along, head bowed against the occasional winds that pressed in her direction. Her honey-golden coat had seen better days, paled as it was by the dust that settled along her richly colored hide. Still, for all the dirt that made her its rest, she made not but a snort as she carried herself along through the bare roadways, thankful mayhaps for the lack of bodies barring her progression. High on the saddle but holding slack on the reigns was the mare's much smaller rider; not small simply by comparison, but by indisputable fact. Well beneath average height, the petite woman astride the hefty horse only just cleared five feet by an inch or two when standing upon her own legs. She was small, and somewhat dainty, with a delicate figure and gentle face. Fair hair, of a true light blonde, descended from her scalp in straight waves, settling lightly against her back when the wind was not bent on teasing it about her. An arm held raised, more distracted in shielding her pale blue eyes from the striking wind-kicked grains of sand to be concerned in taming back her tossled mane. Teeth gritted, he pressed his mount further. He could see little against the winds that seemed to find him much in their favor. The crumbling remains of stricken buildings lay unnoticed all around him, the scattered remains of stones that had once comprised solid walls unseen beneath his horse's feet. Eyes too weakly adjusted to the brightened sunlight, that were known to not accustom to the unlit dark, strained to see and gain his barings, but his efforts failed as the weather and human limitation belittled them. All that could be seen was his coat's own blue sleeve, and that he knew just well enough. When the winds had died, allowing him momentary sight, he took the first turn he caught sight of and tugged on the leather reigns, guiding the patient mare out of the path of the relentless winds and into an area shielded by a single structure. Behind them, the air settled, content to rush the path only with an occasional breeze. Not caring to brave the street again, nor to spend any longer wearing his overly thermal coat, he dismounted and led the mare to the nearest post, tying her reigns to it loosely. Shedding his coat quickly, he draped it over the back of the horse's saddle, fishing inside the pockets for but a moment, before fetching a silk black ribbon from inside. His attention was then turned to the building before which they had ended. What little knowledge he had of such places led him to conclude that it was a tavern, and with no further thought he headed within it, tying back his hair as he went. Preoccupation got him to the counter without noticing anything peculiar in the situation into which he had just strode. Hauling himself into a chair, still oblivious, he addressed the keeper for an ale, confident enough in his meager savings for a drink to wash away the flavor of sand. Taking a coin from his pocket, he exchanged it with the barkeeper with a depressed sigh, noting how little it contained. 'Right... money. I'd nearly forgot, what with that sea trip and all. Perhaps leaving that crazy dragon woman wasn't the best idea, but I'd much more value my life to working under her again.' He took up his glass as it was handed to him, sitting back in his seat with a pensive look. There had to be something he could do for pay, something that didn't carry the high risk of being hired by an unashamed murderess with a hellsteed in her stable. Someone whose idea of a pet cat did not include panthers either. He already didn't like cats without them being his own size. The frustration was building, causing him to grumble aloud. "I just want a job... is that really so much to ask?" |
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| Orion de Lacey | Sep 12 2009, 05:24 PM Post #2 |
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Governor of Ashoka
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"A job, you say?" It had come as a mild surprise when a woman had entered the inn, dressed quite modestly, the type that you wouldn't expect to come to what was, to put it plainly, a whore house. Clearly the short girl hadn't noticed all of the luscious ladies moving back and forth between rooms, or the muffled sound of pleasure circulating throughout the inn's many floors. Some customers were the quiet sort, but most, when they got around to it, could be quite loud. The receptionist herself wasn't one to idly stand around when men young and old entered one of Eldahar's most famous buildings, made more famous by the fact that the country's new governor, a certain Orion de Lacey, had made it his home. The girl, however, didn't seem entirely interested in the man, for she hadn't asked for him, or tried to storm her way up the various staircases. Not that the wee thing would have gotten very far - guards patrolled the topmost floor. Sliding from around the counter in an almost seductive fashion, the receptionist came to sit on the stool beside her newest guest. The woman sported long, blue-black tresses, ringlets that framed a heart-shaped face. Her eyes were of a pale blue, her skin tanned. As far as clothing went, she had only enough to cover her breasts and her nether regions, allowing her midriff, her shoulders, and her legs to be, for the most part, completely exposed. All sorts of silver bangles hung from her wrists and arms, and she lacked shoes. If she was expected to remove them anyway, why bother wearing them? "I could offer you a job," she continued, smiling innocently. She brushed her hair aside, leaning her elbow against the counter so that she could cradle her head in it. "My name's Cordelia. The pay is good, if you do your job well and don't upset any of the customers. Of course... you would have to... learn a few techniques first, and I would advise that you see our man on the top floor. We currently have the Governor of Ashoka staying here, and he likes to ah... look at the ladies we're thinking of hiring before they're hired. He has a good eye, that'n. What do you say?" She smiled again. The girl was, admittedly, short, but there were some out there who had strange fetishes, and sometimes they happened to involve the short ones. Most of the women hired were, of course, tall beauties, the sorts of girls that had taken years to cultivate and who loved their job. The advantage to being a harlot was that payment came the moment one finished and the man walked out. Even if he wasn't completely satisfied, something could still be weened from him, and very rarely did one leave unsatisfied at all. Sometimes it could be dangerous, but the inn had rarely seen a death on the woman's part. Besides, if Orion happened to like this short blonde, she was bound for success. Despite his apparent anger and proneness to spells of absolute fury, he was no stranger to women. As far as Cordelia was concerned, if a woman could please him, they could please anyone. It also sounded good, when one could say that they had pleased the man who had slaughtered the late king. "Well?" |
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| Yorishine | Oct 1 2009, 08:34 AM Post #3 |
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"Ah..." He glanced up, startled, fully expecting his outburst to have gone ignored. Crystalline pale blue eyes set into a pair of similar hue, but perhaps a bit darker for a like shade of pale, and made a quick scan of the tanned, rounded face. His mouth fell slightly agape, although it was not quite clear for which purpose it had fallen; that a person had spoke to him, was a woman, or was a woman wearing very little clothes. Each unbelievable fact was tackled in turn. She had spoken to him because he had been heard, and perhaps because she was just a welcoming, talkative person. And indeed, she was a woman, but then, as much as he loathed to admit it, so was he. As for her minimal amount of clothing... He had to think harder about this one, as it threw his noble sense of dignity for quite a ride. Why would anyone, much less a woman, feel comfortable wearing what could barely be called scraps of fabric? A glance around revealed that she was not the only woman baring so little clothes. Perhaps this was normal in Ashoka? Considering the constant desert heat, that was understandable, as it was surely cooler wearing less. Even he had felt need to shed his coat, and was still quite hot dressed in his considerably more modest garb. So that must have been it; Ashokan women wore less because of the heat. To be certain, it was not that Yorishine had never heard of a whore house, but so little did he know that he would never suspect in this foreign land to truly be sitting in one. As far as he had been educated on the subject, a whore house was an establishment staffed by loose women. Foresight had been given to discourage him from such places, but not to inform him under what terms a woman might be deemed "loose". How was he to tell? This one only seemed friendly. "A job?" He drew back, leaving his glass desolate on the table, hands dropping into his lap. It seemed all too convenient, that his frustrated complaint be rewarded so quickly. Yet he was certain he had heard those words clearly, amidst all the noise his mind had stuffed away into the collective background. She was offering him a job, with pay- good pay. Any money would have done well for him, broke as he had become. He was almost certain he could meet her terms, as he was polite and unlikely to upset anyone- aside from the occasional clumsy slip, but he had gotten better in the past few months, against the odds. As for any techniques, he was less certain as to his success, but anything seemed worth trying. And yet still, there was the issue of meeting with the country's governor; the significance of that had yet to settle with him, but it made him nervous all the same. It all just seemed too perfect, but he couldn't afford to fear the possibility of attached strings; he had to take whatever he could get. At the very least, his employer was sure not to be the dragon woman. "Oh... okay. Sure. Upstairs?" Sliding from his seat, his eyes did a quick survey of the room before returning to Cordelia again in hopes of direction. He could not tell, from where he stood, the location of the stairs. |
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| Orion de Lacey | Nov 9 2009, 09:33 PM Post #4 |
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Governor of Ashoka
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"Excellent!" Cordelia cried as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely. The woman had taken a few moments to process the offer, but upon her agreement the scantily-clad harlot was more than ecstatic. She grabbed the blonde's hand and yanked her to her feet, rushing towards the stairs, which happened to be on the left of the desk at the entrance, very much hidden from view behind what happened to be a sliding door. She hauled the girl up the long, steep flight of steps; as she breathlessly led the way, she managed to ask for her new charge's name. Yorishine had been given a quick break-down of how things were to go. Now that she was ready - makeup had been applied heavily to her face, her nails had been painted, her hair pulled into elaborate, sexy curls, and she had been handed the shortest skirt she'd probably wear with the most revealing top she'd probably ever seen - Cordelia, with the help of another girl, shoved Yorishine out of the room they'd used to dress her up, and down the hall. There, they took her up a few more flights of stairs, until they had reached the top; Yorishine was then marched down the length of that hall, and unceremoniously shoved through the door on the left at the very end. "Give 'im a real sweet kiss when you get in there, hunny, and he'll be all over ya!" Cordelia called as she slammed the door shut. The poor man-turned-woman was left to face the beast within. The room was clearly the largest in the inn, probably because the woman below knew that people would pay good money for a nice room, on the top floor, where the harlots weren't constantly inhabiting the rooms. The Governor of Ashoka was perched on a massive four-poster bed pushed off to right corner - some thought he liked to sleep alongside the wall, but, the truth was, when he'd been... enjoying himself... with a lady... or two... or three... he'd managed to roll off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud more than once - toying with a grape. He was throwing it up into the air, would then catch it, look at it, and toss it up again - like he was bored, actually. The room was largely devoid of anything else, save a small bedside table and an oil lamp, which was lit, with the curtains on the windows drawn shut. When the door shut, Orion glanced up. Slowly, an enormous grin spread across his face. "Why hello there," he said, twisting his body so that his legs were dangling over the edge of the bed. He hopped down and finally swallowed the grape he'd been playing with. Mismatched eyes moved up and down the length of her body before they settled on her face. She didn't have much as far as her chest went, but she still had a nice shape. Orion reached down, his fingers sliding along her jaw before they trailed down the side of her throat. She had beautiful hair, and was he often more... amused... by blondes than he was women with other hair colours. He laughed quietly as his hand finally came to grip her upper arm. Orion yanked his newest whore forward before whispering: "Why don't you give me a little kiss and I'll... return the favour?" |
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