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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Oct 20, 2018 15:27:55 GMT -5
LÄNGE LEVE DROTTNINGEN . . .
plot //MC is the princess of a large nation/empire where the royalty and nobility have magical abilities. YC is a knight of said nation/empire and knew MC when they were children, though he is a few years older. On MC's twenty-first birthday her father, the king, throws a grand ball for her. All of the nobility are invited as well as the wealthiest merchants and suitors for MC's hand. YC has just returned from the front lines of battle with a neighboring nation/empire and has been promoted to the Red Swords, an elite group of knights that were the royal guard. They are also present at the ball and stop an assassination attempt on the royal family. MC thanks YC heavily as he is the one to have directly stopped the attempt and asks his name. When he tells her his name, it takes MC a few minutes to remember him but when she does they're both ecstatic. They have a quick dance before she has to attend to formal matters. They grow close as friends again and eventually fall in love, but there are a ton of issues in the nation/empire - which we would decide upon. Other than that, it's up to us what happens.
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Oct 20, 2018 15:30:05 GMT -5
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Oct 20, 2018 17:34:54 GMT -5
Member of the Red Swords
age ; 24 height ; 5'10" weight ; 181 lbs appearance ; well-built. sturdy, muscular. a bit baby-faced but visibly strong. black hair, brown eyes.
father ; deceased Knight Renton moodboard
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Oct 21, 2018 9:49:48 GMT -5
Walking into the great hall of Odinheimil, drums pounded and reverberated throughout the wood. Cries went up from every long table, the women's cries shrill and ululating and in perfect contrast with the men's throaty and war-like shouts. For years to come, people would say that the feast resembled the revelries that took place every night in Valhalla. So important was Valdis to the clans of Rauttskjold that they stole the glory of Valhalla for what seemed like one eternal night.
Most of the people in the room were dressed in warm common clothes, but Valdis and the party that followed her were dressed in their armor. By the fate of Odin, she had returned the night of her twenty-first birthday from yet another successful claiming. It seemed that the Aesir were showcasing her as one of their own. Blood was painted across her cheeks and her eyes shined with the left over adrenaline from the battle, and the men and women following her looked the same. Adding even more noise to the great hall, the returning warriors slammed their axes against their sword-marked shields and let out cries of their own: victory cries.
A man that was sat at the table on the raised dais stood and clapped heartily. This was Valdis's father and it seemed at that moment that no man could be prouder. Grinning, Valdis ran to the dais and skipped up the stairs, dropping her weapons and shield as she reached the table so that she could envelop her father in a hug. Once finished reuniting, Arngeirr turned Valdis around so they both faced the clans that had joined to celebrate her birthday.
"My daughter has returned from yet another victorious claiming, and on the night of her birth nonetheless! I would say she has every one of your sorry sons beat!" A great laugh resounded throughout the hall at the king's jest. "Let the celebrations begin!"
Once released from her father's grip, Valdis downed a mug of mead and shrugged off her heavy furs, leaving her in only her armor. She quickly made her way to the part of the great hall that had been left open for dancing and revelry and challenged any man or woman that thought they were worthy of her to dance with her. Not only was this her birthday feast, it was also the night where she would begin searching for a suitor.
vocab: Odinheimil - the great hall where the royal family lives; made of the words 'Odin' and 'heimili', heimili meaning 'home of' Rauttskjold - the kingdom; made of the words 'raudur' meaning red and 'skjoldr' meaning shield Aesir - the young gods Arngeirr - the king siguvergari - the conqueror
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Oct 28, 2018 11:39:28 GMT -5
[ lemme know if this is alright/need to change anything. i didn't want to put the foiled assassination attempt in my starter so it didn't feel rushed c: ]
The framework of the hall was reminiscent of a marmoreal forest, as if it had been designed after Yggdrasil itself. The columns and ceiling beams that held the hall in its place were smooth to the touch and deep in color. The floor was lighter and more ashy in its complexion, but soft as a child’s carved doll. The grand room was a well-conceived canvas for the imagination. One could imagine that they were standing on one of the branches of the tree of life.
Aelger was familiar with this image. If he closed his eyes, he could see the green of the leaves, hues ranging from emerald to laurel; he could hear birds somewhere in the distance, and somehow near him. Yet his wandering in the universe was cut short by hollow steps. He took a deep breath in, as if to savor the illusion like mint, before he opened his eyes and met the bright gaze of she who approached.
“Henle,” he greeted her. His friend smiled, and a summery warmth filled his chest.
“Aelger.” She nodded once in acknowledgement. “What is a Red Sword like you doing with your eyes closed? You can’t convince me that it makes you better at your duties, your other senses aren’t exactly as well-trained as you may think.” She was, as always, teasing him. Aelger let a corner of his mouth lift in a smirk. Rather than entertain her, however, he told the truth.
“Revelling, I suppose.”
“Revelling?” She repeated, the light on her expression dimming for just a second before it returned, and she continued, “in here by yourself? That’s strange. You do know the celebration isn’t until the evening, don’t you? I’d say you have time before tonight.”
Aelger knew there was no reason to try and stop her now, she was enjoying herself at his expense.
“Oh, but that’s right, you can’t partake, can you? You’re much too important now for us common-folk.” At this final blow, Aelger couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.
“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry, I wish I could join you. Don’t you have anyone else to bother right now? I’m sure you’re needed so very badly, especially since you’ve got a feast to attend.”
Henlera saw right through him. “So what if I’m waiting on people? I still get to have fun. You, on the other hand, have to stand there and watch me.”
Aelger shook his head, mirroring the grin on her face. Henlera curtsied mockingly.
“But you’re right, I have better chores to do than speaking to soldiers. Carry on as you were, I’ll walk myself out.” With that, she had gone, the hem of her dress twirling around her and leaving him in the silence of the great hall. He didn’t mind. He’d been to enough of these parties, he knew they got rambunctious and loud. So he would stand in position here most of the day and night, thinking how estranged the atmospheres were between sunlight and candlelight.
Despite the fact that there was not much to guard in the empty room, and the knowledge that others of the Red Sword were with the royal family as they went about their daily business, Aelger took his assignment seriously. He had been offered this honorable station less than a month ago and couldn’t fathom what would happen if he made a mistake. There were different consequences here than there were in battle for lapses of judgement, although he guessed ‘death’ was the only outcome the situations had in common. He wasn’t close enough with the clan leaders to know much about them. The king was fair, but that was an observation based on his limited experience here, so he studied the vacant walls and paced between the dark columns, committing to memory what the hall should look like without people in it.
Not that he was afraid. On the contrary, Aelger was anxious, perhaps, to prove he deserved this. He did not realize then that this desire would be tested that very night.
--
When another Red Sword came to the hall to relieve him, he was instructed to rest and return to the hall before the feast began. Aelger obeyed, and about two hours later, he was standing on the dais behind the royal table, along with six other men, armored and at attention with red sashes across their backs. The nobility crowded the long tables, which were laden with meats and meads of rich brown and amber.
The drums began before the great doors swung open to welcome the king’s daughter, the purpose of this celebration. His own heartbeat was lost, overtaken by the drums and shouts of victory. Aelger could attest to the fact that it was a sight akin to Valhalla; it was marvelous.
The group was still wearing their armor, blood splattered on their shields and metal. He felt a swell of pride, and although his gaze swept back and forth through the room, it stopped more than once on the young woman leading the way into the hall. Valdis. He had seen her at times, passing by in corridors, but she hadn’t seen him, as was to be expected. They had been friends many years ago, before either of them had to worry about becoming the warriors their parents wanted.
She likely didn’t even remember him, while some of his fondest childhood memories were with her, playing pretend outside. Aelger would have smiled when he saw her, if he hadn’t known it wasn’t appropriate.
His attention turned to the king as the man stood. Valdis ran to embrace her father, who looked like he was beaming, showing her off in front of the clan. His words made Aelger crack a small smile that disappeared swiftly, but he retained a similar joy in his chest as earlier. Valdis deserved every part of this congratulations. She seemed to do well by her people and excelled with every challenge; they adored her, and it was easy to see why.
She faded into the crowd moments later, and Aelger returned to observing, on alert despite the festivities. Red Swords were scattered throughout the room, some standing by the columns or the doors. There were about forty of them in total; most of them were here, the rest patrolling around the castle. It was a peaceful night, perfect for the revelries in the hall.
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Nov 27, 2018 23:09:04 GMT -5
lemme know if u still want to do this. if not it's totally cool, i would just like a heads up so i know not to be expecting a response here as i have been lol if you do, that's also cool, i understand if you've been busy or tired. just lemme know so i. ya know. know.
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Nov 29, 2018 12:15:30 GMT -5
hey, sorry. life got busy and I forgot about this rp. I saw your PM a while back and meant to respond to it but never got around to it. in any case, I'd like to continue this rp but my responses are going to be much slower.
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Nov 29, 2018 20:13:30 GMT -5
no problem and no rush my dude i was just checking in to see if i should drop this lmao take all the time u need, i won't be responding any sooner than u, at least not until my finals are over in a few weeks rip
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Nov 29, 2018 21:28:29 GMT -5
While most men from the Rottskjold Clans would not mind dancing with a woman covered in blood - in fact, they might salivate at the thought of pairing up with such a shield-maiden - Valdis's male suitors from other nations, clans, and empires were not always of a like mind. Many of them preferred their women docile, motherly, and domestic. This of course left the question of just what they were doing there, courting her, running around Valdis's thoughts. As much as she would have liked to ignore those controlling cowards and dance with the ilk of her choosing, that was simply not to be.
"Dotter," Bothildr hissed. "Go and change. Your appearance is unsettling to de utländska prinsipperna and you must dance with them." The High Princess all but growled at her mother in distaste, but Bothildr was quick to put her attitude in place. However favored she might be by the clans-people, Valdis was still the High Princess and Bothildr the High Queen. "Ah, ah, ah! Those are your father's wishes, not mine. You and I both know that if I had it my way, de prinsipperna would be sitting outside in the rain. Now, go!"
"Fine," was all Valdis had to say in return before she stalked out of the great hall. She didn't stay long in her rooms getting dressed; she wasn't one to dally about trying to find her most expensive or most sultry outfit. Any old dress would do, but her hair did need to be fixed. Luckily she had her serving maids to attend to that for her, which further sped along the process of her changing. Even though she didn't try to, she looked every bit the queen she would one day be when she returned to the festivities. Her dress was the color of the roiling sea lined with gold stitching to show her royal heritage. A necklace of gold and opal lay on her collar and matching gemstones were inlaid in her hair. To bring the outfit together and show her precedence over her siblings, a long cloak of sealskin hung from her shoulders and was clasped around her neck with a heavy chain of gold that she herself had plundered.
Ingolfr, of course, couldn't help but giggle. "Valdis," he tsked. "You would really give yourself to one of those spineless kings? I had thought only Thor could have taken your hand in marriage."
Valids raised a golden eyebrow at the tall warrior and positioned her hands on her hips. "If anything, I would be the one to take his hand in marriage," she jested. "But yes. If it was required of me for the benefit of the Rauttskjold, I would." It wasn't anything she wanted to do but she was utterly loyal to her people; it would always be their needs before hers.
Ingolfr fortunately understood her morals better than anybody and laid an affectionate hand on her shoulder before looking out to the crowd and shouting, "What man here claims the right of the first dance with our High Princess, de siguvegari?"
vocab: dotter - daughter de utländska prinsipperna - the foreign princelings
images: valdis's dress
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Jan 2, 2019 14:44:46 GMT -5
lol i am taking just as long as you did to respond so we're totally even now xD i plan on responding today/this week!
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Jan 2, 2019 20:57:28 GMT -5
It was some time later that his eyes were again fixed upon the high princess. She had presumably left to change, and Aelger remained vigilant in her absence, watching people dance and interact at the tables. Most were recognizably from their own clans, but amidst the dark, earthy tones of furs, he saw many guests adorned in paler pallets of silver and blue. Princes from other lands of a nobler, more prim disposition. They were almost feminine in his eyes, which normally would not be an insult, but some of their foreign eyes were wide with discomfort and possibly fear. They looked like they did not want to be here.
Of course, this was not true for all of them. Aelger noticed the ones that strutted between groups of people, confident and charming, making connections as was their royal duty in a strange land, at a party such as this. One in particular was making a large number of the Rauttskjold laugh, which was a difficult task, made easier with flowing mead and a recent victor, but the one prince that he was watching seemed to enjoy the strange celebratory atmosphere, despite how it might have differed from a feast in his own country.
The doors opened once more and half the room fell silent to appreciate Valdis as she returned, dressed elegantly as the queen yet somehow more imposing, her chin lifted and eyes downcast, as if all of the princes were beneath her. They’re unworthy.
He spotted Ingolfr approaching Valdis, exchanging words with her before addressing the room, giving a challenge of a dance to the suitors. Aelger wasn’t surprised to see the dark-haired prince whom moments ago he’d been watching step forward.
“I claim the right, your Highness.” He said, projecting his voice above all the others.
“Carmichael,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to Valdis and smiling. Aelger’s attention was torn away from them when he registered movement in the corner of his eye. The soldier beside him was adjusting his grip on his spear.
On the main floor, people began to make a space for Valdis and Carmichael as they began dancing. Aelger wondered for a moment why the man hadn’t mentioned his origins. It was usual to do so, common courtesy even, especially in a gathering with different nations.
Aelger’s fellow soldier was fidgeting again, his stance widening, causing Aelger to glance sideways at him this time. They weren’t supposed to move if they could help it. The man caught him looking and gave a slight nod. He knew.
Aelger faced forward again, watching Valdis spinning around, almost forgetting the prince was there. Almost. That is, until he pulled a knife from his belt, standing behind Valdis and holding a knife to her throat. They stopped spinning.
Aelger had hardly blinked before the other Red Swords on the floor had surrounded the pair.
“Keep away!” Carmichael threatened. The king stood from his throne, and the man beside Aelger leaped forward, brandishing his spear at the king’s back, intending to run him through. Aelger used his own spear to deflect the attack before jabbing the point at the betrayer’s side between his armor. The man buckled as the others surrounded him. Aelger turned to see Valdis struggling. He didn’t doubt she could take care of herself, but still he ran down the steps.
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