A religious zealot has been traveling through all the cities of Elyria and spreading fear and a warning. A great storm is coming, one even worse than then the one that destroyed much of their land. This one will kill the rest of the land, leading to their ultimate destruction. Warning them that if nothing is done they will all perish.
Is he right? Is there anything they can do to stop the storm? Or is he spreading fear in order to create chaos or even in an attempt to bring the people together as one as they work to survive?
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Post by Miles Madsen on Jul 12, 2015 18:51:45 GMT -5
One did not rise to a company command within the Marauders without having at least a solid grasp of being able to read people. And in the case of Arabella Sparkfyre, he could sense wave after wave of uncertainty flowing from her. And with reason, one would think. Her seat had been taken from her by rebels, her loyalists hunted down and butchered, most of her so-called nobles who can't even be bothered to answer her letters. And now, she was penned in in a small coastal town with a mob that would like nothing more that to spike her head on top of the walls, amongst other atrocities they would like to visit upon the young queen. So of course she would belittle her position right now. "That's where you're wrong. A lot of nobles wouldn't have stuck around in a case like this. Instead of sailing off to establish a court in exile somewhere, you decided to stick around your islands to bring things to right. That calls for some serious guts."
As she spoke, the mercenary found himself drawn closer to the slender, warm form of the young queen. In fact, his chest and hers were nearly touching when he took a deep breath and his shirt connected with her dress. And then, all coherent thought escaped him. One hand came up to cup her cheek, the other about the small of her back to draw her near and he bent his head down to plant a kiss upon her lips.
Post by Arabella Sparkfyre on Jul 16, 2015 18:59:42 GMT -5
The young queen couldn't believe him. After all, Remington had said similar things, but there was a harsh reality still. What choice did she even have but to return? There was no real escape for her. Where would the Sparkfyres go for exile? The Acaedian empire would deal with a Toren princess being married in, but for an entire ruling family? Especially the one that was in power during the bitter war? Not a chance. The Vanir ways were too different, no one would adapt well enough and it would be worse of a struggle, and the Wyraki would probably have them killed sooner than later. Anywhere across the sea they wouldn't have provisions for. She had no jewels to barter or even a crown. Ara was simply the daughter of a good king and the sister of a bad one, so what choice did Arabella have but to stick around?
All those thoughts were interrupted before any words could fall from her lips, by another pair of lips. It was as fast as it was slow and all she felt was the heat of another close body, a rough hand cupping her cheek, and a gentle kiss on her lips. On instinct, her hand raised to touch his neck when she pulled forward against him. The movement had her flowy white dress falling off her shoulder, which she didn't quite notice.
Post by Miles Madsen on Aug 6, 2015 15:37:20 GMT -5
Being unarmoured at the time, Miles had the singular pleasure of feeling Arabella pressing against his chest as he kissed her. And when he felt her hand reach his neck, he could not help but notice how the fabric of her gown had shifted, and a quick look down revealed what had happened when the expanse of flesh that showed from her shoulder, and much further down.
If anything, Miles was very much a red-blooded man. And considering that the queen had yet to break their kiss, not to say that she was responding to it quite well to say the least, he took further action. Gently, he pried her hand from behind his neck and guided her arm down before he reached for her gown and slipped the fabric off of her other shapely shoulder. Slowly, he then began to tug the fabric down, and before long gravity took over to leave the dress in a puddle at the young woman's feet.
Still holding the kiss, the soldier once more placed his hands upon the young queen. Both started at her sides, but one went around to the small of her back to draw her to him, and the other, it began a slow, gentle climb up her side.