• domhnall
    Welcome to the kingdoms of Morbourne, Fallhaven and Valcoast. These cities of Domhnall are unique but tied together; Trades occur, merchants travel and treaties are reviewed, signed and broken: it's a way of life. The population is a mix of humans and mages, with the ruling bodies of each kingdom the latter: super powered and deadly. Though for now there is peace, a stable peace, as each depends on the others to maintain the delicate chains of life. What all citizens of every country have most in common however is their védo, a beast that is bonded to them and protects them from the dangers of this world. In a world where loyalty is everything, which side will you choose?


 
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 coming home, alaric
rosemary cressida bennett
 Posted: Jan 5 2015, 10:08 PM
Quote
Jazzy
7 posts
Thirty
Fallhavener
Human


It would have been a lie if she had said she hadn't run to the bow of the ship, hands gripping the rail tight as her eyes searched for the first signs of Morbourne. The woman had never seen the country of her birthplace and she had to admit that she was excited to see it. For twenty-six years she had grown up in a place that did not want her, did not accept her. And finally she was home. While the excitement was tempered by several factors, the fact her father was not here with her and her mother, the trips duration, and the fact that she was a lady and not prone to excited out bursts, Rosemary found herself eager to see the new land.

And then the true traveling began. She had been accustomed to being ferried to each island, the ship's soft rocking was familiar to her. But the hard, long, and seemingly endless carriage ride to the capital city Dorholt was one that had left her uncomfortable and exhausted. She had been eager to see the new land, but after a few hours of long, endless traveling she had rested her head upon her mother's shoulder and fallen asleep. It was the sound of the city that awoke the girl, pulling her from dark dreams of the endless deep and someone calling her name, a large, strong hand reaching for her yet remaining just out of range. Horrifying to say the least, but the woman pressed it down in favor to right herself.

Lady Rosemary Bennett and her parents were supposed to return to Morbourne almost three years ago, but her father's wrongful death had upset those plans. Ever since the day that the guards of the palace came to take her father away, her and her mother had been considered prisoners. Perhaps not out right told, but they could not leave the quarters they were given, not even to go to town to find food. And just a week ago there had been a plan to free the Lady and her mother, executed in the dead of the night. It had, obviously, proven fruitful as now Rosemary and her mother were in Dorholt, going to meet the King. Nerves wrung deep in the woman's belly, especially since the death of her father had not been known in Morbourne.

Not only did she need to tell the King of her father's death and their harrowing three years as prisoners in Valcoast, but she needed to inform him that for the last ten years it was her who had been the one to send him reports from Valcoast. Ever since she could right her father had given her the task, and it had warped into her taking his place as his age caught up to him. She was very much sure that King Endellion would not expect that, and given what she had learned from her mother, the traditions and culture was vastly different then the harsh Valcoast. Rosemary's mother had raised her best she could in the ways of a Morbournian Lady, but without the presence of a community to instill that culture, she had been stained with Oceanborn tendencies.

They arrived at the palace, a gleaming, beautiful place that looked so promising to Rosemary. It brought a lightness to her heart, as if she was finally home and that white walled castle was a beacon of hope to her. She brushed her hair from her face and gathered her skirts as the door to the carriage was opened, taking the hand of a helper as she climbed from the carriage, brilliant hazel eyes scanning the area before moving slowly to the foot of the castle, and to the man who stood there. Once her mother was escorted out of the carriage the pair made their way to their King, while her mother remained demure and kept her gaze lowered, Rosemary was awe struck and without realizing it, kept the man's gaze without so much as a single glance away.

It was the boldness that had been instilled within her growing up in Valcoast, a nasty habit her mother tried to get her to quit, but she just couldn't shake. Your Highness. Someone, she wasn't sure who, some sort of attendant, began introducing the two. Lady Lillian Bennett, and her daughter, Lady Rosemary Bennett Both women curtsied for the king, though when her mother's head dipped low, Rosemary's eyes remained on the King. He was the embodiment of her country, a country she had never been to before. Curiosity ran rampant, spread easily across her face. Be careful Rosemary! He is a King after all, remember your manners Only the soft voice of her vedu had Rosemary's eyes averting, if only for a moment.
The little margay had trotted up to Rosemary's side, settling down before glancing up at her bonded's face. Between the two of them, Hestia embodied the best of what Rosemary's mother tried to teach Rosemary. "My Lord, it is a great pleasure to finally have the chance to come to the place of my birth." The woman stepped forward, smile slight and polite.
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This post has been edited by rosemary cressida bennett: Jan 6 2015, 04:38 PM
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alaric leontis endellion
 Posted: Jan 7 2015, 03:17 AM
Quote
babz
4 posts
thirty-four
Morbournian
Mage


and stay forever
wanna go back
Alaric sat his throne impatiently, but he was postured as no king. Not even a nobleman would have placed him in such disarray. He was still half-dressed between his practice leathers and court robes, with the missing pieces of his wardrobe strung across the various rooms he had wandered through while changing. His hair hung wild and unkempt in loose waves against his jaw and neck, the dark locks still damp with sweat near the roots. He should have bathed. He should have done something other than wander about stupidly thinking of what he would say, and how he would say it.

The Sir Bennett the man's father had spoken of had been an impressive fellow, and brave too if he had taken his family to Valcoast if only in service of the kingdom. Alaric was the king, and he would not even take a wife in order to give his kingdom an heir..

And now he was thinking about those damn marriage papers again.. 'Tytos save me.' The disheveled creature sent up a silent prayer to his god as horrible images of scrolls and scrolls full of eligible women he could have ben courting. Yet here he was, warming his ass against a pile of furs that draped haphazardly over his throne. Worthless. Absolutely worthless.

"You really should be dressed already." Bael drawled across their link, the massive beast sprawled onto his side as if he were dozing.

Al had time to be vaguely amazed by his védu, and how such a proud and dangerous creature could slump into such a lazy lounge cat.

Baelor growled lowly in his pseudo slumber, his tail flipping in mock irritation. "Careful.." His voice hovered somewhere between a warning and a threat, but the yawn hidden beneath it abolished any sense aggression.

The lion was right, however, Alaric still had the rest of him to dress and the lord Bennett would arrive any moment with his family in tow. It wouldn't do for them to see him in such a state disrepair. Sighing grudgingly, the man tilted forward until he very fairly toppled out of the platformed throne, stumbling lazily to keep himself from falling. Seeing his bonded on the move, Baelor gave a lions yawn and a languid stretch before shoving his hulking frame onto all fours and padding after the man.

His sleeping chambers were how he left them, absolute chaos. Clothes and weapons strewn about without care, a pair of boots in front of the door for him to trip over, documents that look particularly important laying dangerously close to the hearth which of course held a fire that seemed to just urge and reach for the combustibles, begging to consume them. Alaric grinned and felt himself relax, if only slightly - 'Home sweet home.' He thought to himself, already picking his way across the plush carpeting to where a servant had draped an outfit across the bed for him. Part of it was already being worn, the other part was now being stared while the king debated how put together he really had to look for these people. A rumbling growl from Bael made up his mind for him and the man went about changing into the new clothes.

He was still clasping the ornament bracers over the ends of his sleeves when a servant came to knock. "Sire, the Bennett family has arrived. They are opening the gates now."

"Shit..." The king hissed between his teeth, moving frantically for a small washing basin that sat on a long desk to the side of his hearth. "I'll be right there!" Alaric's voice was sharper than he meant it to be, and he made a point to try and think about apologizing for that later as he splashed cold water over his face and shook it through his hair before slicking the wavy, dark mass back against his head in an attempt to tame it. He snatched a belt from the foot of his bed, wrapping it around his waist and cinching it loosely around his surcoat to let it hang on his hips like a suggestion of how easily it could come off. Finally, he threw a hoodless cloak over his shoulders, and refastened his sword belt over the one already worn and blew through the door as if his rooms were ablaze.

The servant had gone, probably off to fetch some sort of refreshment for their guests, and Alaric and Baelor were left to find their own way to the front gates. The pair rushed as quickly as their appearance would allow them, looking for all intents and purposes as a pair of delinquents rushing guiltily away from a crime. When the king and his védu reached the large front doors was the first moment he felt his anxiety as a presence rather than a possibility. He had been waiting for it all day. It had distracted him in the practice ring, and earned him the beginnings of a lovely bruise already flowering across the sharp hinge of his jaw. Then its absence had drug him about the castle, leaving a stream of dirty clothes and muddy boots in his wake. Now it slammed into him like a wall, holding his feet fast against the marble floor and making his breath tighten through his chest. He was about to meet one of the few people his father had been close with..

Briefly, a twinge of sadness crossed behind his eyes, and Bael looked up at him with concerned questioning. But this was not a time for regrets or the past, this was a time to welcome guests and act his part as the king. Alaric nodded to the servants to open the doors of the castle, a grim determination setting his face in a solid plane of distanced reserve as he stepped through the entry way and on the front pavilion. He strode evenly across the polished marble, stopping at the edge of the steps and looking down upon the well manicured court yard where two women were currently climbing out of a carriage.

Two women. He waited a breath. Still only two women. He exhaled. They were closing the carriage doors now. His jaw tensed. The carriage was driving away and still there were only two women on his front step. "Where the hell is he?" The man was fuming. Even his bonded seemed a bit on edge by this strange turn. Alaric might have decorated that step forever had a herald not jolted him from his frustrations.

"Your highness," the servant began, introducing first the mother and then the daughter in turn as the king stepped smoothly upon each stair, slowly descending to greet them on a little bit more even ground. He stopped once his boots hit the cracked stone the pathways across his estates were lined with in order to keep mud from spreading, his heels thudding soundly against the solid surface. The two women were slight in their build, and even on level ground he was still looking down his nose at them.

Alaric cast a glance to each woman as their names were given by his servant. The mother offered the expected response of a Morbournian lady, hiding behind her reserve and feminine civilities. The daughter on the other hand, Rosemary... She was intriguing. The dark headed man met her gaze, his dark eyes boring into the lighter reflection of her hazel spheres and daring her to look away. He wondered if she was looking hard enough to find the demons there, he wondered if she was looking at him at all. That certainly would be his luck, a beautiful woman staring right through him.

Baelor made a chuffing noise across their link, similar to as if he had cleared his throat mentally. It was enough to knock Alaric into the present and catch what Rosemary had said to him. The king gave a stiff smile, abruptly remembering who had truly been waiting for this evening. "I trust it to be a great change from the climate and people of Valcoast," the man began, making sure to keep his voice formal yet personable as he continued, "But where is the lord Bennett this evening? I had expected his presence as well." A missing lord, and a young lady who was bod enough to address him before he had even offered them welcome. He was on edge this evening, and he couldn't help but listen to the nagging voice in the back of his mind that whispered something wasn't quite right.

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rosemary cressida bennett
 Posted: Jan 10 2015, 12:29 AM
Quote
Jazzy
7 posts
Thirty
Fallhavener
Human


Rosemary had learned a unmentioned law while growing up in Valcoast.Learned it young when she'd turned her back on another Oceanborn girl, let her eyes skitter from the skinny, devious, little thing. She had a scar along her shoulder to remind her not to turn her back on anyone. So, when the man's gaze fell onto her almost daring her to look away she found herself stubbornly resisting, expression as polite and respectful as can be, but hazel eyes flashed with desire to stay strong. To hold his gaze until the creature at her side huffed, indignant that Rosemary was being so rude. "Rose! Quit it, before you get us sent back to that cold rock Came the low hiss from her bonded partner. Only then did Rosemary find her gaze dropping to the small creature who was staring intently back up at her.

The slight woman yearned to reach down and run a hand over her bonded's head, wishing to feel the soft fur that always gave her a small bit of comfort. She found herself turning back to the man however, meeting the man's eyes once more. He was an attractive man, if she took a moment to regard him. All dark and smoldering, if she had been any less of who she was she might have even found herself cowed by his gaze. But she didn't, though her mother remained with her eyes downcast and posture demure. Perhaps it was this bold show of independence that allowed her to see the stiffness with which he regarded her with. He was expecting her father. Her heart gave an uncomfortable thump from within her chest, and Hestia's ears flattened for the briefest of moments.

No matter the time that had passed, she continually mourned her father. He was taken far before his time, in the most brutal of manners. This time when her gaze flitted from the man it was not because of her bonded, but because she dare not let the man see what lay within her eyes. Weakness was death in Valcoast, and that thought was hard to kill, even in this new place. "It certainly is. I feel as if I am finally home, the entire country is far more welcoming than the harsh coasts of Valcoast." She had no doubt that the man would agree with her, though her words remained respectful. Rosemary had met a few people in the bitter country to know that not all wished death and pain on others.

Rosemary was quick to step forward, the physical action an attempt to shield her mother from the words of the King. While not meant to bring despair, Rosemary knew very well that they would only weigh heavily upon her mother's heart. "My Lord, it has been a very long journey for my mother. Perhaps she could be shown to her quarters for some rest? Her gaze bore into the man, her words were no where near demanding, but she wouldn't move an inch or speak another word until her mother was comfortable and resting. The moment the request was granted she found herself turning to her mother, reaching for the other woman's hands and whispering soft words to the quiet woman. Hesita trotted to her mother's small feline vedu, bumping heads with the cat before the two were escorted towards the castle.

"Perhaps we could find a quieter place to speak Your Highness." She murmured to the dark haired man, gaze finding him again as he relented and the pair found themselves crossing the brilliant marble that lined the courtyard towards the doors of the castle. "I am afraid that my father will not be coming." The moment the words were out she knew she could speak no more, not until she collected herself. Admitting it out loud, confirming his death to someone else, felt as if someone was pushing down on her chest, trying to cave her chest cavity in and rip her heart through the gnarled remains of her ribs. So she followed the man in silence, afraid that her voice would be the thing to give her away.
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alaric leontis endellion
 Posted: Jan 10 2015, 01:27 AM
Quote
babz
4 posts
thirty-four
Morbournian
Mage


and stay forever
wanna go back
She was an intriguing creature; her stubbornness mixing so wildly with the will to obey and behave. Alaric could see the want to be accepted in her eyes, and alongside it the bitter bite of a creature left too long to its own devices. He silently wondered how much of her fiery bloody had been doused by the Valcoast sea, how much of her still belonged to her king and how much had been swept away for the sake of survival in a foreign land.

There was a tangible shift in atmosphere at the king’s question, and the moment the words passed across his lips he wished to reclaim them from the air they now filled like smoke. Alaric felt his védu register the other feline’s despair, and they shared the guild of ignorance between them, neither knowing what had happened in the years this family had been away. Perhaps if he had received some inkling of information toward the lord Bennett’s wellbeing he could have avoided such a tense and awkward situation. He too had lost his father too early, and he would know to walk carefully around such tender pains. Instead, his unawareness flew at the two women like a physical attack, and while he could not understand the anguish he had reminded them of, Alaric knew he had said the wrong thing somehow.

Rosemary stepped forward immediately, her body a shield for her mother as if she would catch his words before they could crash against the older woman. Again, the man was hit by the fact that something was very wrong. In the back of his mind he started to wonder exactly where was the lord Bennett..? Dread flooded his chest and make his diaphragm constrict painfully even as adrenaline flooded his veins with white hot lead; the lord’s absence was beginning to become more than just a concern.

Alaric nodded quickly at the daughter’s request on behalf of her mother. Yes, he was sure it had been quite a trek from Valcoast to Morbourne, and a weight hung heavily upon the elder woman’s shoulders. ”Yes, of course.” The man agreed with a nod. Rose’s words had been a mild suggestion, a brief imposition of a woman’s courtesy. Alaric’s words were not so. When he next spoke, his voice was hard and demanding, the voice of a king rather than merely the man who held the title. ”Their rooms were prepared today, escort the lady to her chambers and ensure the hearths have been kept warm. Stoke the fires and get more wood if need be. See to her needs afterward.” The servant he had been speaking to nodded quickly and scurried to complete his task, his beagle védu trailing behind and acting as escort to the feline bonded to the elder lady.

”She seems broken.” Baelor’s voice rumbled ominously within Alaric’s own thoughts, and the king nodded mutely, agreeing with the lion as the two shared a glance that spoke more than their words.

Returning his attention to the young lady, Alaric’s demeanor seemed to soften and soothe. His voice, thought it kept some of its formality, was warmer than it had been before. If she looked close enough, Rosemary might have seen the beginnings of an apology in his dark eyes. ”What happened..?” There was more to his question than there might have seemed. He could assume some horrible fate to have befallen the lord Bennett, but he could not fathom why or how. Not even Valcoast would promise the return of a man only to murder him the day before he was to leave for home, unless perhaps the journey was even longer for the lord than for his wife? It was all so very frustratingly confusing and full of violent possibility.

The young woman requested a quiet place to speak, and Alaric forced his stiffened neck into a jerky nod. ”Of course, lady. Follow me.” Everything he feared had been confirmed in her appeal for a better location, and the king’s voice was stiff and forced as he spoke through the many emotions that swam through him.

The differences in their upbringing could have been illustrated with the simple turn as the man made his way back up the steps and toward the massive doors of his castle. Just moments ago, Rosemary had wrestled with the need to remain polite and respectful toward her ruler, and yet had been unable to take her eyes away from his own gaze out of an instinct of self-preservation that had been carved into her by the cruelties of Valcoast. Now Alaric – the king no less, who had every reason to carry paranoid suspicion – turned his back on a perfect stranger to lead her into his home, trusting her to be loyal for no other reason than the fact that she shared the blood of this land. The thought that she might develop some sort of aggression while his back was turned never once crossed his mind.

Alaric led her down a few hallways and up a flight of stairs. The castle might have seemed as a maze to one who was unfamiliar with its many twists and turns, but the king knew well enough where he was going and he did not question his path once. When he stopped to open a richly lacquered door, ornamented with carved designs of two rearing lions with maws opened in a vicious roar and two rubies for their eyes, she would find herself directed into a large study. A heavy, oaken desk sat facing the door with a highbacked chair behind it and a large window overlooking the husk of what had once been a well-groomed garden before winter had frozen it away. On the left of the room was a giant hearth in which a fire burst into life as the king entered, its warmth immediately blossoming to fill the cozy room. Before the hearth faced a lounge couch and another highbacked chair, each covered with thick blankets of soft fur. It was plush and meant for luxury, but the smell of parchment and ink reminded one of its practical use.

”We may speak freely here.” Alaric said, moving across the thick carpet to motion her sit on the couch, pulling aside the blanket so that she could or could not use depending upon her own bidding. ”This is my personal study, no one will bother us without reason.” Once she took a seat, he would go and call for a servant outside the door, asking that hot water be brought for tea and perhaps something to eat for the lady. The servant nodded and went on his way.

Alaric leaned against the stones of the hearth and faced Rose, letting the warmth of his fire seep into his bones. Her words sent a chill through him that not even his flames could sear, however, and a dark shadow passed over his face with a grim look of foreboding. ”By your reaction in the courtyard…I knew something was amiss.” The king admitted slowly, choosing his words carefully. It was a difficult subject, and he had no desire to cause her any more pain than she was already in. ”I know it is cannot be easy to speak of, but I must know what became of your father, the lord Bennett. He was a faithful friend to my father, and a loyal diplomat to the kingdom, his absence cannot go unexplained.” Al tried to keep his voice even and gentle, but he couldn’t help the bit of formality that slipped in at the end.

Bael slumped to the floor slowly, his massive body a tawny smear upon the thickly carpeted room. He stretched along his side on the opposite side of the hearth from his bonded, finding a comfortable position before crossing his front paws and letting his burning orange eyes pass from lord to lady as they spoke.

tag: jazzyfish! || notes: so excited to finally use this guy x3
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