Tir la Morr
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Registered: Jan 23, 2018 19:38:21 GMT -8
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Post by Tir la Morr on Jan 24, 2018 17:03:48 GMT -8
The Palace - Great Hall
The main chamber of The Tyrant in Gold 's palace. This opulent location plays double duty both as the grand feasting chamber during any events he may hold and his throne room for conducting state business.
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The Tyrant in Gold
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Standing at a towering eight feet in height, The Tyrant is never seen outside of his golden armor. The suit itself is a serviceable set of plate with only a few ornamental frills. His helmet has been shaped to resemble a crown, a few extra spikes on the shoulders and gauntlets.
Of course, most who view The Tyrant do not even remember his armor. The only thing visible of the creature within in are the eyes. The Tyrant's eyes are two glowing embers that seem to seeth with power and cruelty. When one is arrested by those eyes they know they are but a commodity to be used or discarded based on value.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:03:42 GMT -8
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Post by The Tyrant in Gold on Jan 25, 2018 19:32:20 GMT -8
The lord of all Sidhe, king of Tir la Morr, The Tyrant in Gold sat within the opulence of his hall. He sat within the golden armor he'd worn during his great and bloody war. The shining shell glowing with an ominous luster that drew the eye with its obvious splendor and chilled the blood with its subtle power. Yet even the imposing silhouette cut by his armor was nothing compared to the terror of his eyes. The Tyrant sat with perfect posture within his throne those glowing embers staring across the hall at the door as he waits for his court to arrive.
One year ago he'd started his campaign against the Sidhe. Six months ago it had ended with Lonan's surrender and his splitting of the old courts into the new Houses, equivalent to human Duchies. Now after a year to settle their affairs, the old houses working to adapt to their new roles, the new houses settling into them, it was time for a council. It was time for his chosen four to come before him and report on their progress and the news of the realm. It was time for them to participate in politics.
A letter arrived by way of raven and The Tyrant reads the scroll, when he finishes it he gestures. A servant approaches taking the letter and instruction. The ruler of Spring had written to inform him she would be late due to a lame horse. If this was true she would be forgiven but if she was simply stalling there would be repercussions. Still, the other three should be on time he wonders which will be first to arrive. Returning to his vigil The Tyrant waits.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Jan 26, 2018 4:08:57 GMT -8
The sound of giggling was heard as Hayzea floated within, her wings flapping gently. She wore long gloves which went to her elbows. She remained floating, with the mischievous look that she always wore.
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Lonan the Summer-King
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: Lonan is King of the House of Summer of Tir la Morr and, even compared to other fae, is known for his somewhat outlandish attitude and personality. He is the embodiment of all that is the summer fae: mischievous, virile and hotheaded; Yet also good-hearted, loved and courageous. As with many other fae, his real name is kept a close secret with Lonan being merely a public moniker.
Lonan's natural form is that of a man-sized fae with fair features and pointed ears but he can also change his shape into that of a winged fae only a few inches tall, an antlered stag or a brown bear. In addition he has the natural fae ability to 'glamour', or change the superficial elements of his appearance in order to appear to be someone else. Unlike shape-shifting, the ability to glamour is only a surface illusion.
On top of this Lonan is renowned as a warrior of the fae and his skills with the bow are legendary, though he is also capable with the sword, the spear and the summer school of magic.
Lonan is also infamous as a hot-headed womaniser. He has no political wife or great love and often claims that his heart is too big to be captured by one woman alone. The Summer House is a place of near constant merrymaking, dancing, music and noble fae. As a result Lonan is said to have over 100 children by near that number of women, though he holds no paternal instinct except slight amusement at the matter and regards any offspring no more than the rest of his people.
Registered: Jan 23, 2018 18:37:20 GMT -8
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Post by Lonan the Summer-King on Jan 26, 2018 14:41:59 GMT -8
Next to enter was Lonan, in the same ceremonial garb he always wore: a merging of traditional sidhe attire and seelie armour fit for a king, with a sword at his hip and a bow and quiver of arrows at his back! Unless the guards were absolutely adamant that he entered unarmed, in which case he would have reluctantly given them up. They were only for show, of course, but what was more important than that? Plus a bow could always come in handy, especially in negotiations with rival factions!
Despite the events of the last year, the summer-king seemed surprisingly free-spirited and cheerful and when he had walked far enough down the hall to look the Tyrant in the eyes, he lowered himself in an exaggerated bow with his arm reaching up behind him and his fingers curling inwards like spirals.
"I greet thee, o' great and humble one. O' MIGHTY and MAGNIFICENT overlord who rules over all fae without equal; whose muscles bulge and shine in the light like they have been oiled - even when no oil has been applied. Whose manhood is the largest and most masculine in ALL the overworld, and whose reasonably sized testes have not one hair and are like grapes to the average man's raisins!"
Rather suddenly, he lay back on the floor with his arms and legs out in the shape of a star. "I castrate myself helplessly before thy unrelenting and unmatched power! I beg thee not to have thy guards tie ropes to my limbs and pull me apart, or subject me to another and equally horrendous fate!"
He rolled backwards over his head and stopped on his knees, before springing up back to his feet. "This insignificant and powerless king is at your service, o' lord!" He cried, ending his rather stupid performance with his eyes closing and his arm reaching out towards the one in gold armour, only for it to curl back slightly inwards with his fingers closed into a fist and an expression of utter piety on his face.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Jan 27, 2018 15:55:39 GMT -8
Hayzea rolls her eyes at the theatrics of her colleague, dark eyes frenziedly gazing across the room.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 11:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2018 20:48:10 GMT -8
Upon the arrival of the Winter Queen, of which there was never a doubt, the floor spidered with frost, advancing with every step. She moved with such grace that there was no bobble in her movements. Such jubilance was unsightly, better left for the fools of warmer courts to perform. No glare came to those who disgusted her with such a lack of restraint- it was hard to tell when she had eyes like a corpse. Still, the pervasive nature of the Winter Queen's being, the incessant itching at the back of the mind that was always there when she was around, seemed to spike for a rare moment before smoothing out to its usual, dull hum.
The icy fae was dressed splendidly, as was typical. Her dress, high-necked, modest, plain in color, could almost distract one from the bizarre scene that was the woman's wintry complexion and the reflective markings upon her skin. That was, until one looked closely, eyeing the bustle: at a glance they were roses, but a closer look revealed bony fingers twisted in spirals.
When she stepped before the Tyrant, she gave him a very formal, but far from superfluous, curtsey. It was short but respectful. Isolde understood her boundaries well,
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Vanhin
New
Roleplay posts: 8
Physical Description: Standing at only four feet tall, Vanhin’s appearance is nearly the opposite of imposing. His hair and beard is a pure snow white, both being rather unstyled and wild looking. His face is crinkled with smile lines and his eyes almost always have a certain twinkle to them. His skin is tough and leathery, possessing a color that suggests he has spent much time in the sun.
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Clothes and Equipment: Vanhin can usually be found in a rather plain woolen jacket that’s some variety of brown overtop baggy pants and a shirt of deep green. Around his waist is a leather belt secured with a silver buckle, perhaps the only valuable material on his entire outfit. On his head is a straw hat with an exceptionally brilliant red feather sticking out of it. His leather boots look quite worn but still in good condition. Other than his clothing, Vanhin only carries around a dark green bag, which possesses a variety of ever-changing objects in it, the one constant being his wooden flute.
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Registered: Jan 23, 2018 17:07:12 GMT -8
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Post by Vanhin on Jan 27, 2018 21:56:20 GMT -8
Vanhin enters the room, still skipping as he approaches the Tyrant in Gold. Although he takes brief note of the others with a glance, it is clear most of his attention is focused solely on the Tyrant. Despite the imposing presence of the armored figure, the twinkle in Vanhin’s eyes remains as does his slight smile. If he felt out of place in this opulent room with his rather ordinary clothes, it didn't show. Upon reaching what he feels is an appropriate distance from the Tyrant, the old Fae brings himself to a sudden halt, folding his right hand across his chest and offering a bow that was surprisingly smooth compared to the rest of his movements.
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The Tyrant in Gold
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Standing at a towering eight feet in height, The Tyrant is never seen outside of his golden armor. The suit itself is a serviceable set of plate with only a few ornamental frills. His helmet has been shaped to resemble a crown, a few extra spikes on the shoulders and gauntlets.
Of course, most who view The Tyrant do not even remember his armor. The only thing visible of the creature within in are the eyes. The Tyrant's eyes are two glowing embers that seem to seeth with power and cruelty. When one is arrested by those eyes they know they are but a commodity to be used or discarded based on value.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:03:42 GMT -8
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Post by The Tyrant in Gold on Jan 28, 2018 9:46:10 GMT -8
The first to enter was Hayzea which did not surprise The Tyrant. The childlike Fae was often eager to please and while she made no obvious signs of subservience she at least maintained some semblance of composure even if she did giggle like a child. Better to giggle like one than act like one though as the King of Summer enters and immediately goes about making a mockery of himself. Of course, The Tyrant knew the purpose of Lonan's act it was to pay disrespect through exaggerated respect. It was an entirely Seelie way of dealing with things and The Tyrant wonders just how heavily Lonan's capitulation to the throne weighs upon the once King of Summer.
Next to arrive was Isolde who managed to toe the line between being comfortable within her subservience while also displaying her own power. Bringing in the winter chill with her every step but giving an obvious signifier of her subservience in her curtsey. Not surprising the Unseelie were ever more serious, at least on the surface, than their cousins. Isolde had also been present when the former Queen of winter had lost her head. Did that image still haunt the young replacement?
Last was Vanhin who also toes the line between respect for the crown while not utterly abasing himself. The old Fae had designs to maintain ownership of his forest something the previous rulers of the Fae had not cared for. In The Tyrant's kingdom though there was no room for neutrality not if one wanted to own land the size of Vanhin's domain. So the old Fae had been given the same ultimatum as he had the other rulers and it appears as though he'd chosen to serve.
"I will spare you punishment if you did what I bid Lonan. Though if you have not I will remember your fixation on genitalia when it comes time to decide your punishment."
The glowing embers of The Tyrant's eyes had swept over each of them in turn before returning to the Summer lord. The Tyrant's voice is deep and rumbling, yet perfectly clear. The voice of something from the sinister nightmares of mortals. He cared not how Lonan comported himself in word so long as the Summer Lord did as he was told. The Tyrant knew that trying to crush the flippancy from the Seelie was a fruitless endeavor and would not waste breath chastising the once king. However, a reminder of the potential cost of disobedience was certainly fitting. The Tyrant's punishments on those who disobeyed him were quickly becoming the stuff of legends and nightmares.
"Morrigan has been delayed but we will start without her. It is time for you to report on the progress you have made. What progress have you made in acclimating the Fae in your territories to the new rule of law?"
The Tyrant's attention goes to Hayzea now his intent is to have them give their reports in the order they came in. For the moment Vanhin would not be addressed as he was not a ruler within Tir la Morr and this took precedence. Should any of them try to interrupt the other they would draw The Tyrant's attention and displeasure.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Jan 28, 2018 10:32:05 GMT -8
"The fae of my court, for the most part are acclimating quite quickly to the new law you imposed, my lord. Although they are struggling to accept the way of my management, given their.. Upbringing."
With this, she gives a snide glance to Isolde. She did not like the Winter Fae, not one bit. While Summer was quite amusing, Winter was far too serious for Hayzea's liking. She quietly chortled about Lonan's punishment.
"I managed to however show them why my management is superior." She clasps her hands together, a seemingly innocent smile flitting across her face. A seemingly innocent gesture, but to those who knew Hayzea, the truth was far more sinister and malicious. Her touch could kill a fae in minutes, in the most violent of ways. She was unstable, yet it was this instability that made her perfect for ruling over the Autumn Court. It was what made her such a brilliant tactician, such a vicious warrior.
Hayzea chuckled, remembering the blood splattering on her dress. She was lucky to have had enough time to change. Her eyes almost glowed orange with her sinister intent, as she began rubbing circles into the palms of her hands, her wings erratically flapping, as she began to float up. It was just so good, the feeling of the wet blood striking her flesh. The screams for mercy and agony, that they hadn't meant to steal from her. That they hadn't meant to be rebellious. They were liars, and she despises liars.
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Lonan the Summer-King
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: Lonan is King of the House of Summer of Tir la Morr and, even compared to other fae, is known for his somewhat outlandish attitude and personality. He is the embodiment of all that is the summer fae: mischievous, virile and hotheaded; Yet also good-hearted, loved and courageous. As with many other fae, his real name is kept a close secret with Lonan being merely a public moniker.
Lonan's natural form is that of a man-sized fae with fair features and pointed ears but he can also change his shape into that of a winged fae only a few inches tall, an antlered stag or a brown bear. In addition he has the natural fae ability to 'glamour', or change the superficial elements of his appearance in order to appear to be someone else. Unlike shape-shifting, the ability to glamour is only a surface illusion.
On top of this Lonan is renowned as a warrior of the fae and his skills with the bow are legendary, though he is also capable with the sword, the spear and the summer school of magic.
Lonan is also infamous as a hot-headed womaniser. He has no political wife or great love and often claims that his heart is too big to be captured by one woman alone. The Summer House is a place of near constant merrymaking, dancing, music and noble fae. As a result Lonan is said to have over 100 children by near that number of women, though he holds no paternal instinct except slight amusement at the matter and regards any offspring no more than the rest of his people.
Registered: Jan 23, 2018 18:37:20 GMT -8
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Post by Lonan the Summer-King on Jan 29, 2018 0:44:09 GMT -8
"Just a little fun, Lord," explained Lonan, gathering himself after his display and then proceeding to take any seat that was offered or to stand in his designated place if not. First he would listen to Hayzea, but paid little mind to what she said other than feeling somewhat apologetic for those who were supposedly under her 'care'. Those unseelie fae were a strange lot; often so morbid or outright cruel! The Summer-King enjoyed his tricks but they were rarely pulled from a place of true malice and even those that were a little mean rarely resulted in permanent injury or death.
When it came his turn, he would proceed before the throne and bow again. "My cou- sorry, House, is quite well. In this past year I have put much effort into expanding its military power and seeking to protect our borders from its neighbours. Similarly great focus has been placed on the economy of the Summer-lands, where incentives have been put in place to reel in some of our 'wilder' seelie and instead have them join a productive workforce. Meanwhile, I have been sending fae to scout the lands beyond Tir la Morr in an attempt to find a suitable future partner for trade or other such relations... And lastly I have been making great efforts to re-organize the lords and ladies of my house to better align with your orders."
It might make sense to them that Summer was doing rather well. Lonan may have surrendered to the Tyrant, but it was he who was King of the Summer-lands before that and he who continued to hold the love of his people... Just as he had done since he himself was crowned King of the Seelie, so long ago. There was no period of acclimation to a sudden new ruler and those of his lands that had not been broken away to join the new house of 'Spring' found many things stayed exactly the same. The loss of warriors in the war had been a burden, but fae were nothing if not fickle and seelie wounds tended to heal in quicker time than humans.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 11:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2018 10:05:32 GMT -8
Isolde waited patiently for her turn to arrive, speaking as soon as it did. "The fae of the Winter House have accepted me as their Queen without conflict. We have been focusing our efforts in tearing down the crags Ithilmir erected with little progress, but they will be brought down in time."
Former Queen Ithilmir, Isolde's sister, had so ferociously detested the human world that she created the towers of ice that stood between the cave of Winter's Grasp and the deepest mountains within the Winter House's territory, where her castle sat. Though it did not discourage the bravest warriors and travelers into her lands, it did wear them down enough for the madness of the mountain to defeat them. The Tyrant did not like this, and thus, it had to be destroyed. Such a thing was no easy task: Ithilmir's power was so great even the giants had trouble cracking through the icy bluffs.
It was a shame. The Crags were an incredible sight to behold from the castle when the fog decided to clear. It was the last bit of her sister she had left, a remnant that was none too small. Etching away at it felt wrong.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Jan 30, 2018 13:12:29 GMT -8
Isolde waited patiently for her turn to arrive, speaking as soon as it did. "The fae of the Winter House have accepted me as their Queen without conflict. We have been focusing our efforts in tearing down the crags Ithilmir erected with little progress, but they will be brought down in time." Former Queen Ithilmir, Isolde's sister, had so ferociously detested the human world that she created the towers of ice that stood between the cave of Winter's Grasp and the deepest mountains within the Winter House's territory, where her castle sat. Though it did not discourage the bravest warriors and travelers into her lands, it did wear them down enough for the madness of the mountain to defeat them. The Tyrant did not like this, and thus, it had to be destroyed. Such a thing was no easy task: Ithilmir's power was so great even the giants had trouble cracking through the icy bluffs. It was a shame. The Crags were an incredible sight to behold from the castle when the fog decided to clear. It was the last bit of her sister she had left, a remnant that was none too small. Etching away at it felt wrong. Hayzea's expression grows thoughtful. Once Isolde is done, she opens her mouth. "It seems like a waste of resource to destroy these Crags.. Why not repurpose them to serve our lord better?" She asks. "Also, while I am unfamiliar with Ithilmir's magic, nothing has ever been immune to my touch, @isolde . If you seek them destroyed, I can easily aid you." She says calmly, likely shocking that the insane queen was being rational.
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The Tyrant in Gold
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Standing at a towering eight feet in height, The Tyrant is never seen outside of his golden armor. The suit itself is a serviceable set of plate with only a few ornamental frills. His helmet has been shaped to resemble a crown, a few extra spikes on the shoulders and gauntlets.
Of course, most who view The Tyrant do not even remember his armor. The only thing visible of the creature within in are the eyes. The Tyrant's eyes are two glowing embers that seem to seeth with power and cruelty. When one is arrested by those eyes they know they are but a commodity to be used or discarded based on value.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:03:42 GMT -8
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Post by The Tyrant in Gold on Jan 30, 2018 17:13:44 GMT -8
"They are being destroyed because I will it."
The voice of The Tyrant in Gold cleaves through Hayzea's chatter like a sword through flesh. He did not particularly care that the Autumn Queen had spoken out of turn, to expect Fae to honor all but the most basic speaking order was pointless. However, her questioning of a fellow ruler in regards to his will was not to be tolerated. Now those burning embers turn upon Hayzea displeasure creeping into his voice.
"Isolde will tear down the crags on her own. Do not interfere in this Hayzea or you will draw my ire."
The destruction of the crags would help cement the idea that the Winter court was now part of a larger kingdom. It also served as a lesson for Isolde, having the new Winter Queen destroy what was left of her sister's legacy was a potent reminder of The Tyrant's power and Isolde's subservience. It may brew animosity within Isolde as well but that was fine, he desired obedience and fear and the latter could not exist without hate.
Still, he was not overly worried about Hayzea disobeying him on this, the Autumn Queen was loyal. However, she was also unstable. He was well aware of the tactics she'd used to quell rebellion in her court. They were not dissimilar to his own methods but she lacked his cold calculating malice. If she became more erratic she may prove to be a problem, unpredictability was good but if it slipped into insanity then it could no longer be controlled. The Tyrant had no use for something he could not control.
Lonan's report was the most detailed but that was not a surprise. The Sidhe had been ruling his court for eons prior to The Tyrant's conquest. The king's movements were in line with The Tyrant's own designs but he was no fool. The Tyrant could see how the same actions Lonan was taking in his name could help the summer king in eventual rebellion. Of his underlings, Lonan posed the most potential trouble but the Summer King's experience also made him an invaluable asset.
"I am pleased with your progress."
The Tyrant's burning embers once again take them all in. They likely knew as well as he that their reports were largely superfluous. If they did not already know of the spies The Tyrant had within their houses then they likely had suspicions. But the gain of information was rarely the reason a king called his Dukes and Duchesses to court. Part of it was to remind them of their place, to make sure they never forgot they were at his beck and call. But the real reason was to hand out new directives. But they would get to that. Now his glowing eyes fix on Vanhin.
"Vanhin of Firefly Forest, six months ago I gave you an ultimatum. Today I will hear your answer, service or the sword?"
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Vanhin
New
Roleplay posts: 8
Physical Description: Standing at only four feet tall, Vanhin’s appearance is nearly the opposite of imposing. His hair and beard is a pure snow white, both being rather unstyled and wild looking. His face is crinkled with smile lines and his eyes almost always have a certain twinkle to them. His skin is tough and leathery, possessing a color that suggests he has spent much time in the sun.
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Clothes and Equipment: Vanhin can usually be found in a rather plain woolen jacket that’s some variety of brown overtop baggy pants and a shirt of deep green. Around his waist is a leather belt secured with a silver buckle, perhaps the only valuable material on his entire outfit. On his head is a straw hat with an exceptionally brilliant red feather sticking out of it. His leather boots look quite worn but still in good condition. Other than his clothing, Vanhin only carries around a dark green bag, which possesses a variety of ever-changing objects in it, the one constant being his wooden flute.
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Registered: Jan 23, 2018 17:07:12 GMT -8
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Post by Vanhin on Jan 30, 2018 18:31:03 GMT -8
Vanhin smiled as the Tyrant directed his question towards him, perhaps it amused the old Fae in some way.
“Although I certainly spend far too much time in my pool, I dare say I am no fool. There is only one option in this scenario for me to take, I shall serve you until I ache!”
Pausing for a moment, Vanhin clasped his hands together in front of him, offering a bow once more, perhaps to emphasize his statement. Holding the bow for a moment, Vanhin unbends his back and speaks once more.
“Rest assured my Lord, the seals inscribed will hold back the hoard. Day or night, I will restrain them with all my might.”
For a moment there was something other than delight in the Fae’s eyes as he spoke, but it only lasted for a moment. He was back to his old joyful self, eyes gleaming mischievously.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Jan 30, 2018 19:19:23 GMT -8
Hayzea bit her tongue from replying sarcastically to the Tyrant. Doing so would not end well.. She was cruel and unpredictable, vicious and heartless, but Hayzea was not stupid. Hayzea refused to bow her head in submission, instead she rolled her eyes at his threat. While she was keenly aware it was not idle, it was better if he thought of her as childish and insane. Fear may have been his forte, but the mind was her own. She would be damned if she let him beat her at her own game. She shifted her body language to reflect just enough respect and subservience to the Tyrant.
She did not become the Queen of Autumn simply because she could destroy anything with a mere stroke. She did not become the Spirit of Decay due to sheer intellect. She was sly and devious, and almost none knew of her true intentions, something even which Hayzea was sometimes unsure of.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 11:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2018 11:53:39 GMT -8
Isolde watched silently, keeping her opinions to herself. She very much doubted Hayzea's ability to take down the crags all at once, they were so expansive. So much of Ithilmir's power went into creating them, Isolde was sure that it was the reason her defeat came as easily as it did: she didn't have anything left by the time the Tyrant came along.
Some enjoyment was had at Hayzea's scolding. After all, both fae never had any love for one another. One court was created to weaken the other, though Isolde was trying to make a point by covering the rumbling pines with snow every so often, so close to Hayzea's Court. Winter was still strong.
Then there was Summer, who seemed to be doing well. Isolde wasn't going to let that bother her. In time, her Court would grow, too.
She gazed at Vanhin as he spoke, listening to him carefully. Fae loved to hide messages in their words. Viewing the glee in his face, Isolde attempted to find anything hidden within his.
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The Tyrant in Gold
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Standing at a towering eight feet in height, The Tyrant is never seen outside of his golden armor. The suit itself is a serviceable set of plate with only a few ornamental frills. His helmet has been shaped to resemble a crown, a few extra spikes on the shoulders and gauntlets.
Of course, most who view The Tyrant do not even remember his armor. The only thing visible of the creature within in are the eyes. The Tyrant's eyes are two glowing embers that seem to seeth with power and cruelty. When one is arrested by those eyes they know they are but a commodity to be used or discarded based on value.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:03:42 GMT -8
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Post by The Tyrant in Gold on Feb 1, 2018 13:02:07 GMT -8
"Then you are so sworn."
The Tyrant's voice booms out oddly, it seems to sound three times and in three different tones as though he spoke with three different voices. One was pure and clear like the ringing of a crystal bell on a cold Winter's day. One was low, deep and rumbling filled with a primal power that spoke of wild things in deep summer woods. The final voice that in those ringing words is as quiet as a whisper yet it can be heard as distinctly as the others. It speaks of dark and sinister things of ancient secrets and promises of power in exchange for obedience.
Those gathered would be familiar with this odd phenomenon and those who treated with him often in the past, such as Hayzea would know his normal voice contained these three tones. However, they were usually muddled together and not so distinct. It was only when he gave an official proclamation or worked his magic that they split. It was something that gave him power, anything thrice sworn had weight with among the fae and The Tyrant speaking with three voices lent that weight to what he said. Though what this meant beyond him being able to bind himself fully in a single breath was not yet known.
With Vanhin's oath given his attention once again encapsulates his three lords. It was time to get to the heart of the meeting but it appeared as though Morrigan had not yet arrived. Well, it was to her loss.
"As you know I forbade fighting amongst yourselves when I asserted my rule. While I consolidated power I did not want you to squabble. However, now that we are established it is time for my plans to continue. In one months time, the ban on inter-house warfare will be lifted."
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Feb 1, 2018 13:49:02 GMT -8
Hayzea's eyes narrowed at the proclamation, before she realized something. Her wings began to flap erratically, as she struggled to contain her energy. To one familiar with Hayzea, such as the Tyrant in Gold, they would recognize this as part of her innate magic, for chaos does not like to be restrained. To others, it came off as simple hyperactivity. Her eyes twitched, and she spoke in a low tone, unlike her bubbly voice. "So.. That means, the other courts are fair game?" She giggles, and suddenly something shifts.
Her gloves begin to deteriorate, the fabric being torn through space and time in every direction, burnt from the inside out.. No longer in existence were these gloves. Her hands were pulsing, her veins turning bright, burnt orange, much like her eyes. Hayzea floated upwards to prevent herself from destroying anything else. Nobody had ever seen Hayzea this excited, bar the Tyrant. A prickling sense of unease creeps up, Hayzea's unnatural smile and glowing veins and eyes hinting at something.. Dangerous, lurking beneath the surface.
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Lonan the Summer-King
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Physical Description: Lonan is King of the House of Summer of Tir la Morr and, even compared to other fae, is known for his somewhat outlandish attitude and personality. He is the embodiment of all that is the summer fae: mischievous, virile and hotheaded; Yet also good-hearted, loved and courageous. As with many other fae, his real name is kept a close secret with Lonan being merely a public moniker.
Lonan's natural form is that of a man-sized fae with fair features and pointed ears but he can also change his shape into that of a winged fae only a few inches tall, an antlered stag or a brown bear. In addition he has the natural fae ability to 'glamour', or change the superficial elements of his appearance in order to appear to be someone else. Unlike shape-shifting, the ability to glamour is only a surface illusion.
On top of this Lonan is renowned as a warrior of the fae and his skills with the bow are legendary, though he is also capable with the sword, the spear and the summer school of magic.
Lonan is also infamous as a hot-headed womaniser. He has no political wife or great love and often claims that his heart is too big to be captured by one woman alone. The Summer House is a place of near constant merrymaking, dancing, music and noble fae. As a result Lonan is said to have over 100 children by near that number of women, though he holds no paternal instinct except slight amusement at the matter and regards any offspring no more than the rest of his people.
Registered: Jan 23, 2018 18:37:20 GMT -8
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Post by Lonan the Summer-King on Feb 1, 2018 20:40:53 GMT -8
Lonan kept mostly quiet during the exchanges, except for little bit of innocent fidgeting with his own fingers. He found it curious that the Tyrant wanted even Vanhin to submit, for as far as Lonan could tell Vanhin was something of a recluse and never seemed to bother anybody. It didn't surprise him that he accepted though - sometimes it was just easier to go along with things to avoid trouble.
And Isolde, the Winter Queen, remained quiet and consolidated. She was a little hard to read, but he wasn't so much trying to pry apart the contents of her mind through her minuscule expressions as he was telling himself that he wouldn't mind having a go on her. Alas, it would probably be frowned upon to get involved with an unseelie woman, especially one who was in most technical senses his current greatest rival.
The Tyrant's next words did surprise him a little. Lonan had imagined that the keeping of fae houses and the creation of more was little more than an effort to control them by splitting them into weaker factions, and that any inter-house 'conflict' would be a largely secretive and underhanded endeavour. Yet now the Tyrant was going to openly allow them to attack each other? Was his entire invasion of Tir la Morr just to pave way for some sort of game he could sit and watch from his throne, or was it to consistently weaken the houses so that they would never again pose a threat?
As Hayzea did her weird thing, Lonan rolled his eyes at her and spoke to the others. "Is she trying to intimidate us or does she think she's being cool?" He asked, touching his chin lightly out of wonder.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 11:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2018 9:35:22 GMT -8
At the Tyrant's statement and Hayzea's erratic behavior, frost began to creep along the floor, slowly expanding its radius around the Winter Queen. She dug her nails into her palm, fighting to keep it from spreading further.
Though this proclamation was surprising, Isolde also had her suspicions. Why bring them together, only to have them fight? What were the Tyrant's true intentions?
In time, she would figure them out: she made it her goal to do so. More importantly, however, she had to bring this news to her court, and she would begin building her armies. Her progress on the crags could be stalled... for now, just until the Tyrant would lose patience with her. Just before then, she would attempt to keep them high, so that no army could easily traverse them.
Who knew such a thing would come to be a blessing.
She noted the ire Lonan had for the Autumn Queen already. It could have been his nature, but she did not see him laughing now.
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