... Can't think of a good enough reply. Just assume the prince didn't bother to reply.
AtomicNut
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Abusive Contractor
STATUS: Daylight Saving Times are a conspiracy to sell analgesics and coffee 5 days ago
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Daylight Saving Times are a conspiracy to sell analgesics and coffee
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1 mo ago
My milkshake brings all boys to the yard... good thing I planted mines.
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1 mo ago
...Good lord, when was the las time I updated this?
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BERSERK LIVES
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1 year later... Still in denial. Also trying to set up a discord server.
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Bio
I run on GMT+1 Schedule.
And coffee.
And coffee.
Most Recent Posts
I might need to do a quick reply, but its ok.
Sasha
Sasha seemed to recoil upon seeing the filth-ridden jacket initially, but relented. As unwholesome as Sir Cuddles hygiene was sometimes, it was better than to show embarassment to commoners. The proud Yenina stood with her arms folded, trying to gather what was a recap of the whole situation.
"First I was about to partake in pudding, then I had no serving of the commoner dish, but a whole twin sister served to me. And there was you yelling and tossing people. And that weird commoner Kato. They all wanted to prevent me from having pudding, so I decided to teach what it meant to cross House Yenina." She paused for a brief moment, bluster twisting the words in her tongue making her unable to continue.
"And then my garb was unable to cont..tain my holy power and WHERE IS THAT STUPID YURI WITH A NEW SET OF CLOTHES!" Sasha's anger turned once more volcanic, even if she was ragged out of her breath, before setting her eyes at the new presence. "You. Because I interrupted your attempt to breed with that witch, you've set up a demonic curse of pudding starvation upon me, Demondragon!" She yelled, advancing towards Nidgart. "Somehow, it's all your fault! Sir CUDDLES! CHARGE! SLAY THAT DRAGON!" She added, before squishing the poor rat-man and trying to forcefully push him towards the enemy that needed vanquishing.
Post tomorrow hopefully
The prince is kinda an obvious duck... Rhayven's been in service to the crown for 15 years, much of that time he has made his home in south haven, not noticing the prince might be the princes preference, but it also doesnt make explicit sense for Rhayven, unless the prince has made a concerted effort to disguise himself.
Yes but you can play along or be a dick about it. Like the guards.
"subtly" notice the prince.
The prince did not want to be noticed at all. Stupid sir Patronus and his mouth.
The prince did not want to be noticed at all. Stupid sir Patronus and his mouth.
Crud, I forgot to describe the council chamber. It's past midnight though, so I'll tackle that Wednesday night. In the meantime, I suggest the player characters take this opportunity to introduce themselves to one another during the pre-meeting period.
Its hilarious how they ignored the princes indication to keep silent about him.
So one more post from Atomic then you can spin us up into round 2?
The prince has no reason to address brazen ladies who plant their face in his royal personal space! -grumble-
The streets of the city were bustling as ever, come hell or high rain. It was a pitiful instinct, a misguided attempt at survival. Humans flocked to cities and tall walls made in eras whose knowledge had been struck from all of their books. Humans wanted hope, they wanted safety, and like moths to a flame, they would gather here, at Southhaven. The city would never cease to be bustling, not even when a calamity borne of the skies, an once myth made flesh, a dragon, was dangling its threats over the rest of creation.
But for what reason? A beast knew of no glory. No fortune. Had not the cravings for human flesh, or else they would have sacrificed more maidens to placate his anger. Some sort of spite? Perhaps. The mantled knight, clad in a worn coat ragged at the ends to preserve his incognito, flipped the shining coin to the bard. He had been there for a while, after paying the courier for his services upon being delivered the news. He had arrived earlier, for he had been born in the ruling family of Southaven, and knew shortcuts many people never suspected of. The heart wanted to escape his chest, and the thrumming of it hurt his eyes. He had never felt so angry before. Prim was one wild princess, but she had been her sister, and the one beloved sibling of his. Unlike Gerald, whom he usually met strong opposition, to the point that both their parents had to take measures in the situation.
No, it would not do to show an angry face. And so he decided to feel the cobblestones beneath his feet for a short while. Hear the voices of people. Commoners, nobles, merchants and bards. The people... the word in the street so to speak. Unrest was certain, according to the bard who thankfully did not notice how High-birthed the knight talking before him was.
His eyes darted to the gates, where he had spotted the insufferable poise of Sir Patronus, whose prowess with the ram had been the tales of drunk knights. A couple of people with...unique attires had been shuffled inside the castle. That was his cue. For they looked outcasts, and whom other than the desperate and the madmen would take the insane edict of his father, the King? With somber strides he closed the distance, without announcing himself. He even made sure, when they decided to look at his face, to gesture them silence about his presence, as he passed in, the ragged incognito cloak hiding his features.
He did not wanted to start with the official paraphernalia, not just yet. Two folks from Fellmore, it semeed. One whose armor was vaguely familiar, but could not recall. Plus someone which, according to rumours, fitted the description of a mage-knight. Darvus thought to himself it could have been worse, as he waited patiently for his cue to identify himself or be addressed by the Castle retainers, or his Highness.
But for what reason? A beast knew of no glory. No fortune. Had not the cravings for human flesh, or else they would have sacrificed more maidens to placate his anger. Some sort of spite? Perhaps. The mantled knight, clad in a worn coat ragged at the ends to preserve his incognito, flipped the shining coin to the bard. He had been there for a while, after paying the courier for his services upon being delivered the news. He had arrived earlier, for he had been born in the ruling family of Southaven, and knew shortcuts many people never suspected of. The heart wanted to escape his chest, and the thrumming of it hurt his eyes. He had never felt so angry before. Prim was one wild princess, but she had been her sister, and the one beloved sibling of his. Unlike Gerald, whom he usually met strong opposition, to the point that both their parents had to take measures in the situation.
No, it would not do to show an angry face. And so he decided to feel the cobblestones beneath his feet for a short while. Hear the voices of people. Commoners, nobles, merchants and bards. The people... the word in the street so to speak. Unrest was certain, according to the bard who thankfully did not notice how High-birthed the knight talking before him was.
His eyes darted to the gates, where he had spotted the insufferable poise of Sir Patronus, whose prowess with the ram had been the tales of drunk knights. A couple of people with...unique attires had been shuffled inside the castle. That was his cue. For they looked outcasts, and whom other than the desperate and the madmen would take the insane edict of his father, the King? With somber strides he closed the distance, without announcing himself. He even made sure, when they decided to look at his face, to gesture them silence about his presence, as he passed in, the ragged incognito cloak hiding his features.
He did not wanted to start with the official paraphernalia, not just yet. Two folks from Fellmore, it semeed. One whose armor was vaguely familiar, but could not recall. Plus someone which, according to rumours, fitted the description of a mage-knight. Darvus thought to himself it could have been worse, as he waited patiently for his cue to identify himself or be addressed by the Castle retainers, or his Highness.
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