Grumbling with resentment, Tarvick clambered down a rotted staircase to join the dragoness, his handheld crossbow hooked back on the loop at his hip. He was a thick, oily-skinned man with hawk-like features and yellow, jaundiced eyes. Drachia suspected, as she had many times in the past, that he would have been a much more successful adventurer if he didn't waste so much of his treasure on drink and whores.
"I see that Sebastian gave you my message then?" he asked, eyeing the dragoness disdainfully. His scowl didn't improve when she gave a nod of her horned head and stepped with cautious feet towards one of the many hallways branching off the grand hall.
"I got the message, Tarvick. And that message was that you didn't want me to know where you were going."
She could hear his heavy boots following her as she began to explore the castle. When he didn't respond she went on to say, "...and I find that disappointing considering how often you've benefited from my help. So what is different about this time, hm? Did you forget how to share? Is someone else paying you to bring them my share? Or were you simply hoping to collect everything and sell me what you know I'd want?"
No reply. She turned back to find the man with his arms crossed defiantly and a sneer on his face. In a flash of anger she lunged towards him and seized the front of his leather tunic. He was a sturdy man, equal in height to the red-scaled mage, but still she was able to hoist him rudely off his feet.
"Do not test me, Tarvick. I know more than one spell that will loosen that tongue." Her sinister growl echoed down the muffled, dusty corridors.
"Alright! Alright!" Tarvick gasped harshly, his dirt-crusted boots scuffing against the stone beneath him. "Two men found me outside Mizzy's Tavern a fortnight ago. They told me where I might find some treasure, and that me an my boys could keep it all if we brought them any books or scrolls with this sigil on it."
He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a piece of old blue silk with the symbol of the old kingdom, but it also had a ring of seven stars stitched in an arc across the top. Drachia stared at it as she lowered the idiot to his feet, struggling to remember where she had seen the halo of stars before.
"So you thought that you'd be likely to walk away with more loot if you gave your new pals what they were looking for than if you brought me along, hmm? Well, I'm here and they are not. If we find anything, you can just tell them I cursed you into giving it to me instead."
As they moved deeper into the castle, Drachia began to hear clearly the sounds of picks and hammers chiseling into the stone. "It sounds like your lads have found something after all."
They followed the trail of smoky torches until they came across Tarvick's team. They had already broken through one wall into a chamber that was littered with the remains heavy chests and racks. Whatever had been hidden here had been looted long ago, probably when the treacherous winter weather had sent ruinous earthslides to wipe out not only part of the castle, but much of the kingdom around it. But rather than looking into the faces of disappointed treasure hunters, the half-dragon saw them busily working to widen a rift in the far wall, breaking into another space behind it. Her nostrils flared slightly at the cold, musky scent of ages that came rushing out.
Grinning, with her wings lifted slightly from her back, she turned to Tarvick, and saw her excitement reflected in his human eyes. Whatever was behind that wall hadn't been touched in many long years.
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Bio
It took me 10 years to finally fill one of these out, but I finally did it. Welcome, stranger.
I'm Drache. I'm a millenial leftist living in the US deep south. I'm a queer polyamorous kinkster. You can find me at PRIDE, at Ren Fair, at the local farmer's market, and the monthly dark party. I play D&D, I play Skyrim, and I play with gags and blindfolds. I'm your elder femdom, even though my bones hurt.
During the day I'm an emergency animal medical professional with 20 years in the field. On my off time I'm a dog show enthusiast, a karaoke singer, a baker, and a volunteer wildlife rehabilitator. I'm a collector of rare houseplants, of rescued exotic birds, of books, of tattoos. I'm the most feral spouse with the most domestic skills. I'm perpetually exhausted but endlessly impulsive.
If you're looking for a partner to share in your high fantasy, in your dark themes, in your deranged kinky monsterfucking, send me a PM.
What else is there to say?
Most Recent Posts
Added some plot ideas.
The following morning Drachia let herself out of Max's estate just as the sky was growing light over the eastern forests. After reviewing the now-crumpled missive written by Sebastian, she set off over the city of Greenpool on her own two wings. The creeping debaucherers and ambitious business-men stalking the streets early, or later, wherever their perspectives lay, glanced up to see the reddish shape scything through the air.
Not only was there a great amount of freedom in flying, but it was a faster method of travel than anything else in her arsenal of resources, except for Teleportation, of course. But she couldn't 'Port to anyplace she had never been before, and such conjurations could be risky under even the best of circumstances.
So with golden membranes stretched taught and reptilian eyes scouring the nearly unbroken evergreen forests rolling below her, she tacked and bent her course towards the mountains. The snow-capped peaks were much higher than the mist-spouting calderas she was used to, and she hoped with an instinctive shudder that she did not have to endure those frosty heights at all during her trip.
As the hours swept by with the consistent whooshing of wind in her ear-frills, she began to see signs that she was getting close. From her dragons' eye view she sailed effortlessly over the tumbledown ruins of a farmhouse here, a cluster of homes from a tiny hamlet there all overgrown and drifted over by mossy earth, the shattered bottom half of a watch-tower on the jutting precipice of a cliff. The mountainsides rose up to meet her and as she sailed over a bare-rocked rise, she spotted her destination on the other side.
The gray-granite castle was difficult to distinguish from the surrounding crags, but even at a distance Drachia's vision was supreme. As she swooped closer and made a wide circle around the ruins, she could see where the avalanches of lifetimes ago had washed not only the winding road that had lead to the castle's main gate but also most of the west wing and part of even the inner keep. The walls and battlements that remained were largely crusted with moss and ivy with only dark slots where the windows had once likely contained the beautiful stained glass humans were so fond of.
Banking around, she spotted a cluster of seven horses milling about, eating the winter rye grass sprouting through the flagstone of the castle's inner bailey.
"Axun-ra!" the magus hissed her triumph in draconic. Tucking her wings, she twisted into a dive and dropped lightly through a gaping hole in the roof of the castle's main hall, snapping her wings open to land with a soft thud on the mouldering remains of a blue carpet.
Her snouted face twisted back and forth to take in her surroundings, but before she could step out of the shaft of sunlight she heard the tell-tale click-Thump! of a crossbow being fired. She threw up a clawed hand and dodged to the side, trailing a crackling arc of fire after her palm. The incoming bolt deflected to the side a mere inch from striking her scales, and thudded into the decaying mortar of one wall with a quiet hum.
Loudly, both out of surprise and to prevent another shot being fired she called into the dusty shadows of the ancient castle, "Tarvick, is that any way to treat your friends?"
She couldn't help but smirk when the nasally voice of her hook-nosed competitor came wheedling from a balcony above.
"Gods-damned dragon bitch, how do you get here so fast?"
Not only was there a great amount of freedom in flying, but it was a faster method of travel than anything else in her arsenal of resources, except for Teleportation, of course. But she couldn't 'Port to anyplace she had never been before, and such conjurations could be risky under even the best of circumstances.
So with golden membranes stretched taught and reptilian eyes scouring the nearly unbroken evergreen forests rolling below her, she tacked and bent her course towards the mountains. The snow-capped peaks were much higher than the mist-spouting calderas she was used to, and she hoped with an instinctive shudder that she did not have to endure those frosty heights at all during her trip.
As the hours swept by with the consistent whooshing of wind in her ear-frills, she began to see signs that she was getting close. From her dragons' eye view she sailed effortlessly over the tumbledown ruins of a farmhouse here, a cluster of homes from a tiny hamlet there all overgrown and drifted over by mossy earth, the shattered bottom half of a watch-tower on the jutting precipice of a cliff. The mountainsides rose up to meet her and as she sailed over a bare-rocked rise, she spotted her destination on the other side.
The gray-granite castle was difficult to distinguish from the surrounding crags, but even at a distance Drachia's vision was supreme. As she swooped closer and made a wide circle around the ruins, she could see where the avalanches of lifetimes ago had washed not only the winding road that had lead to the castle's main gate but also most of the west wing and part of even the inner keep. The walls and battlements that remained were largely crusted with moss and ivy with only dark slots where the windows had once likely contained the beautiful stained glass humans were so fond of.
Banking around, she spotted a cluster of seven horses milling about, eating the winter rye grass sprouting through the flagstone of the castle's inner bailey.
"Axun-ra!" the magus hissed her triumph in draconic. Tucking her wings, she twisted into a dive and dropped lightly through a gaping hole in the roof of the castle's main hall, snapping her wings open to land with a soft thud on the mouldering remains of a blue carpet.
Her snouted face twisted back and forth to take in her surroundings, but before she could step out of the shaft of sunlight she heard the tell-tale click-Thump! of a crossbow being fired. She threw up a clawed hand and dodged to the side, trailing a crackling arc of fire after her palm. The incoming bolt deflected to the side a mere inch from striking her scales, and thudded into the decaying mortar of one wall with a quiet hum.
Loudly, both out of surprise and to prevent another shot being fired she called into the dusty shadows of the ancient castle, "Tarvick, is that any way to treat your friends?"
She couldn't help but smirk when the nasally voice of her hook-nosed competitor came wheedling from a balcony above.
"Gods-damned dragon bitch, how do you get here so fast?"
Greenpool was the closest major port to the isles, so it was there that Drachia went, expending quite a bit of energy to telaport herself across the ocean. The trip left her more exhausted than she had hoped, and she resigned herself to having to spend the rest of the night in the city before striking out to follow Tarvick's trail.
She pulled her hood over her horned head as she prowled down the street. It couldn't hide her face from everyone, but Greenpool wasn't Nautilus and Drachia had no intention of dealing with riff-raff who were offended by red scales and ear-frills.
Just as she was thinking that a meal would be nice and her eyes flitted up and down the street at the menagerie of creaking, poorly-spelled shop signs, a tall figure in a gray robe fell in step beside her.
"So lovely to see you back in Greenpool, my Lady," came a low voice that Drachia recognized right away. "I had just about given up hope that I would ever see you again. You are the sun, and my heart is turned to ice in the shadow of your refusal. Have you come to bring light back into my life?"
She chuckled and turned to look up at the man without breaking her stride. "How dreadful for you, Maximus. Perhaps you should go back to Rhemes. If it's the sun you're pining for I'm sure the desert would do you some good. I don't have time to dally."
The man sighed dramatically. "You wound me. It's as though you haven't gotten any of my letters."
"I did," she retorted with a swish of her tail under the back of her cloak. "All one-hundred and twenty three since the last I saw you. But I am not interested in being your paramour, Maximus..."
She was cut off sharply when he reached for her wrist and pulled her up short, moving in front of her with her wingbones backed up against the stone building behind her.
"You can't deny that we've had good times, Drachia," the affectionate lilt in his voice had vanished and was replaced with something more insistent and desperate. The magus narrowed her eyes and glared up into his.
"I never denied it," she spat back. "But I wont be another pretty flower on your arm at the next royal gala. I have better things to do, Maximus. And you should know better if you think that looming over a half-dragon is going to do anything more than make her angry."
Her face inched closer to him and she stepped forward, forcing him to edge back a step. With a twist of her arm she broke her wrist free of his grip and reversed the hold so that his forearm was bared to her sight, the billowy sleeve of his robe falling back to reveal his chocolaty skin. Skin that was thickly etched with intricate runes. Her cat-like pupils widened and their little lover's quarrel was forgotten in an instant.
"Oh Max! What are these? You're not still dabbling in rune magic are you? You're going to get yourself killed, or worse." Her voice became an urgent hiss. "Is this why you keep begging me to recommend you to the Mage College?"
The dark-skinned man grew shifty eyed and snatched his arm back, folding his hands back into his sleeves. "It's easy for you to be so righteous, dragon. Not all of us were born with magic in our blood."
She shook her head slowly, knowing that nothing she said was going to turn him from the path he was on. They stood in the shadows, glaring at each other to the uncomfortable silence of their differences until Max lifted his hand and stroked his fingers along the outer phalanges of one of her wings. "Stay with me tonight? At least so you don't have to rent a room and eat week-old gristle instead of fresh meat and good wine."
Drachia turned to look north, her eyes following the road out of the city and towards the distant mountains. "I have to leave early. I'm following someone up to the Malcrists."
"Then you should get some rest."
"With you? Somehow I don't think I'll be getting much sleep."
He grinned, and so did she.
She pulled her hood over her horned head as she prowled down the street. It couldn't hide her face from everyone, but Greenpool wasn't Nautilus and Drachia had no intention of dealing with riff-raff who were offended by red scales and ear-frills.
Just as she was thinking that a meal would be nice and her eyes flitted up and down the street at the menagerie of creaking, poorly-spelled shop signs, a tall figure in a gray robe fell in step beside her.
"So lovely to see you back in Greenpool, my Lady," came a low voice that Drachia recognized right away. "I had just about given up hope that I would ever see you again. You are the sun, and my heart is turned to ice in the shadow of your refusal. Have you come to bring light back into my life?"
She chuckled and turned to look up at the man without breaking her stride. "How dreadful for you, Maximus. Perhaps you should go back to Rhemes. If it's the sun you're pining for I'm sure the desert would do you some good. I don't have time to dally."
The man sighed dramatically. "You wound me. It's as though you haven't gotten any of my letters."
"I did," she retorted with a swish of her tail under the back of her cloak. "All one-hundred and twenty three since the last I saw you. But I am not interested in being your paramour, Maximus..."
She was cut off sharply when he reached for her wrist and pulled her up short, moving in front of her with her wingbones backed up against the stone building behind her.
"You can't deny that we've had good times, Drachia," the affectionate lilt in his voice had vanished and was replaced with something more insistent and desperate. The magus narrowed her eyes and glared up into his.
"I never denied it," she spat back. "But I wont be another pretty flower on your arm at the next royal gala. I have better things to do, Maximus. And you should know better if you think that looming over a half-dragon is going to do anything more than make her angry."
Her face inched closer to him and she stepped forward, forcing him to edge back a step. With a twist of her arm she broke her wrist free of his grip and reversed the hold so that his forearm was bared to her sight, the billowy sleeve of his robe falling back to reveal his chocolaty skin. Skin that was thickly etched with intricate runes. Her cat-like pupils widened and their little lover's quarrel was forgotten in an instant.
"Oh Max! What are these? You're not still dabbling in rune magic are you? You're going to get yourself killed, or worse." Her voice became an urgent hiss. "Is this why you keep begging me to recommend you to the Mage College?"
The dark-skinned man grew shifty eyed and snatched his arm back, folding his hands back into his sleeves. "It's easy for you to be so righteous, dragon. Not all of us were born with magic in our blood."
She shook her head slowly, knowing that nothing she said was going to turn him from the path he was on. They stood in the shadows, glaring at each other to the uncomfortable silence of their differences until Max lifted his hand and stroked his fingers along the outer phalanges of one of her wings. "Stay with me tonight? At least so you don't have to rent a room and eat week-old gristle instead of fresh meat and good wine."
Drachia turned to look north, her eyes following the road out of the city and towards the distant mountains. "I have to leave early. I'm following someone up to the Malcrists."
"Then you should get some rest."
"With you? Somehow I don't think I'll be getting much sleep."
He grinned, and so did she.
The Port City of Nautilus glittered like a jewel under the kaleidoscope of colours in the sky over the setting sun. Even far after the blazing bronze disc slid under the waves and the stars began to peek through the veils of purple, navy, and eventual black, the streets and thoroughfares remained lit with wide, shallow braziers and oil lanterns.
Seated on the largest of the Smokerim Isles and by virtue of being the largest city, Nautilus was the capitol of the island nation. Only a three day journey by ship to the mainland in the north, Nautilus was a melting pot of humanity and a popular destination for those of Hembath or Duruhl who wanted to enjoy their vices away from the disapproving eyes of their own governments. Bordellos full of exotic women and markets full of forbidden wares were displayed openly along the winding, cobbled streets. In some ways, the lax attitude towards controversial subjects like whore-houses, slavery, and intoxicating substances made the city dangerous. But in other ways there was a more equal opportunity out there for the cast-offs and misfits from other parts of the realms. And Nautilus was farm from lawless. Nestled on a high cliff in the middle of the city was the Jade Palace, home and seat of the Crown.
The young Prince and his Imperial Advisor ensured the protection of the small nation with the might of the Jade Armada, so named because of the greenish patina the ships took on once their copper-armoured hulls had spent a few years at sea. The Armada was generally touted as the fiercest naval force to be found.
Like all of the cities on the isles, Nautilus sloped upwards from the harbour through the thick jungle towards the steep sides of the volcano at the island's center. Most of the isles were volcanic, though there had been no significant eruptions for centuries. Even so, an instinctive love of the heat and underground magma was Drachia's inspiration for setting up shop here. The local societal climate worked in her favour, and she was away from the prying eyes of the full-blooded dragons who plotted and schemed over the centuries in the northern territories.
But in spite of her carefully-plotted existence in Nautilus, at the moment the red-scaled half-dragon was in a towering rage. Having been fearfully interrupted by her human servant Rhoderick to inform her that she had company, she had then received some news that had irritated her very badly.
In one of the large sitting rooms of the obsidian and red marble villa, she paced back and forth in front of the massive hearthfire, her amber eyes blazing fiercely, her clawed, talon-like feet clicking harshly against the floor with every step. No matter the warm summer winds bringing the scent of lurid tropical flowers in through the gauzy drapes across the arching windows, that bonfire was never dim when the Mistress was home.
Tail lashing, she rounded on the half-elf in grimy clothing, brandishing the parchment missive she had clenched in her fist. Her voice carried with it both a grumble and a hiss. "I thought I paid you better than this, Brent! Do you mean to tell me that Tarvick's little crew of half-wits found out about the location of one of the Forgotten Tomes and you waited three days to deliver the message?!"
The slender, boyish Brent gasped at the sheer ferocity in her visage, shrinking back against the door-frame in an attempt to escape the heat. He imagined himself being burned to death by her fire, or shredded by her claws, and only managed to stop himself from turning tail and fleeing because he suddenly forgot how to use his legs.
"N-...no, Miss Drachia! I came soon as I got the note. Tarvick bribed the Harbourmaster not to say nothin' until a whole day had passed, then it took Sebastian another day to find out where they was goin' after they landed in Greenpool. They found an old castle buried up in the Malcrist Mountains near them elflands. Covered by avalanches for a hunnert' years, he said. And they bringed back a banner with a sigil on it like the one I drew there."
He pointed shakily to the charcoal scrawling on the back of the parchment, and Drachia looked away from the trembling lad to examine it, smoothing it with her clawed fingers on a nearby table.
"...I see," she hissed, calmer now while she considered the meaning of all this, mentally cursing her bad luck. "This is the sigil of the old kingdom. They ruled in that area for hundreds of years. The tome must be there somewhere, curse it. And I'm three days behind Tarvick and his jewel-sniffing imbeciles."
Her ire was so much that when she snorted in disgust, a ribbon of dark smoke billowed from her thin nostrils. Turning, she glared into the fire, wondering what Tarvick could have found that made him so wary of her presence at the dig site. He had only a passing appreciation for what old spellbooks and mouldering yellow tomes could be worth, preferring tangible goods like gold and jewels. He never liked her competition, but he had also never gone to any great lengths to avoid her either. While she pondered, her tail undulated back and forth and the great ribbed wings at her back flexed.
Finally, she turned to find Brent still hovering by the door. Rhoderick was wise enough to have vanished out of sight, but she trusted that he was within earshot. He was a good servant and over the years had learned to anticipate her moods, the good and the dreadful.
"Brent, you did well, all things considered, but tell Sebastian that I want to see him as soon as I return." She wasn't cruel enough to punish her messenger...most of the time She reached into a black leather pouch attached to the belt around her shapely hips and tossed a trio of gold coins to him. It was triple what she normally paid him, and perhaps it was the shock that caused him to let the question tumble out of his mouth.
"Return, Miss?" His green eyes followed the dragoness as she prowled around, lifting a thick traveling cloak from a rack and twirling it back over her shoulders and wings. "You can't be thinking of leaving the island now, no ship can leave the harbour after nightfall."
Rhoderick appeared silently out of the gloomy hallways leading into the rest of the manor and handed his Mistress a sturdy pack. The handsome, if quiet, man gave Brent and almost pitying look. Within a few moments, Drachia looked ready to depart. No blade hung from her waist, though she didn't generally need one, did she. Her lips twisted with amusement, peeling back into a sinister grin that revealed a multitude of sharp fangs and incisors.
"My dear..." she almost purred as she stepped backwards into the towering flames, until her figure was completely obscured by the flickering blaze. Except for her eyes. "...who said anything about taking a ship?"
And with a crackling roar and a shower of sparks tumbling out onto the wide stone hearth, she was gone.
Seated on the largest of the Smokerim Isles and by virtue of being the largest city, Nautilus was the capitol of the island nation. Only a three day journey by ship to the mainland in the north, Nautilus was a melting pot of humanity and a popular destination for those of Hembath or Duruhl who wanted to enjoy their vices away from the disapproving eyes of their own governments. Bordellos full of exotic women and markets full of forbidden wares were displayed openly along the winding, cobbled streets. In some ways, the lax attitude towards controversial subjects like whore-houses, slavery, and intoxicating substances made the city dangerous. But in other ways there was a more equal opportunity out there for the cast-offs and misfits from other parts of the realms. And Nautilus was farm from lawless. Nestled on a high cliff in the middle of the city was the Jade Palace, home and seat of the Crown.
The young Prince and his Imperial Advisor ensured the protection of the small nation with the might of the Jade Armada, so named because of the greenish patina the ships took on once their copper-armoured hulls had spent a few years at sea. The Armada was generally touted as the fiercest naval force to be found.
Like all of the cities on the isles, Nautilus sloped upwards from the harbour through the thick jungle towards the steep sides of the volcano at the island's center. Most of the isles were volcanic, though there had been no significant eruptions for centuries. Even so, an instinctive love of the heat and underground magma was Drachia's inspiration for setting up shop here. The local societal climate worked in her favour, and she was away from the prying eyes of the full-blooded dragons who plotted and schemed over the centuries in the northern territories.
But in spite of her carefully-plotted existence in Nautilus, at the moment the red-scaled half-dragon was in a towering rage. Having been fearfully interrupted by her human servant Rhoderick to inform her that she had company, she had then received some news that had irritated her very badly.
In one of the large sitting rooms of the obsidian and red marble villa, she paced back and forth in front of the massive hearthfire, her amber eyes blazing fiercely, her clawed, talon-like feet clicking harshly against the floor with every step. No matter the warm summer winds bringing the scent of lurid tropical flowers in through the gauzy drapes across the arching windows, that bonfire was never dim when the Mistress was home.
Tail lashing, she rounded on the half-elf in grimy clothing, brandishing the parchment missive she had clenched in her fist. Her voice carried with it both a grumble and a hiss. "I thought I paid you better than this, Brent! Do you mean to tell me that Tarvick's little crew of half-wits found out about the location of one of the Forgotten Tomes and you waited three days to deliver the message?!"
The slender, boyish Brent gasped at the sheer ferocity in her visage, shrinking back against the door-frame in an attempt to escape the heat. He imagined himself being burned to death by her fire, or shredded by her claws, and only managed to stop himself from turning tail and fleeing because he suddenly forgot how to use his legs.
"N-...no, Miss Drachia! I came soon as I got the note. Tarvick bribed the Harbourmaster not to say nothin' until a whole day had passed, then it took Sebastian another day to find out where they was goin' after they landed in Greenpool. They found an old castle buried up in the Malcrist Mountains near them elflands. Covered by avalanches for a hunnert' years, he said. And they bringed back a banner with a sigil on it like the one I drew there."
He pointed shakily to the charcoal scrawling on the back of the parchment, and Drachia looked away from the trembling lad to examine it, smoothing it with her clawed fingers on a nearby table.
"...I see," she hissed, calmer now while she considered the meaning of all this, mentally cursing her bad luck. "This is the sigil of the old kingdom. They ruled in that area for hundreds of years. The tome must be there somewhere, curse it. And I'm three days behind Tarvick and his jewel-sniffing imbeciles."
Her ire was so much that when she snorted in disgust, a ribbon of dark smoke billowed from her thin nostrils. Turning, she glared into the fire, wondering what Tarvick could have found that made him so wary of her presence at the dig site. He had only a passing appreciation for what old spellbooks and mouldering yellow tomes could be worth, preferring tangible goods like gold and jewels. He never liked her competition, but he had also never gone to any great lengths to avoid her either. While she pondered, her tail undulated back and forth and the great ribbed wings at her back flexed.
Finally, she turned to find Brent still hovering by the door. Rhoderick was wise enough to have vanished out of sight, but she trusted that he was within earshot. He was a good servant and over the years had learned to anticipate her moods, the good and the dreadful.
"Brent, you did well, all things considered, but tell Sebastian that I want to see him as soon as I return." She wasn't cruel enough to punish her messenger...most of the time She reached into a black leather pouch attached to the belt around her shapely hips and tossed a trio of gold coins to him. It was triple what she normally paid him, and perhaps it was the shock that caused him to let the question tumble out of his mouth.
"Return, Miss?" His green eyes followed the dragoness as she prowled around, lifting a thick traveling cloak from a rack and twirling it back over her shoulders and wings. "You can't be thinking of leaving the island now, no ship can leave the harbour after nightfall."
Rhoderick appeared silently out of the gloomy hallways leading into the rest of the manor and handed his Mistress a sturdy pack. The handsome, if quiet, man gave Brent and almost pitying look. Within a few moments, Drachia looked ready to depart. No blade hung from her waist, though she didn't generally need one, did she. Her lips twisted with amusement, peeling back into a sinister grin that revealed a multitude of sharp fangs and incisors.
"My dear..." she almost purred as she stepped backwards into the towering flames, until her figure was completely obscured by the flickering blaze. Except for her eyes. "...who said anything about taking a ship?"
And with a crackling roar and a shower of sparks tumbling out onto the wide stone hearth, she was gone.
Name: Drachiathoryx aka. Drachia S'garsiath
Race: Half-dragon (red)
Class: Magus
The Femme Fatale!
Orphaned at a young age, Drachia is cunning and ambitious with a thirst to increase her magical skill and her social standing amid the secretive society of dragonkin. Somewhat renowned for her assistance in combat, her fame has earned her contacts and favours with the human culture that surrounds her, sometimes with less than savoury characters. Using these, she travels far and wide to collect magical artifacts for study and trade. She has many acquaintances but few true friends, preferring relationships with power-play. She is impulsive, stubborn, and frequently short-tempered and holds absolutely no loyalty to king or country.
Race: Half-dragon (red)
Class: Magus
The Femme Fatale!
Orphaned at a young age, Drachia is cunning and ambitious with a thirst to increase her magical skill and her social standing amid the secretive society of dragonkin. Somewhat renowned for her assistance in combat, her fame has earned her contacts and favours with the human culture that surrounds her, sometimes with less than savoury characters. Using these, she travels far and wide to collect magical artifacts for study and trade. She has many acquaintances but few true friends, preferring relationships with power-play. She is impulsive, stubborn, and frequently short-tempered and holds absolutely no loyalty to king or country.
Bump because I'm back!
I'll pass. Thanks anyways! :D
Satus: OPEN
High-casual to advanced level. To me this means anywhere from 5-15 paragraphs per post. I've been RPing for 20 years now and I appreciate longer, descriptive posts and world-building. If you're on the lower end of the post length spectrum don't be dismayed, I am perfectly capable of matching post length.
Third person, past tense only.
Grammar/spelling errors aren't the end of the world. Goodness knows spellcheck sometimes makes things worse rather than better.
PMs preferred. I don't post in public. Will consider other platforms such as email or Google Docs.
18+ only.
Extremely queer friendly.
I work in the medical field. I work Tues-Friday 7a-7p CST and I'm often on call overnight and on weekends. I can usually do a post every few days but it's not uncommon for me to go a week or two without being able to reply. If you absolutely NEED a post every day then I'm not the partner for you.
Mature themes! Come to me with your weird desires, kinks and fantasy scenarios. I won't judge. The worst thing I can do is say no. I'm not a huge fan of excessive gore and body horror for its own sake but things like intense fight scenes and gratuitous smut and such are great.
Romance. Definitely hoping for a romantic connection. Cishet is fine, but I'm especially fond of non-cishet pairings/triads/etc. Polyamoury is a fave. Definitely open to exploring a wide variety of romantic tropes.
Ghosting: I don't mind if you have to ghost. This is your warning that if I don't hear from you in two weeks from your last communication with me I will just assume you've ghosted. No hard feelings. You don't need to explain why you don't want to play anymore, but if it's because of something I did I would appreciate you taking the time to tell me so that I can improve for the future. If you have ghosted me in the past I will still probably want to start up again or start something new. I don't hold grudges.
* I don't like fading to black.
* No minors in sexual situations.
* Shapeshifters who are really unrestricted in what they can change into.
* I generally don't like High School or slice-of-life Modern AUs
* No "anime" RPs, especially mecha/robots because I suck at them. I haven't seen much anime in my life.
* If you want to do character sheets you'll have to mention it because I don't normally think about them.
* I try not to use real people face-claims but it's not a huge deal.
* I don't mind if you like to make your posts fancy with coloured text and pics and music and videos and stuff and I will enjoy it if you do, but I'm old and won't remember to do that stuff in my posts so if that will make you feel unappreciated then I might not be the partner for you.
If you want writing samples, just ask! I have tons. I will expect one from you.
If you're looking for queers, kink, and monsterotica you're in the right place!
Thanks for stopping by my thread! Please PM with any questions.
Beware! Mature Content below!
Beware! Mature Content below!
Preferences
High-casual to advanced level. To me this means anywhere from 5-15 paragraphs per post. I've been RPing for 20 years now and I appreciate longer, descriptive posts and world-building. If you're on the lower end of the post length spectrum don't be dismayed, I am perfectly capable of matching post length.
Third person, past tense only.
Grammar/spelling errors aren't the end of the world. Goodness knows spellcheck sometimes makes things worse rather than better.
PMs preferred. I don't post in public. Will consider other platforms such as email or Google Docs.
18+ only.
Extremely queer friendly.
I work in the medical field. I work Tues-Friday 7a-7p CST and I'm often on call overnight and on weekends. I can usually do a post every few days but it's not uncommon for me to go a week or two without being able to reply. If you absolutely NEED a post every day then I'm not the partner for you.
Mature themes! Come to me with your weird desires, kinks and fantasy scenarios. I won't judge. The worst thing I can do is say no. I'm not a huge fan of excessive gore and body horror for its own sake but things like intense fight scenes and gratuitous smut and such are great.
Romance. Definitely hoping for a romantic connection. Cishet is fine, but I'm especially fond of non-cishet pairings/triads/etc. Polyamoury is a fave. Definitely open to exploring a wide variety of romantic tropes.
Ghosting: I don't mind if you have to ghost. This is your warning that if I don't hear from you in two weeks from your last communication with me I will just assume you've ghosted. No hard feelings. You don't need to explain why you don't want to play anymore, but if it's because of something I did I would appreciate you taking the time to tell me so that I can improve for the future. If you have ghosted me in the past I will still probably want to start up again or start something new. I don't hold grudges.
Some of my favourite things
Some of my not-so favourite things
* I don't like fading to black.
* No minors in sexual situations.
* Shapeshifters who are really unrestricted in what they can change into.
* I generally don't like High School or slice-of-life Modern AUs
* No "anime" RPs, especially mecha/robots because I suck at them. I haven't seen much anime in my life.
* If you want to do character sheets you'll have to mention it because I don't normally think about them.
* I try not to use real people face-claims but it's not a huge deal.
* I don't mind if you like to make your posts fancy with coloured text and pics and music and videos and stuff and I will enjoy it if you do, but I'm old and won't remember to do that stuff in my posts so if that will make you feel unappreciated then I might not be the partner for you.
Plots
If you want writing samples, just ask! I have tons. I will expect one from you.
Please PM me, do not post in this thread!
Here's mine!
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