Kaithe Dame — Roleplayer Guild

"GOD CAN EAT MY ASS."

"YOU DON'T HAVE AN ASS, PAUL."

Once upon a time it would have shocked onlookers to see blasphemy like this sprawled across the walls, but after twenty years it had become one with the city, one of a million imperfections that repeated in every hellish urban sprawl. Passerby saw it and either held their hands to their mouths in offense, laughed, or rolled their eyes before forgetting about it and moving on with the endless march of their lives.

All of them, moving on. Fifteen years ago and they would have formed a mob and the lynchings would've been well underway.

Instead all she has to work with are six-hundred underpaid, unenthusiastic, and tired looking laborers to scrub clean each section of the walls before the day of the victory parade, a particularly eventful one if the rumors were to believed. Mephisto the Black had supposedly been captured in battle, his citadel stormed before being torn down. He was the most senior of Ilya's Magi, and for that reason alone she doubted that he was truly a prisoner and not a pig that he'd weaved a mirage over while he escaped. The first parade they'd held he'd managed to get out of his cage, kidnap the mother of the Lord who held him captive, and put her in his place. Millions flocked to witness the humiliation of demonkind's most powerful mage, and instead they bore witness to a Lord's furious mother ragging him.

So far they hadn't brought to justice a single lieutenant of the Overlord's empire, and many peasants and Lords looked down at them for that, incredulous at their failure to truly defeat even a single one of a dozen demons who spent as much time killing one another as they killed humans and elves. "Ilya's empire is broken!" They yelled down their noses, "So how is it each of her underlings vexes us so?"

Well. Fuck them. Ilya had only been the most supreme of the litter of them, and before she was banished she'd managed to send to the grave hundreds of thousands of the world's finest soldiers, leaving the world with nothing to finish off her followers except sixth born sons and daughters who spent nearly as much time drunk and rutting as they did betraying their mortality and joining the enemy, adding one more headache to their mission.

Maybe if they actually paid them properly they could afford-...

"Savior?"

Blinking through her daily rant, her squire was looking up at her awkwardly, his half-blooded demonic eyes watching her with worry. He must've been trying to get her attention for who knows how long, and, sputtering out an apology, she asks, "Go on, Alfred. What is it?"

"A letter."

Two decades ago a Fellowship of heroines defeated Satan, saving the world from her attempts to end serfdom and the tyranny of theocracy. Entire kingdoms and empires were laid to waste in the wake of her invasion, and now they spend their days hunting down hoodlums and graffiti artists. Until, one day, each of them receive a letter to join one another for a celebration of their victory at the place they'd defeated their enemy- organized by the only man that had joined their ranks.

Don't care about your gender, but the foremost pairing(s) here are FxF and potentially MxF with myself playing the male; a disgruntled, betrayed male member of the Fellowship who has brought back Ilya (the Overlord, Satan, etc) to take their mutual revenge. You'll be playing one or multiple members of the Fellowship who decide to attend this gettogether.

Kinks; spankings, orgasm denial, internalized homophobia (demons casually accepting it, humans and elves not so much), fantasy interracial, hatesex, capture, cunnilingus, so on. Don't expect extreme kinks such as non-con, tentacles, animals, or anything of the sort.
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Vylinius of Varathia

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