SEA BLOODED.

"I know you've long waited this day. We strike at Nilfgaard!" Independent Hjalmar An Craite RP Blog.

[fassophy]

[shinesdifferently]

I very rarely promote my own stuff but my short story, The Wind Rider, is now available to be purchased as part of New Realm’s latest Magazine. Buy it for $3.99 and there are other great stories with it from established fantasy writers and new. 

https://www.fictionmagazines.com/shop/realm-issues/new-realm-vol-04-no-10/ 

[allsoundsasscreed]

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“Randy Dandy-O”

Now we are ready to sail for the Horn, Weigh hey, roll and go! Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

Heave a pawl, O heave away! Weigh hey, roll and go! The anchor’s on board an’ the cable’s all stored, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

Soon we’ll be warping her out through the locks, Weigh hey, roll and go! Where the pretty young girls all come down in their flocks, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

Heave a pawl, O heave away! Weigh hey, roll and go! The anchor’s on board an’ the cable’s all stored, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

Come breast the bars, bullies, heave her away, Weigh hey, roll and go! Soon we’ll be rolling her down through the Bay, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

Heave a pawl, O heave away! Weigh hey, roll and go! The anchor’s on board an’ the cable’s all stored, To be rollicking randy dandy-O!

[vikingrollo-deactivated20160114]

[sonofskellige-blog]

Bring me that horizon.

[sonofskellige-blog]

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[xintrean-a]

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[sonofskellige-blog]

She sounded like the nightingales who came to Ard Skellig for the summer and crooned during the long and lazy nights. It was a beautiful sound, a melody to which he knew the notes off by heart and he wanted her to sing until her throat was raw. His grip on her buttocks tightened, even going so far as to deliver a hard and playful slap to the right. He left behind a red welt, marking his territory, marking her as his own.

The king thrusted vigorously, slamming into her again and again. It was the build up of weeks without her touch and he needed to unleash it all until his head was clear and his heart wasn’t so heavy. Hjalmar curled his hands up her body, moving them around her chest and clamping down so she'd have to stand up with her back pressed into his torso.

His head came over her shoulder and he willed her to look at him. His mouth enveloped hers at the same time his hands played and teased her breasts. Meanwhile, his movements became even rowdier and full of passion. 

[sonofskellige-blog]

Hugs his middle and presses her forehead to his chest, nuzzling it. She's not letting go of him any time soon.

He looked down at her, so vulnerable, so happy and strong and vibrant. Every day he asked himself what he did right to deserve her. Hjalmar encircled her waist with his right arm, pulling her into the fur of his coat so she could take as much refuge against the cold as she needed.

His other hand moved to the back of her head so his fingers could thread into her hair. He stroked a few loose tresses, thinking of spun silver. Hjalmar leaned in and kissed her forehead, propping his head atop hers for a little while so he could soak in the peace of the moment.

Her affection gave him strength and though he’d told her a hundred times he’d tell her again. “I love you,” he whispered, lips bridging the distance to meld with her own.

[sonofskellige-blog]

Living in the moment.

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[sonofskellige-blog]

The heat coming off her body was unlike anything he’d experienced. Hjalmar was used to the kiss of the ocean, the salt spray in his hair and the cold of the islands. If he was the ocean then she was the sun. If he was the waves she was the fire that warmed the hearts of lads who’d returned from a night of pillaging and raids. She was everything he’d been missing in his life and everything he needed for a brighter tomorrow.

His thrusts became more powerful, his manhood buried deeper. His hands ran over her curves and up again, eager to touch every inch of flesh. His forehead pressed to hers with a tenderness he rarely showed. Hjalmar kissed her like it was his last day on earth and touched her as if he’d never known a woman before.

His pleasure heightened, his excitement doubled. His lips crested her neck and moved to the rythm of their hips rolling together. 

[sonofskellige-blog]

Bring me that horizon.

[sonofskellige-blog]

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[xintrean-a]

Not intending to be difficult, the young woman WRITHED pleasantly in his arms as though his touch was the lick of flames, her head thrashed back against the mast, then lulled sideways for Hjalmar to lave her neck with kisses. In the meantime, a hand which was stroking the length of his arms skated up to the nape of his neck, massaging it encouragingly as he thighs spread slightly open for the male to wedge himself properly between them.

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[sonofskellige-blog]

Her desperate mewling was glorious and he took some small measure of comfort in teasing her as she had him. Wasting no more time, Hjalmar slipped between her thighs, a grunt rising on a crest of wind and carried out to sea. His hands took hold of her hips, his manhood pushing deeper. Gods, how he’d missed her, missed the sensation of her walls spasming around him.

The king slammed into her like a thunder clap, his fingers bunching into her ghostly hair and using it for leverage to keep her against the mast. The other hand gripped her buttocks possessively. “Mmmm,” another grunt, loud and dominant. 

Hjalmar found his rhythm easily, each thrust powerful, meaningful. His every ministration was a declaration of his love, of how much he’d missed her. 

[sweetladylucrezia]

[sairceketli]

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[brucee-waynee]

[sonofskellige-blog]

Living in the moment.

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[rosattminnas-blog]

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[sonofskellige-blog]

His ministrations were slow, deliberate. Each motion pushed him a little further, his intention to make her feel every inch. Enough words had been said; it was better to let their actions speak louder. Hjalmar let his mouth hang agape, his sea-blue eyes boring into hers with a mixture of intensity and affection. It was as if she'd anchored him to the spot and he could do naught but feed her his love.

The king arched his back,  rolling in and out like the tide lapping against the beach. Every now and then his gaze wandered to her bandages, mindful of not going overboard. He knew there would be many times in future where he could unleash. This was different, this was deeper, more meaningful. 

“Triss,” he grunted, tilting his head to the ceiling and his red mane fell over his shoulders as a fiery curtain. 

[allsoundsasscreed]

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“Leave Her Johnny”

(Lyrics from Maxil Lyrics, Contemplator, and Anitra)

O, I thought I heard the Ol’ Man say, Leave her, Johnny, Leave her! Tomorrow ye will get your pay, An’ it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her, O, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don’t blow, And it’s time for us to leave her!

The wind was foul an’ the sea ran high, Leave her, Johnny, Leave her! She shipped it green an’ none went by, An it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her, O, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don’t blow, And it’s time for us to leave her!

I hate to sail on this rotten tub, Leave her, Johnny, leave her! No grog allowed an’ rotten grub, An’ it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her, O, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don’t blow, And it’s time for us to leave her!

We swear by rote for want o’ more, O, leave her, Johnny, leave her! But now we’re through so we’ll go on shore, An’ it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her, O, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don’t blow, And it’s time for us to leave her!

Download this sea shanty here!

You can also use this sea shanty for the giveaway. (:

[sonofskellige-blog]

Living in the moment.

[rosattminnas-blog]

sonofskellige

Hjalmar was very careful with how he treated her. His arm draped lightly over her shoulder as their lips connected, the path to a brighter future mapped out on the slope of her tongue. When they parted his mouth was left tingling and he immediately wanted to be near her again, to never leave her side. The young man felt her arms around him and he knew he was home.

“'Fraid you’re stuck with me then.” He fixed her with a boyish smile, his dark eyes glinting like the sun refracting off the ocean on a warm, summer day. Hjalmar kissed her again, his free hand slipping beneath her clothes and away from her injuries so he could caress her lower back.

Like she’d done in their previous encounter, she stopped viewing herself as herself, and rather that they were one. Even just by their kiss and his arm around her it invoked that feeling again. She smiled gently into the kiss, relaxing the tensions in her body, relaxing back against him. When he caresses her lower back, she leans to face him and draws her hands across his beard. 

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me as well,” She laughs and leans up to kiss him fully and passionately, her hands cupping his face while her hair falls from it’s loose buns and cascades down her shoulders, looking far longer than someone would suspect for the size of the buns that she wore.

[sonofskellige-blog]

Hjalmar grinned into the kiss, feeling as if he’d sailed into clear, calm waters at last. The course of his kingship had been rocky, beset with battles, enemies and responsibility. With the knowledge of a woman he loved by his side, Hjalmar understood where his focus needed to be. His fingers run freely through her fiery tresses, enjoying the smoothness. He’d never touched anything so soft.

The king wanted her, wanted to show her how much she meant to him. Her injuries were at the back of his mind though he would not hurt her. The most potent healing done in Skellige was to bed the one who sent the wind to guide you safely back to port.

“That thing ya’ done when you make our clothes disappear…it’d come in real handy now,” Hjalmar grunted playfully, his mouth trapesing along the crook of her neck.  

[rosattminnas-blog]

Triss laughs lightly as he spoke, she trailed her hands down his neck to rest at his shoulders. She wasn’t worried currently about her wounds and them opening up– her mind was preoccupied with Hjalmar and how close she wanted him now. A small glow of orange energy ghost along her hands, the energy becoming brighter for a moment, then it went away.

Once done with the small spell, they sat before each other completely bare. The sorceress leans away from him for a second, taking a long look over him. That night they’d first slept together, she didn’t get much of an opportunity to actually see all of him. Her eyes were shameless in where they wandered or lingered, a bit of blush on her cheeks as she looks him back in the eyes. “I just wanted a moment to– just look at you.” 

[sonofskellige-blog]

The queer glow was something he’d barely noticed the last time, his head full of mead and his heart filled with lust. It washed over him and robbed him of his clothes, or made them vanish completely. Magic was a strange thing, and the complexities were something he’d leave to scholars and druids. He stood as naked as the day he was born, muscular frame glowing in the dim light of the candles.

He drank in the sight of her, dark eyes first inspecting her wound and then spreading to her teats, the curve of her hips, the roundness of her naval and the  flat of her stomach. “There’s plenty to look at so I don’t blame you.” His lips curled and he chortled, cupping her cheek with his right hand.

Hjalmar kissed her deeply, slowly pressing her down into the mattress. He positioned himself above her, careful not to apply too much pressure. He felt the difference, the clarity swirling around him. His mind was clear and he wanted to make love to her. 

[rosattminnas-blog]

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[sonofskellige-blog]

Her question gave him pause and he looked her in the eye. He was often known to make impulsive decisions, especially when drunk, but their coupling was not something borne of impulse. Hjalmar had not felt his heart stir for a long time, not since his boyhood, and when the flames of love burned around him he could only fan them. 

“Aye,” said the king, his voice firm with purpose. “I want to bed you now an’ till the end of my days.” It was as close to romantic as he could manage in their current situation. Hjalmar kissed her quickly, wishing to banish all doubt. His mouth enveloped her until he moved to kiss her breasts, nuzzling the round peaks.

He shifted his hips, pushing inside of her slowly. A faint grunt escaped him and he started to thrust at a relaxed pace. 

[princessgisla]

[sonofskellige-blog]

But listen, Geralt, you've a king for a mate. Rare’s the man who can claim that. If you or Ciri, or you and Ciri...if yous ever need help, the gates of Kaer Trolde stand open.  

[sonofskellige-blog]

Living in the moment.

[rosattminnas-blog]

sonofskellige

Hjalmar was very careful with how he treated her. His arm draped lightly over her shoulder as their lips connected, the path to a brighter future mapped out on the slope of her tongue. When they parted his mouth was left tingling and he immediately wanted to be near her again, to never leave her side. The young man felt her arms around him and he knew he was home.

“'Fraid you’re stuck with me then.” He fixed her with a boyish smile, his dark eyes glinting like the sun refracting off the ocean on a warm, summer day. Hjalmar kissed her again, his free hand slipping beneath her clothes and away from her injuries so he could caress her lower back.

Like she’d done in their previous encounter, she stopped viewing herself as herself, and rather that they were one. Even just by their kiss and his arm around her it invoked that feeling again. She smiled gently into the kiss, relaxing the tensions in her body, relaxing back against him. When he caresses her lower back, she leans to face him and draws her hands across his beard. 

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me as well,” She laughs and leans up to kiss him fully and passionately, her hands cupping his face while her hair falls from it’s loose buns and cascades down her shoulders, looking far longer than someone would suspect for the size of the buns that she wore.

[sonofskellige-blog]

Hjalmar grinned into the kiss, feeling as if he’d sailed into clear, calm waters at last. The course of his kingship had been rocky, beset with battles, enemies and responsibility. With the knowledge of a woman he loved by his side, Hjalmar understood where his focus needed to be. His fingers run freely through her fiery tresses, enjoying the smoothness. He’d never touched anything so soft.

The king wanted her, wanted to show her how much she meant to him. Her injuries were at the back of his mind though he would not hurt her. The most potent healing done in Skellige was to bed the one who sent the wind to guide you safely back to port.

“That thing ya’ done when you make our clothes disappear…it’d come in real handy now,” Hjalmar grunted playfully, his mouth trapesing along the crook of her neck.  

[rosattminnas-blog]

Triss laughs lightly as he spoke, she trailed her hands down his neck to rest at his shoulders. She wasn’t worried currently about her wounds and them opening up– her mind was preoccupied with Hjalmar and how close she wanted him now. A small glow of orange energy ghost along her hands, the energy becoming brighter for a moment, then it went away.

Once done with the small spell, they sat before each other completely bare. The sorceress leans away from him for a second, taking a long look over him. That night they’d first slept together, she didn’t get much of an opportunity to actually see all of him. Her eyes were shameless in where they wandered or lingered, a bit of blush on her cheeks as she looks him back in the eyes. “I just wanted a moment to– just look at you.” 

[sonofskellige-blog]

The queer glow was something he’d barely noticed the last time, his head full of mead and his heart filled with lust. It washed over him and robbed him of his clothes, or made them vanish completely. Magic was a strange thing, and the complexities were something he’d leave to scholars and druids. He stood as naked as the day he was born, muscular frame glowing in the dim light of the candles.

He drank in the sight of her, dark eyes first inspecting her wound and then spreading to her teats, the curve of her hips, the roundness of her naval and the  flat of her stomach. “There’s plenty to look at so I don’t blame you.” His lips curled and he chortled, cupping her cheek with his right hand.

Hjalmar kissed her deeply, slowly pressing her down into the mattress. He positioned himself above her, careful not to apply too much pressure. He felt the difference, the clarity swirling around him. His mind was clear and he wanted to make love to her.