#alahqstarter

[xofswordandcrownsx]

The dragon rider ran the whetstone along the edge of his alabaster blade, sharpening the edges as he sat just outside the stables that housed the dragons visiting Dele. Learning of the death of King Morris had given Rodrik a warning, a warning that things were not quite as peaceful as he would've liked to believe, and he knew that he needed to be on guard lest he wants one of his own sovereigns to wind up falling too.

Hearing the sound of grass crunch under a boot, however, the rider stilled in his movements as Udriam licked at his mind with curiosity - wondering if he needed to venture out - and he shifted his position so that the person that was nearby knew that they weren't going to get one over on him. "Did you need somethin'?" the silver-haired rider spoke as cerulean eyes settled in on the other's presence.

[stagsofaldonia]

Near Dele | Open Starter

Open to Anyone. About Joaquin

What had started as a perfectly ordinary day had turned into a comedy of errors. Joaquin had decided to travel with the royal baggage train from Ondera to Dele for the funeral. There were some horse ranches along the way that he wanted to visit; mostly to find a gift for his intended.

However, storms had washed out the roads in some places so instead of taking a slightly longer route, they had gone a much shorter one, through dangerous territory. They had repulsed a bandit attack and discovered a pair of rutting stags was not a monster. Now, quite close to Dele, they were brought low by a muddy rut and a broken axel.

So now the Crown Prince of Ondera sits atop a carriage with a crossbow, on the look out for help or danger. Turning, when he sees someone arrive, he says with a half laugh, “Friend or foe? It has absolutely been that kind of a journey, so is it safe to be happy to see you, or do you bear more disappointing news or grim tidings?”

[slicexofxtheirxlives]

Brint let out a small and content sigh from his spot at the bar of the tavern. The right hand had his head resting on the counter top with a mug of ale still in one of his hands. When he tilted his head up, most people around could see the large grin on his face along with a pair of cute dimples on his cheeks. Brint needed a break. Needed to just not worry about politics and doom and gloom for a moment and just get wasted. And right now? He would say that was a successful mission. Currently he's just enjoying the results. Relaxing peacefully in a haze.

He looked off to the side and offered the man who just took the stool a grin. The ex-warrior allowed his eyes to roam up and down the other man's body for a moment, trying to see if this is someone he should recognize. "Well hello there, handsome," Brint said with a small chuckle, his words having a hint of a slur to them.

"You come here often?" Gods knows Brint does. He's never been one to turn down a fun time or a good mug of ale.

[divasofaladonia]

There were many things about Alistair Warren that were true, he was intelligent and charming as well ambitious and bold in many ways. All good qualities in their own right. But like most there were darker parts to him, the desire for power and his own selfish wants mixed with powerful magic made him a threat to those who crossed him. But sometimes that darker side came out in simpler ways, such as in punishing those who clearly deserved it in the warden's eyes.

Such as right now, as Alistair witnessed a foolish excuse of a man who was clearly too drunk and too grotesque to know better than to not invade the space of another like that without permission. Only made worse by the arrogant words spewing from his mouth, likely someone who had enough station to think themselves above respecting others.

Which is why, with just a twist of his own fingers, the sound of bones snapping under telekinetic magic causing the man to scream bloody murder and drop whatever he'd been holding in that hand, clutching the broken wrist with the other hand. No doubt some would rush to his side to see what was wrong, Alistair would not be one of them. Instead he would simply take a sip from his drink, looking effortlessly composed if not slightly annoyed by the man's frantic yells.

[rampithou]

open to: anyone! location: a private meditation chamber in the cerulean castle

Ram didn’t consider himself devoutly religious beyond his baseline belief in Aznas the Strong. His father really hammered dogma into him as a youth and he resented it, so once he became king himself, he swore he’d never insist on pushing any of the Gods into the lives of his children... or at least, back when he believed he would become king and have children of his own. Those days were long gone now. 

But even still, he did feel a longing to meditate at least once a week, which he did in solitude and away from peering eyes in this private chamber of the castle. He may have not been king, but a Pithou was a Pithou, thusly granting him access to most rooms in their royal residence. A special one reserved solely for meditating, he’d been told by his father. Nobody ever bothered him here; he may as well have been up in the mountains completely alone when he came here. Or at least, usually.

Ram hears the giant steel door behind him creak open, but he does not address the interruption or even so much as glance his head backwards to face it. His eyes remain closed, peering into his inner self as he sits on the cold tile floor, trying to remain in his state of zen despite the other person.

“Whatever this is, I am sure it can wait,” he tells the intruder, his tone equal parts calm and annoyed. “But why do I have a feeling you won’t...?”

[taniocanalo]

open to: anyone!

Tanio always loved tending to a garden. It reminded her of her childhood, before she grew into the beautiful queen she was now. Planting gorgeous flowers with her mother, waiting for them to bloom... it taught her patience. Not to take anything for granted. That helped her out quite alright in the grand scheme of things.

It was her who pushed for the cultivation of the Queen’s Gardens; a large botanical conservatory open for all of Aladonia to see, free of charge. This undertaking brought Tanio into great esteem with her subjects. The Gardens were her legacy, and nobody could take that away from her.

(That being said, nobody needed to know how many times her husband ravished her in those flowers... not that she would be ashamed to admit it.)

When not in the castle, she could often be found tending to her greenery, and clearly someone knew this well enough for them to approach her right then and there, hands deep into the soil — wearing pretty little gloves, of course.

“I sense my attention is desired,” she giggles, looking up at the other person with a warm smile. “Or maybe I’d like it to be desired... no matter, what is it that you need from me?”

[theatomichero]

open to: nobles or royals. location: balcony with a view of the castle grounds, in ondera.

with the rapport he’s worked so hard to build in the kingdom of ondera, remy made sure to put in extra effort when serving a powerful nobleman — and even more so towards members of the royal family. the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint, as his personal motto involved leaving all customers satisfied. either one way, or another. the redhead practically glided down the long corridor of the castle, a silver tray of delicacies balanced perfectly in a single hand and impeccable poise with each step he took. “here you are, sir,” he spoke before setting the teapot and saucers first on the table, followed by a fine porcelain cup. next were the savory sandwiches. lastly came the baked goods which consisted of scones and a slice of cake. "i hope all is to your liking. and if there’s anything you need... please don’t hesitate to ask.” a little flirtation laced his words. to top everything off, his signature pearly white smile. 

[evoke-galahad]

𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖 || location: eddis, galahad's tower. open to: you. yeah you.

"Pro...tect. Pro...ject. No that's the wrong sequence. Wrong conjunction." Galahad was thinking aloud to himself, pouring over a collection of arcane texts. On one part of his table there was a large sheet of parchment with hundreds of lines of runes written on it, most in mingling sequences, like mathematic formulas. Galahad stood, scribbling some new ones down with a feather quill. "Pro...tect. There we go. "Igni protect..." Galahad set the quill down and stood to his full height, holding out an arm, waving his hand over the flesh of his forearm. Across the skin appeared the runic sequences he had just written down. Satisfied, Galahad walked over to the blazing fire that warmed his tower and stuck his entire arm in, unaware of the vistor that had just entered his domain.