Discover Top Posts Tagged with #silverbloods

... my letter involves the Oath.

Dear Lady Illyria,

I am truly grief stricken for the sorrow you must be feeling. The loss your father, nephew, and of course, Hamish is a loss that will be felt throughout all of Amelor. I know this is a difficult time for you, and I shall keep my correspondence brief out of respect for you and your family.

Although my words will bring little relief, know that I am here for you and Anders, and the Belzen’s stand ready to assist our great Corsin allies. You need only say the word. You, Lady, are strong and resilient. I have little doubt that you will successfully carry your great house through these troubling times with the grace that befits your name.

The primary reason for my letter involves the Oath. As much as I desire to carry out the promise made by our late fathers, I cannot pretend that this tragedy doesn’t put great emotional strain on your soul. And I cannot in good conscious force you to carry it out. Although he has left us, your bond with Hamish was deep and true. I cannot look beyond that, and neither should you. With our fathers gone, the oath need not become public knowledge.

My only hope is that this small gesture will help ease your pain and allow you to continue with your life as you see fit. You. Deserve nothing less.

May the spirits bless you and guide you.

Yours truly,

Lord Byrncroft Belzen

#cotrlarp #cotr #chroniclesoftherealm #moonrisegames #larp #liveactiongaming #liveactionroleplay #immersivegaming #fantasy #illyriacorsin #byrncroftbelzen #corsins #royals #silverbloods

Silverbloods Chapter One

Dust stirred wildly in the wind as the sun cast out its last rays, leaving streaks of pink and orange striped through the approaching blues and purples of the night. A lone wanderer stumbled against the breeze, a scarf wrapped around their face in a haphazard attempt to protect it from the sand being whipped around them violently.

The heat was slowly dissipating, replaced by an almost too cool breeze, it had brought thirst, leaving their tongue feeling like sandpaper. Their canteen, swinging slowly in the breeze, had been taunting them since it was emptied days ago and wasn't able to stay still in the breeze.

They continued to trudge through the sand, staggering and barely able to stay upright as they kept going, dehydration and fatigue gaining on them.

The wanderer eventually reached the crest of a dune, falling to their knees as the sun finally disappeared, taking what little light was left. Their eyes searched the horizon as they felt their body start to shut down. In the dark, they could make out small shaded boxes and odd shapes with glints of orange and yellows bouncing off of them in the distance.

They quickly dropped to their knees and slipped off their backpack, vision blurring slightly as they dig frantically through it. Finally, they felt the smooth, warmed plastic of the pistol and pulled it out.

They fumbled with it, fingers brushing and checking if it was still loaded. After feeling the flare plugged inside, they aimed between them and the shapes with shaky hands.

Sending out a quick prayer, they pulled the trigger, and then everything went black.

The first thing they notice when they wake up is their head pounding, and how dry their mouth still is, then it's the way too loud voices coming from behind them.

While opening their eyes slowly, the brightness almost unbearable at first, they slowly roll from their side onto their back. They groan softly and close their eyes again tightly, their muscles protesting so much movement.

The voices hush and they grab onto the sides of the cot, grunting as they slowly sit up on their makeshift bed. They quickly scan the surroundings, searching for possible escape routes or weapons, finding a sturdy looking plank of wood in the corner behind them, before looking at the three people standing in the middle of the room.

Two of them looked quite a bit older than the third, their dark hair riddled with silvers and grays. One was a bearded man, who had wrinkles that deepened his frown, with sharp eyes and features that made him appear gaunt almost; while the older woman had a more rounded face with soft eyes and laugh lines that gave her a jolly appearance. The third was probably around their age, they were much taller, towering over the other two by about six inches, their eyes had a spark to them, but the wanderer couldn't tell the color from this far. Their hair was shaved on one side, short and disheveled and oddly bright, almost platinum, the wanderer had never seen such hair color. The last thing they noticed was how all three were looking at them, expectedly.

"Uh," their voice was soft and scratchy, throat hoarse from the lack of use and water, "what?"

The younger one chuckled softly, their whole body relaxing as they smiled at the wanderer, earning a glare from the sharp man before he faced them again.

"I said, who are you, and why are you here?" His voice was deep and rumbly, low like a roll of thunder, "And don't think about lying, we'll have you strung up for the vultures if it sounds off in the slightest bit."

They swallowed thickly, their throat dry and rough.

"My name is Arryn," they shifted uncomfortably under the man's gaze, "I'm traveling, just trying to get as far away from Vashan as possible."

#lgbt stories #original story #gay #my writing #silverbloods