#thebastardsopenrps

[wardenforaking]

“My Lord/Lady. It’s an honour to see you this evening.” The freshly crowned King spoke with a welcoming bow. “I’m glad you could attend tonight’s festivities.”

[wardenforaking]

Open RP Starter

The throne room had finally emptied, the last noble's polished boots echoing away through the great hall. Alistair let out a slow breath, shoulders relaxing as he tugged at the collar of his royal tunic with an expression that suggested he'd rather face a darkspawn horde than another hour of court politics.

"So," he sighed, glancing toward you with a crooked, familiar smile, "good news: nobody challenged my right to the throne today. Bad news? Three different banns somehow managed to argue over sheep for nearly an hour."

He shook his head, an amused laugh escaping him.

"I keep waiting for someone to admit they're all having me on. 'Congratulations, Your Majesty, you've passed the test. Real kings don't actually have to settle disputes over whose ram looked at whose ewe the wrong way.'"

[wardenforaking]

Final goodbye's ||Open rp

It's been months since the King had last been sighted within Denerim. Word traveled of a sudden illness to which had badly damaged the former Warden, causing the palace to be placed under lockdown. The gates to which parted the rich and the poor were kept closely guarded. Never opened except for those who had travelled to offer their services to aid the withering King's life in hopes to cure the man of whatever sickness filled his blood stream. Others thought it a curse, whilst a small minority knew Alistair to be suffering the effects of the poison to which sealed his fate some years ago. The calling had caught up to the poor noble far sooner than anticipated. And it was killing him as he lay barely conscious within the royal chambers surrounded by armed guards and many healers who offered to help ease the King's suffering. Due to such circumstance, the crown spoke of three national days of mourning whilst managing to send word to those most close to the Theirin line of their King's ill health.

[wardenforaking]

Chilled fingertips soothed over the single carved letters upon the still preserved headstone. After receiving news of his uncertain days to which the aged Warden and King would soon pass from this world, Alistair, through painful blitz through his body from the poisoned, tainted blood within his blackening veins, finally decided to make the small walk up to where the monument lay in respect to his fallen Warden and father like figure to speak what could be his last breathed words.

[wardenforaking]

    “I’m no hero. I never was..”

[wardenforaking]

“Got any room for a hug?”

[wardenforaking]

The White Wolf’s Return ||Open RP (OUAT!Verse) (Wolf!Ali)

The smell of freshly cut fear crazed his corrupt, dark mind. Once a animal of the people now turned a bloody nightmare as each paw walked in front of the other at the side of his newly bound mistress. 

Shock eloped the village as each face glued to the thought deceased hero. Once blue, hopeful eyes now lay infused with blood stared back as he stood guard at his mistresses side.

No longer was he a man of the people... but a beast, a soul corrupt by evil.

The white wolf had returned.

[wardenforaking]

“Long time no see, my friend.”