The Three Kings War

the king is dead and a new day is born. with the threat that eros may once more be plunged into a thousand years of war , the time to decide is now -to decide which side you are on, who you can trust, and even between ambition and b l o o d. Mobile Navigation

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threekingswar is a historical fantasy roleplay currently accepting apps for our many open character bios as well as oc’s. so whether you are looking for a place to further explore your developed characters or discover someone new, we have what you are looking for. i am going to be around for a few more hours to answer any questions you may have!

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What sort of roles would you prefer to see? Species?

as far as original characters go i would love to see some knights, servants, prostitutes, holy men, or low born nobles. for species i would love to see some more fair folk, or others!

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What sort of events do you have planned?

we have a number of celebration related events planned for after we open, as well as a few plot drop focused events that will bring in new characters to the roleplay! our first event will be the king’s coronation ball which will allow all the characters to get to know each other!

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hello all, we are a new semi-appless historical fantasy roleplay with plenty of open characters and four slots for original characters! we will be opening at 15 applications so come check us out and apply! i will be around for the rest of the evening to answer any and all questions sent our way!

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Introducing , Isla Lazul, the twenty-three year old Princess of Vasile. The other looks remarkably like Sarah Bolger. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“You have turned your heart into a museum of people you’ve loved to keep them alive inside you.”

The History of Isla Lazul:

There was surely a time when the life of young Isla Lazul had been a happy one, she was sure of that much. The taste of that life lingering like as a phantom on her tongue, something familiar that she could not identify. But however happy her life had once been, however carefree she may have existed, things could not remain as such forever. 

She was no farther in life than her seventh year when she came to discover her own gift, and it was not long afterwards that she confided in her mother. The queen of Vasile had always been a stark contrast to the king, as cold and as unyielding as he was, she had been equally warm and comforting. So, it did not come as such a surprise that her admission would be followed by a kind embrace, but the words of the Queen -whispered into her ear- did. The young princess and her mother had far more in common than their sweet dispositions, but their gifts as well, to pull the truth from the lips of even the most unwilling man .

Still, life was not so horrible knowing she was different than other children. It was bearable, even after her father began limiting how often his children could their mother. It was not until a short few years later that all memory of her previously happy life was eclipsed. Dragged one evening from the warmth of her bed, she remembered still the cold of the stone beneath her bare feet as she was lead into the lower levels of the castle, and the look upon her mother’s face as she sat behind bars. The task that her father’s men presented her seemed easy enough, she need only ask her mother one question, “what can Christian do?” Even Isla knew the answer to that, having discovered her brothers gift some time ago. But before she could give them the answer or follow their command, her mother caught her attention, and in the darkened cell beneath the castle she made a promise to her frantic mother, to never ask that question of anyone. 

Isla had never considered the king a kind man, but she had never thought him capable of any true sins. He was the man who cared for a whole people, the man who raised her. But as her wide and tired eyes watched as bruise upon bruise appeared on her mother’s delicate skin over the course of hours of interrogation, she wondered if he could be a man at all. The guards returned her soon after to her chambers, her cheeks raw and her tears running. She did not understand until she lay in her bed that night why her mother would make her promise to protect her brother’s secret, but as the night events replayed in her mind and her father’s face haunted her dreams, she saw the thing that her brother might become if only the King knew his value. 

She did her best to continue on with her life following that day, every week she would see her mother in that cell once again, every week the queen fading further from herself, but every week Isla kept her promise, until her mother had faded entirely from their world.

Now, years later the young princess has kept her promise. Her father may be long buried but she has come to know that there are others in the world around them who would see harm done to her family. But, newly arrived to the Erosian court she has found new obstacles to her promise. The newly crowned king, Adrian Kadare. 

About Isla Lazul:

Gentle, Warm, Loyal

Haunted, Impulsive, Childlike.

Relationships:

Adrian Kadare: Regardless of her efforts, she cannot help but feel drawn to the man who was unlike any king that she has ever known. They are both well aware that with her brother’s intentions and Adrian’s hand promised to another it can only end one way, but with him she has found a moment’s reprise from her duties to her family, and she cannot tear herself away. 

Christian Lazul: In many ways she had spent the better part of her life protecting her elder brother, but she knows still that without him her life would be a very different one indeed -married off to the first man with a full purse. She cannot help but worry how quickly his kindness towards her might change if he knew about her interactions with Adrian, and at times she sees within him the image of their father and is unsure of what exactly her brother may be capable of. 

Garrick Lazul: It was true that she and Garrick shared only one parent, but in many ways he was more a sibling to her than those who shared all of her blood. While Christian had been locked away to study, and Tulisa had been focused on the dignified pursuits of a princess, Garrick had shown her adventure and cleared her mind of the ghosts that haunted her come night. 

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Introducing , Adeline Deloraine, the twenty-eight year old lady of the Briar Glen. The half-fae woman looks remarkably like Margot Robbie. Unfortunately this character is CLOSED.

“Most of us are gifted with the ability to see the monsters hidden within another, but are unable to see past them. It takes a special kind of person to see the light inside of every living being.”

The History of Adeline DeLoraine:

People often spoke of the cruel nature of the god’s, but the young Cora Baker had never the time to hear them. No, it would seem that in her case the god’s were kind. Born to a mother and father of no stature whatsoever, Cora had never known the look that was so familiar to high born children, the gaze of a parent who expected -who needed- more from you than you could naturally give. They praised her as their miracle, a child who never should have been, and for all of the love that they gave her, she returned it ten fold. 

But regardless of how picturesque her first years had been, they could not continue thus. It was late one evening, as she accompanied her mother on their journey home from the bakery, that she came to know pain. Smoke billowed from the shattered windows of the cottage, flames cackled audibly from within. She did not understand much of what stood before her, but she knew with every fiber of her being, that her father had not escaped. 

She never would know the truth of that night or the events that followed, not as her mother loaded her into a carriage and they traveled for days on end, certainly not as she was left standing along on the front step of the orphanage. The only thing that she knew was the story her mother had told her to repeat, that both of her parents had died of the plague and the promise she had made to her before disappearing into the night, she would come back . As weeks turned into months, and she had lost count of the number of times she had recounted her tale, she began to allow herself to believe it. She was not Cora, the girl with two loving parents, nor was she Cora the girl awaiting her mother’s return, she was an orphan. 

She could not live in her sadness forever, she knew that, and so she set to work on befriending the other children. It was an easy task, and before long they had accepted her as a part of their makeshift family. It was then she noticed Sawyer.  The pair became thick as thieves, and closer than sisters, neither of them alone any longer. 

It was only following that day, when she’d fallen from the bridge and into the shallow water, that she began to question the reason for it all. Visions appearing suddenly in her mind of her father. His hair no longer peppered by the gray she had always known it to be, his face years younger and missing the beard she had grown accustomed to, her mother standing alongside him. Hand in hand. As young and as beautiful as the day she had left. Suddenly she could not help but wonder, why had her house burned down? Why did ‘safe’ mean she and her mother would be parted? But she and Sawyer would not have long to try and find answers, only weeks later she found herself swept away by the DeLoraine’s.

It was then that her identity changed once more, Cora Baker was wiped away by hours of lessons and reprimands, and left in her place was Adeline DeLoraine, Lady of the Briar Glen. In her new home she would come to realize that not all parents loved as hers had, it was under the care of the DeLoraine’s that she would finally come to realize the humour of the god’s. To them she was little more than a bargaining chip, to be traded and remembered as little more than a name. 

Now, Adeline finds herself in the city of Aldera, a guest of the court and her betrothed Viktor Farrow. Every muscle in her core screaming that she should run, and her own question the only thing that holds her in place. If it was something in the outside world that her mother had been running from, or something much closer to Adeline?

About Adeline DeLoraine:

Innocent, Kind, Forgiving.

Childish, Fearful, Non-Commital

Relationships:

Viktor Farrow: Adeline did not know much about the man she was told she would wed, but she knew without any confirmation after first looking in his eyes, that it was a great many years that separated them. She had never known before how stubborn she might be, and though some part of her pleaded for her to be kind, she much preferred keeping a safe distance.

Sawyer Ignita: The time the pair had spent apart had done nothing to weaken their bond, and for the first time in a long time Adeline felt safe in the presence of her friend. Sawyer remains the only one she trusts enough to help her search for answers. 

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Introducing , Calais Benou, the twenty-three year old lady of the Arkadia. The woman looks remarkably like Caitlin Stacey. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“ There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.”

The History of Calais Benou:

The future was not something that anyone could know for certain, but for the young lady of Arkadia, it was unusually unstable. This was the life of a young noble woman, surrendered to the hands of a father who had wished for sons and been awarded only with what he regarded as pawns by the gods. If he was a better man, or perhaps simply a man with lesser ambitions, he might have made the best of his hand in another way. In raising his daughter as he would his heir, in delivering Eros a woman ready to face it all better than any young lord or prince - it had always been clear that with her wit and sensibilities that Calais could have been capable of just that. Instead he raised up a bidding piece, crafted from clay and a malleable mind. She was a girl who would one day be queen, that much was clear to any who beheld her even as a babe, but she would not be carried there by her own good heart or striking intellect. 

Her first engagement, and that which had lasted the longest, had been to none other than the crowned prince of Vasile, Christian Lazul. Over the years it would be ended and reinstated by both of their father’s more times than she could feasibly count. But through the tumultuous waters of her father’s ever changing political allegiances, she found a safe port in her prince. Christian would be her first love, and by her own proclamation, her last as well. 

Though the aging Lord of Arkadia would not always have the kind of political pull she had grown so accustomed to, and following her sixteenth year, and yet another annulment of her engagement, the mines which had fed her families fortune for half of a millennia before her birth were suddenly barren. Of course her father had done his best to keep the family’s misfortune a secret, on the day that he ventured to the castle to promise her to the prince one last time -by some magic unknown to her- the king learnt of the Benou’s waning fortune.

And so, with their newfound desperation for a fortuitous marriage known only within the courts of Vasile, the lord sent his eldest daughter to Eros, a country they had abandoned a hundred years before, with the sole purpose of acquiring a wealthy husband who would have her, and saving them from ruin. 

Now, the young Lady lives under the -often times not so watchful- care of Cade Belfleur within the confines of the unfamiliar Erosian court. Every lesson she had learned leading up to the moment that she might find herself a crown, but with it growing increasingly uncertain who will remain seated upon the foreign throne, and her family depending on her success, her future is more uncertain than ever before. 

About Calais Benou:

cunning, witty, headstrong

naive, petulant, erratic

Relationships:

Christian Lazul: Calais doubted very much, that if there was some reality where they had never been promised to the other, that her heart could ever belong to another. But her admiration for the young king did not change her nature, and though his arrival in the Erosian courts had proven quite the distraction, she will not allow it to sway her from her course. 

Vera Tremayne: it was not common for women such as Calais and Vera to form many strong female friendships, but following their arrivals to Erosian court that was precisely what they did. This was not to say that they were a particularly heartwarming pair, but somehow they had formed a strong and silent bond. Where they could, they would aid the other, so long as such action would not put them at risk as well. 

Cade Belfleur: She thought it somewhat cruel of her father to unleash her on a man who had never known children of his own. Of course the lord was intelligent, and she was sure many found him intimidating, but without any real experience in looking after young women he was no match for herself. 

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Introducing , Warren Collins, the nineteen year old Blacksmith’s Apprentice. The other looks remarkably like Collin Morgan. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own.”

The History of Warren Collins:

It would become difficult to argue, upon knowing him, that there was a purer soul in Aldera than that of common boy Warren Collins. Though it might have been far too easy for some, to allow the cold and unforgiving air of the northern city of Knife’s Edge to harden an otherwise warm heart, there was no frost in existence capable of turning Warren. From the moment of his birth a warm flame had existed within his chest, that promised to warm and enchant anyone he encountered. 

Winter’s were harsh in the coastal Vasilian trading capitol, and the people had long ago learnt their own ways of surviving it. For the Collin’s family the most unsavoury methods had long ago been cast aside, leaving only hard work keeping them alive. He imagined his parent’s had been quite young upon having him, but he could not remember a time when the weathered lines of time and it’s trials had not existed intermingled with the creases of their smiles. Every morning, before the sun had time to rise, or their six children had time to wake, the pair were off. Mrs. Collins to the bakery, where she worked alongside her sister and her husband, remaining there until the day had died and always returning home surrounded by the warm scent of freshly baked bread and pastries. Mr. Collins headed off to the docks, where he worked his days on his old fishing boat with a measly crew of ten other men. It was safe to say his scent upon arriving home after a long days work was none too kind compared to that of his wife. But regardless of their hard work, and the constant struggle to feed the increasingly hungry children, the Collins were a happy family. 

At the age of seven, when young Warren first demonstrated his newfound gift to his parents, it had been a blessing. A year whose fishing season had left little money for anything more than the bread his mother returned home with had meant not much was left for kindling to warm the hearth of the small home. But as his mother always said, the god’s provided, and Warren found himself with the ability to bring to life a magnificent fire which burned hotter than any the humble fireplace had ever seen. In the year’s to come, his father would say it was he alone who had saved them. 

Soon it was Collin’s turn to provide for the home, and off he went to the homestead of one of the cities wealthier merchants, where he began his training as a stable hand with aspirations of someday being the stable keep. But it was after an argument had with his father about his choice of career that the true nature of fire itself was revealed to the young lad. Unruly, and unpredictable. The flame that burned within the home seemed to respond with every increasingly enraged sentence. And before Warren knew it, he had lost control. 

He only vaguely recalled the aftermath now, dragging the unconscious body of his father into the street as he watched the fire die out and leave behind only ash, as his mother sobbed. The physicians words that night had been spoken in the kindness manor, but that did nothing to comfort Warren. Mr. Collins would live, make a nearly full recovery, but he would never work again. With only his mother left to feed eight mouths, and Warren being the oldest child and the one responsible for it all, it was clear what he had to do. First he wrote to a distant cousin, Allard Williams, before composing a letter that would explain to his parents where he would be going and that he would send back his earnings at first chance. 

Now, Warren finds himself in an unfamiliar city, the apprentice of a blacksmith. Every night when he closes his eyes he sees that familiar glow of flames again, but it is not kind as it once was, nor warm, instead it threatens to burn his flesh, and devour everything it touches. 

About Warren Collins:

Ernest, Capable, Endearing

Conflicted, Bizarre, Clumsy

Relationships:

Allard Williams: Warren had never known his cousin before arriving in Aldera, having only met his mother’s brother twice in his lifetime. But Allard had nevertheless welcomed him with open arms, and made fast work of introducing him to the trade. In all honesty Warren thought he was merely glad to find some momentary distraction from his loneliness. Allard had the oddest look about him, like a flower that had bloomed out of turn, sprouting up through three feet of snow expecting spring.  

Gray Hastings: It was Warren’s own clumsiness that had landed him in the life of Lieutenant Gray Hastings, having stumbled down the steps outside of the palace and landed most fortuitously at the soldier’s feet. And it would be luck that would have him at the feet of a man that seemed to see humour in his misstep. It was a most strange and unpredictable friendship from then on, but one that he was grateful for nonetheless. 

Eliza Samuels: It was cold he had felt rush through him as his hand has reached out to shake that of the young courtesan, but unlike any cold that he had ever known. Like a breeze that shifted your hair as you stood atop a mountain. It was not long after that that his own curiosity got the best of him and he discovered that they were much the same, if not entirely different. Where his gift had always threatened to consume him, it seemed she had complete control of her own. Over time, and his own endearing persistence, she accepted him as an acquaintance if not a friend. 

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Introducing , Nissa Vidale, the forty-two year old owner of The Bleeding Rose . The other looks remarkably like Thandie Newton. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“I shall continue to exist. I may assume other disguises, other forms, but I shall try to exist.”

The History of Nissa Vidale:

You could say a great deal about the gods that ruled over this earth, but you could not accuse them of lacking in a sense of humour -however twisted that humour was.

Nissa Vidale was the daughter of a minor lord in Vasile, and while her parent’s low standing status may have been cause to laugh enough, it was their high regard of their own common nobility which proved the greater joke. Every coin they had, every resource and effort, went towards the staging of their proudest production, a fable formed out of poor taste and escalating illusions of grandeur. Though, from the spectators seats, the performance could be called remarkable. A lord and his lady, spectacular in their shared beauty. Nissa would be the only giveaway. 

She was not blessed with the shared beauty of her parents, nor was she cut from the same elegant fabric. The girl who had begun as an unsightly child soon grew into a gangly adolescent. Skinny and awkward in her every movement, more uncomfortable among her own family than she could ever manage to be in her own skin. 

The young lady should have known that the gods had not finished with her yet. There was a greater irony to behold and it was on the first eve of her sixteenth year that she would realize it. After standing a long few hours before the mirror in her chamber, heavy and expensive fabrics clinging awkwardly to her young frame, some burst of courage had sent her out into the halls. And there, before the oaken doors to the great hall, she felt something wash over her, like a warm bathe it encased her. Suddenly it seemed that the whole world has shifted on its axis, and where once she had been regarded in the strangest manner, she found herself embraced most enthusiastically by her guests, and her parents. 

It was only as she made her way back into her rooms, to find herself once more before that daunting mirror, that she saw it. Like a glossy and golden film surrounding her, that same beauty that embodied her parents. Catching only the briefest glimpse of it as it faded away, leaving her cold once more. 

It became a part of her routine, that she would stand before that mirror and urge that same warmth to wash over her again. Watching each day as she was washed away and replaced by a spectacular vision. As time went on, and her practice with her gift improved, she realized that the girl who had stood before her was no figment of her own imagination, but a glamour pulled from the deepest depths of the mind’s of others. Like a mirror it was no more than a reflection, depicting in perfect detail their deepest desires. But as time went on that marvellous gift became her burden, no longer could she so easily wear the face that was her own. When she woke and turned to that mirror again she did not gaze upon it until she felt that familiar warmth flooding her.

It was not long after that first eve that she found herself wed, married to the first man handsome and rich enough for her parent’s approval. Sonnets could have been written composed of the kind words he spoke to her, and within no time at all, she found herself in love. But every great play must eventually draw that final curtain, and cast it’s actors back onto the street to exist as unremarkably as they had before. That time came one morning, when she woke to the sound of her young husbands voice, calling out her name in a panic from beside her as a supposed stranger lay beside him. 

And Nissa Vidale fled, to disappear was all too easy when she could -at least for a moment- be anyone. She did not know for how long she kept running, stopping only long enough to catch her breath in one city before moving onto the next. She did not know why she had, looking back now, whether it had been fear of showing her true self to the world, or that of once more being forced to face herself. 

Eventually she found herself in the brothel, sitting for hours as she watched the women leave with one man with the face of an innocent, only to approach the next wearing the disguise of a harlot. Those hours turned into days, and then weeks, loitering within the walls of the tavern. Eventually she found herself one among them, before purchasing the tavern for herself. There she would never again be forced to wear the face of her former self, nor would she ever long for a more vast array of desires to choose from.

Now, with her old life behind her Nissa finds great comfort in her abilities and the life that they have granted her. The Bleeding Rose has gained for itself great recognition as the place where men go to pursue their greatest desires, and it is Nissa Vidale who delivers them. 

About Nissa Vidale:

Strong, Articulate,  Clear-Headed

Contradictory, Droll, Unceremonious

Relationships:

Danya Osyrus: Danya was a great deal like all of the woman who called the Bleeding Rose their home, but she differed greatly in her success. Even without the abilities that Nissa possessed, there was no man that she could not sway, no secret she could not uncover. And though Nissa took great pride in her bond with each of her girls, it was Danya alone she could truly call friend. 

Garrick Howard: The young knight was a most frequent patron of the tavern, and yet his reputation had somehow yet to turn sour among the girls. It was one day, hours before daybreak, as she had made her way blindly through the familiar halls that she had stumbled upon him. Realizing in that moment, as the pair had briefly collided, that that warmth to which she had grown so accustomed was nowhere to be found. She had thought the event would not cement itself in the man’s groggy mind, but from time to time she hears him ask after the woman he’s encountered in the hall. 

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Introducing , Cade Belfleur, the forty one year old councilman and lord of Eldridge. The man looks remarkably like Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire.”

The History of Cade Belfleur:

Birth was not as beautiful a phenomena as it was made out to be, so long as the gods who ruled the earth continued to demand their price for it. In the case of Cade Belfleur the price paid for his journey into their world would be the life of his father. He would be the first and only child of the lord and lady of Eldridge, and his father, a man many years senior to his wife, would never know him. 

As a child Cade had invented so many ways to know the man from who he had come, first it had been his mother’s stories. Recounted in that way that one could only speak of the dead, with that same nostalgia and romanticism, but Cade had been too young and too desperate to ever account for that. It was a gift really, to only know his father through the tales of his heroism, the man would be immortalized in the worship of his son. 

The older Cade grew the more inventive his methods became, he would walk where his father would walk, and fight with the same battalion his father had once led. Freshly returned from the king’s army and newly knighted there was but one thing of his father’s he was lacking, a seat on the king’s council. So, the young knight, having been the sole lord of Aestera since even before his birth, did everything he could to charm his way into the castle. Eventually gaining his position as the king’s second most senior advisor. It was there that he would surpass his father. When the King hung dead from the towers of Aldera Cade knew what would come next. He would be the head of the king’s council, and do all of the things his father had not. 

The news came as an arrow to the chest, or a knife to the spine, when Adrian chose Arthur Blackwood over himself. He was a man with half of the experience, and none of the drive that Cade himself possessed. And it was then, every dream he had ever had dashed, that Cade looked back on his life. Now a man past his prime,he realized those things that he had missed, and had not even the position to show for it. Only a lord, with no wife or heir, spite took hold of his heart and worked it’s way through his veins like a snakes venom. Turning the blood black as it began the job of devouring every inch of him. 

Now, the loyalty which he had once pledged to his king was dead, and Cade’s lifelong mission to honour his father was but a ghost. Finally the lord of Aestera desired something for himself alone, the title and recognition which he had thought was guaranteed. 

About Cade Belfleur:

Charming, Intelligent, Commanding .

Forceful, Deceitful, Envious.

Relationships:

Christian Lazul: Cade had seen it in the young king’s eyes the moment he had set sight on him, a charmed and eloquent facade for the hunger which hid within. It was not long after the man’s arrival that Cade found himself party to frequent meetings in shadowy locales alongside Christian Lazul. Where Adrian was ruled by boyish whims and uncertainty, Christian was governed by reason. But Cade had no intention of being the victim of a king’s will again, and when the stakes where so much higher than the position he had lost, he would do whatever it took to keep his head.

Vivian Olwen:  Arriving in Aldera was not his first encounter with the lady of Arkala and to see her once more brought visions of a future foregone to his mind. Time had changed them both into creatures more alike than different, and though he knew the dangers of pursuing a woman with ambitions that outweighed even his own, he could not keep himself from chasing after that phantom of another life.

Arthur Blackwood: If there was one thing stronger than his disdain for the new king, it was his envy towards the man who had become his advisor. Though Cade performs the part of dutiful lord so well within the confines of the council room, it is when he leaves that visions of the man relieved of his head alongside his inept king begin to play in his mind. 

Henry Tremayne: Cade was perhaps the only man in the castle with knowledge of the kings brief affair with his mother, and following word of the boys visits to a physician he found his suspicions confirmed. While he does not consider the bastard lord any more suited to the crown than his brother, he has no problem with using him to see his will done.

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Introducing , Roman Tremayne, the twenty-six lord of Orwall. The man looks remarkably like Bradley James. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“There are days that must happen to you.”

The History of Roman Tremayne:

As a child Roman had found himself often dreaming that someday someone might come and tell him that he was in the wrong place, with the wrong people, and sweep him away to a home more suited. But as time went on whatever childish resistance that had breathed life into those dreams faded away. He had been broken down, and found himself so often braced with the sudden realization that he had found himself in a strange place, with people he could not trust. 

At the top of that list of individuals were his parents, whose own ambition poured from their pores and poisoned everyone it touched. Roman was too far from immune to that venom, in every moment he was to do better, be better. And slowly but surely it became nearly impossible to resist. One who had been pulled under by a violent current would recognize the man’s desperation well, after swimming for so long against a foe you could not fight, it became so much easier to just give in. 

At first the directions in which they pulled him had been bearable, if not in some cases enjoyable. They had started with the balls and celebrations, where they paraded the boy through the Wallachian courts like a prize, and so many nobles believed it. He could have wed nearly any woman in the country before the age of seventeen, become the head of a higher -and far richer- lordship, but that had not been enough. While Roman would have been contented with any of the offers made, his parents had their eyes on something greater. The crown

It seemed his parents had not been the first Tremayne’s to hunger for such things, some time before any of them were born they had earned their reputation as a power hungry and treacherous house. The king, wisely, refused their offer. But they would not be discouraged, and soon Roman found himself knighted, sporting the banner of his house, and entered into every contest that the capital could put on. It was only after his parents were refused Almera’s hand once more that Roman noticed the numbers of the Tremayne forces quietly growing. He should have put a stop to it then, he wished now that he had. Perhaps he could have run away, or run off with some nobleman’s daughter. But he did not, and the day came where he found himself among the masses of soldiers tearing through the castle. When the sun rose that morning his country was without king or queen. 

Now, with the princess Almera in tow his family has headed to Eros with plans to gain support for their crown. And though he has tried at every opportunity to show kindness to the poor girl he calls his betrothed, he knows he cannot do the one thing that would win her over. No matter how much his heart might call for it, he cannot go against the banner whose colours he sports, and put an end to his parent’s treason.

About Roman Tremayne:

Ardent, Gentle, Humble.

Uncertain, Feeble, Harrowed

Relationships:

Almera Lancaster: the relationship he had with Almera was in no way the kind he had envisioned for himself with his future wife, and though he had tried in every way he knew to show the girl he did not share his parent’s vision for their future it was a rather difficult task when the guards stationed outside of every room she entered wore the same colours as himself.

Henry Tremayne: Henry was in every way the kind of man he imagined to share his name, more like his parents and the Tremayne’s that came before them for Roman’s comfort. Still, he knew that if he wished to make it out of this with his head he would need allies. And who better than a man who feasted as hungrily after a crown than his parents to fill that role?

Danya Osyrus: It was in many ways quite tragic that the man had found his only confidant in someone who would charge him by the evening, but there was no one he could trust more with his secrets than Danya. Overtime his visits to satisfy his own needs had turned into something else, an odd and highly forbidden friendship with the lady of the night.

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Allard Williams, the twenty four year old blacksmith. The man looks remarkably like Kit Harington. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty..”

The History of Allard Williams:

Allard Williams had never possessed the imagination to consider himself as anything more than the son of a blacksmith. As far back as he could remember, he had been happy with that fate. But that did not mean that there were no wounds on his heart, nor questions on his mind, and as he grew older their numbers seemed only to multiply. 

At some point as a young boy he must have asked, though he could not recall the encounter entirely, why it was he lived without his mother and his father without a wife. Though he could not remember the first recounting of the story, he still remembered it well. She had been a young and beautiful woman, to whom his father had been attracted out of pure curiosity. But their brief affair had lasted only a few nights, and nine months later she had delivered him Allard. His father had not dared ask any questions, and though at times it was hard for Allard to imagine to hard and stoic man he called father in such a condition, he told the young boy of the immediate love he had felt for his child. 

Even without a life of riches, luxury and without a mother, there had been little Allard Williams felt he’d missed out on. It was not until much later in his life, and with good reason, that he began to feel the pull to find his mother -wherever she was. As the years went on, and the boy grew older, the strange occurrences which seemed to always occur in his presence became undeniable. At first they were little more than a gift for the forge, but soon came the dreams and visions, images which would flash through his mind only to reveal themselves later on as clues to the future. 

It was around that same time that his father fell ill, and not wanting to cause the man any kind of stress Allard kept the increasingly regular oddities to himself. Some days, when his aunt or uncle were there to look after the ailing man, he would make the journey out of the city. No matter which way he went, or how unfamiliar the path before him was, he always found himself somewhere in nature. It was there, in the meadows and by the lakes surrounding Aldera, that the young man began to practice the odd abilities bestowed upon him, with no other goal than to gain some control over when and where they might reappear. He had been waiting, until perhaps he had mastered them well enough that they would not cause his father to worry before revealing them, but he could not learn fast enough. Before the boy’s fifteenth year he found himself an orphan. 

Luckily his aunt and uncle were never too far away, having begged him countless times to come and stay with them, but no matter how much he hated the haunted state of the home he has shared with his father, he could not bring himself to leave. For a time he might have considered some other profession, some future which would bring him from the crowded city he has always found so small, but instead he took over his father’s forge and began his life as a blacksmith. He abandoned those frequent trips out of the city, and did his best to make himself as ordinary as any other man. 

Now, although there is some part of Allard that feels the faint call to another life he has done his best to put those whims behind him. Doing all that he could to convince himself that he was content in his father’s house and playing the part of the blacksmith’s son. 

About Allard Williams:

Empathetic, Good-Natured, Determined

Naive, Gullible, Soft.

Relationships:

Faye Hadlee: Upon first seeing her Allard felt that familiar pang of deja vu, at some point he knew he had seen her somewhere in his visions. When exactly or why she had appeared he did not know, but every time he tried to approach her she found a way to disappear. It was like reaching for the mist, reaching for the answer to some unknown question, only to have both her and the answer slip through his fingertips. 

Kara Everly: Kara Everly was the first of many new frequent guests to the forgery, she was also the least mysterious of his new visitors. Over the past few weeks he had spent a great deal of time with the young woman, and the longer he spent with her the more in common they seemed to have. 

Serena Farrow: Of the people who had come to the forgery, Serena was by far the strangest. From the moment he had first met her some part of him had known that she was not entirely human, but he did not mind that much. She had been the one to lead him back out of the city and towards a meadow he had once frequented. And yet, no matter how honest he was with her, it seemed nearly impossible to learn much more than her name. 

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Arthur Blackwood, the thirty-three year old advisor to the King. The man looks remarkably like Michiel Huisman. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“I barely noticed loneliness anymore; it was my normal condition, by necessity if not by nature.”

The History of Arthur Blackwood:

The definition of a child was to be a free and curious creature, full of life and a taste for adventure, but the definition of a Blackwood was something entirely different. The Blackwoods were one of the oldest families of Eros, but unlike the other wealthy families of the land, their ambitions had always laid somewhere other than with a crown. Power was not a commodity belonging only to title and name, but influence, and with their sprawling lands and massive wealth, influence was something they had always had more than their fair share of. And so, young Arthur Blackwood was a soul divided and defined by two very different titles. In the eyes of many he was but a boy, but to his parents he was much more.

Arthur’s memories of time spent playing alongside his peers were few and faded, but those of the countless days spent in lessons remained vivid nearly thirty years later. Days spent in the sun had never stood a chance in shaping the young lord, had never stood a chance when up against the teachings of his family. Whether it was his lineage or those countless lessons which had sculpted him was unclear, but one thing was certain, there may have been a time where he had possessed the youthful glow of a boy, but his eyes had always been much wiser, much more restrained.

Life was fair living as a Blackwood, they did not believe in the great extravagance their wealth allowed them, but their estate was still sprawling and comfortable. They cautioned against the whims and reveries of man, and steered clear from any kind of danger. Life was fair, and in the many years devoid of colour, it was safe. And it might have gone on that way for Arthur until his dying breath, he would not have had any complaints if it did, but as the paths of young men often are, his had been defined by a girl. A girl who made things more than just fair and grey.

He met Grace Venois entirely by chance, sent on an errand by the lord who he worked under. Which set into motion a series of events which would lead him passing by an alleyway, where he would watch as two men approached a young woman from behind. As they neared the cloaked woman, and the sound of their voices reached his ears, it was not his name which would define him, but the heart of a child. His intervention sent the two men limping back off into the night, and set his sights on the girl before him.

It was mere weeks before the pair had eloped, both fighting the forces which tried to pull them apart and back home. Grace against her sister and coven, Arthur against his family. But regardless of the conflict that their union inspired, life was wonderful, and no problem seemed strong enough to separate them. It was only two years later that they realized the naïveté of that belief. After years of trying to conceive, Grace found herself -finally- with a child. It was only a month before the newest addition to the Blackwood family was expected that Grace fell ill, and without the protection of her sisters in the Redlands, perished.

But there was one shining light in it all, his daughter, pulled from her mother’s womb, had survived. Consumed by his grief, and knowing the ways of the women of the red water, he wrote to Grace’s sister that both mother and child had been taken by the disease and went to great lengths to conceal his newborn daughter, Amelia, from those who would surely take her from him.

With his wife now dead, there was nothing left to sustain the man apart from his work and young child. So, he threw himself into the world of court, passing Amelia off as his ward. It was not long before Lord Blackwood’s studies and wisdom paid off, earning himself a high place on the king’s council and befriending the crown prince Adrian.

With the death of the King still fresh -much to the surprise of everyone at court- the Prince passed over his father’s second most senior advisor, Cade Belfleur, and appointed the young lord Blackwood as his advisor . New to his role, and with secrets of his own to keep, Arthur must be more careful than ever to tread carefully through the castle’s halls.

About Arthur Blackwood:

Insightful, Practiced, Canny.

Quiet, Mysterious, Hardened.

Relationships:

Marie Venois: It was immediate upon her arrival at court that Arthur realized who exactly the council’s latest member was and his caution regarding Amelia grew. He knew how she had looked upon Grace’s departure from the Redlands, and knew that would likely extend to his daughter if she ever discovered Amelia. He had done his best thus far to avoid the woman at all costs, but knew that he could only continue on that way for so long without jeopardizing the King’s welfare. 

Adrian Kadare: Arthur had been most surprised by his appointment following the king’s death, but he had rarely let onto that fact in the new king’s presence. And by some godly grace he had managed thus far to exceed even his own expectations, granted his effort was not out of anything as noble as loyalty to the king. Arthur was a man with little personal ambition, a rarity at court, but thus far his unique perspective had only served him well with Adrian.

Adeline DeLoraine: It had been many years since he had last set sights on the orphan girl at some gathering of their parents, but he recognized her immediately as the adopted child of the Lord and Lady of the Briar Glen. He was not the only one to know her by that title, but it did seem he was the only one aware of her unconventional way of joining the family. He cannot help but wonder why exactly her parents sought to keep the secret of her origins a hidden one.

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Vivian Olwen, the forty year old lady of Arkala. The woman looks remarkably like Lena Headey. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“Do not mock a pain that you have never endured.”

The History of Vivian Olwen:

The eldest Olwen child learned early on the curse of womanhood, the curse of something as simple as her own birth, and what she bore between her legs. Two years should have been all the advantage she needed in the world, to secure that which was hers, that which someday she would grow to covet more than any gown or jewel. But succession was not as simple as that in the world to which she was born, and from the moment her mother bore her brother, that title which might have been hers in another life would become the one thing she ran towards.

Vivian was smarter than her peers, smarter even than many of the adults who surrounded her, and though this would prove her greatest gift it was also her heaviest burden. She was not simple enough to accept the many consolation prizes offered to her, and never did very well at concealing her contempt for her brother’s claim. And so the years would pass, and all the things she might have had had her focus not been devoted entirely to her plot to unseat her brother. Engagements were planned only to be called off, love’s that only knew the briefest taste of life before being blown out, and before she knew it, she had found herself well into her thirties. And with little far too little to show for it. Meanwhile her brother lived his happy life, by the side of his wife and daughter.

Of course Vivian was the first to notice that the young lady Arya had vanished, and with her plan in mind she quickly brought the news to her brother, only to be surprised when a kitchen maid’s child turned up in a lady’s costume days later. And while Vivian would have done nearly anything for the title she saw as her own, she did not think herself as cruel as to get rid of the girl, nor stupid enough to risk revealing herself. Knowing somehow that her time would come again, she waited.

And as she watched her brother’s wife grow ill and fade away, she knew her time had come once more. There had been tales of couples, so truly in love that they could not stay in one world long without the other, and she knew it was precisely the kind of story the masses would devour. The rest was all too easy. And soon there was only the kitchen maid between her and her title. But her ambition had exceeded it’s initial grandeur, and there was now more than a ladyship on her mind.

And so she has arrived at the Alderan court, an imposter in tow, with her sights set on something more than that which was hers at birth. Power. The kind she could easily come by when the young Arya took her place beside the newly coronated king.

About Vivian Olwen:

Crafty, Intelligent, Diplomatic.

Dishonourable, Vengeful, Selfish.

Relationships:

Jonah Albright: Vivian tried to, at the very least, play the part of a trusting woman. But even after all of her years dealing with the fae, she could not bring herself to do so. There was something about him, a chaotic uncertainty, that always left her on edge. For her the future was a perfectly constructed map, whereas it seemed Jonah envisioned something more abstract.

Cade Belfleur: Arriving in Aldera was not her first encounter with the lord, there was a time -however vague in her memory- when she remembered days spent envisioning some future path other than the one she so desired, and all those childish plans had somehow included him. But time had changed him, just as it had her, and the boy she once knew was replaced with a man scorned by the crown. A man who, like herself, was starving for something that should have been his.  

Arya Olwen: Vivian had never much cared for her niece, perhaps it was the girl’s innate complacency, or the fact she was a walking reminder of the life Vivian might have lead. Then again, the Arya who accompanied her now wasn’t really her niece at all. Some part of her had grown to understand what drove her brother to keep up the charade far longer than necessary the longer she had spent with the girl, but that tiny fraction of her being was no match for her own ambition.

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Almera Lancaster, the twenty-two year old Princess of Wallachia. The woman looks remarkably like Sarah Gadon. Unfortunately this character is TAKEN.

“ There are things you can’t get anywhere, but we dream they can be found in other people. .”

The History of Almera Lancaster:

The fate of the young Almera had been set and changed more times than one could count. At her birth, her path had resembled those of countless other noble girls -granted it would be slightly more luxurious along the way, but still- she would someday be married off to some man or another. Like coin, swords and exports, Almera was a commodity,and she was one with great value. But commodities had no say in how they were traded, and at the time she had little chance to consider the injustice of that fact, because eight years into her charmed life everything changed. Her older brother, her senior by a dozen years, returned home from battle in a box, and buried alongside him was the fate she had grown so used to. The world around her shifted, her lessons changed from topics of music and needlepoint to those of strategy, the expectation of her to remain seen and unheard vanished. At every chance, the court she had grown up in surprised her, at every turn it sought to both challenge and adore her.

The transition from meager second child and daughter to heir was a rapid one, but never worrisome. After all, she would have countless years to change herself, mold herself into the shape and size of a queen, at least she was meant to. But with her country in peril, and at war, things that were meant to happen often never did, and fate was ever changing. Her fate was set to hang in the balance while that of her parents’ was decided, they too would join her brother in the ground.

The news of her parents’ deaths were not one delivered to her delicately, but instead conveyed as the sound of footfall erupted in the castle. The sound of sword meeting sword ringing through the expansive halls. Hours after being barricaded as the sound of fighting was replaced by that of celebration,she dared open her door, to find two new guards -wearing the colours of another house- stationed there. Green and silver emblazoned on their arms, the same colours of the southern house who they had been at war with for years, the house of Tremayne. And a few facts became certain to the girl, facts which regardless of her meager fourteen years were obvious: her parents were dead, and she was a prisoner.

For weeks, she existed almost entirely within her rooms, locked away and under guard, uncertain of why they had not executed her yet. But as days turned into weeks it became clear, they had no intention of killing her, they needed her. And as time went on and she was gradually granted the ability to wander through the castle, the Tremayne’s intentions became obvious. There he was at every turn, Roman, the first of the Tremayne’s sons, and who she assumed they intended for the throne.

If the boy hadn’t been wearing the emblem of his family, or if she had been a more naive creature, she might have even fallen for his charm, might have been fooled by his kindness. But regardless of her hatred for Roman and his family, she knew the importance of playing along. She was beloved by the Wallachian people, but that love would only grant her so much protection if she outlived her usefulness. So as time went on, and more and more freedom was awarded her, she continued on with the charade, playing the part of obliging princess which kept her alive. It was not long before the pair was betrothed. The few friends she had left in the court did their best to delay any kind of marriage.

Now, with the news of the Erosian King’s death, both she and Roman have been sent to Aldera,and regardless of the Tremayne family’s strong ties there, Almera has seen her opportunity. Away from the constant watch of the entire court, it is in Aldera that she must venture to find alliance, desperate to see her parents’  killers dispelled from her court, there is little the young princess will not do.

About Almera Lancaster:

Noble, Good, Beloved.

Harsh, Brazen, Calculating.

Relationships:

Roman Tremayne: It was odd that the lord could be both the face of her captor and someone she saw so many similarities in. Knowing that he too was in many ways a prisoner of his parents will had in some ways softened her to him, but not by much. Regardless of her desire to help the man she knew that the only way of doing that would be by sacrificing not only herself, but her parent’s legacy. She does not look forward to the day that she see’s herself freed from her jailers and he suffers the consequence, but it will not stop her. 

Henry Tremayne: A close cousin to her captives she had been more than simply wary of the lord, at times being remarkably spiteful towards him. But it did not take an expert to come to the conclusion that his alliance to Roman was more an act of manipulation than actual loyalty. Almera knows that should the time come that she had something to offer him, she would have a real chance of ridding herself and her kingdom of the plague that was the Tremayne family.

Serena Farrow: Transported into the unfamiliar territory of Eros Almera had expected alliances and friendships would be hard things to come by. But she soon found herself surprised by the Erosian lady’s warm welcome. Serena had been nothing but kind to the young princess, and more than that, upon discovering her circumstance she had promised her her aid. Almera should have been more hesitant to take the blonde at her word, but found it hard to find any trace of deceit within the immortals eyes as she made her promise.

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Faye Hadlee, the twenty-four year old woman of the red water. The witch looks remarkable like Meghan Ory. Fortunately this character is OPEN.

“Nature never hurries. Atom by atom, little by little she achieves her work.”

The History of Faye Hadlee:

As witches went, Faye Hadlee has always been quite odd. From the time that words found their way into her round pink mouth, there had never been a question too strange to ask, nor a truth too daring to be spoken. However odd her outspoken personality made her, it was also for this reason she found herself to be so widely adored.

At the time of her birth, Faye Hadlee had been one of the only babes living in the coven, she remembered asking her mother the reason for that so many times before and the woman always replied with the same kind words. That Faye had been so remarkable, so lively, even as an infant, that the witches had dedicated the whole of their hearts to her. She was much older when she realized the real reason she was so lacking in playmates and peers. The women of the red water had always born their daughters as they did everything else, together, and as such a year of a dozen births would often be followed by five without. Knowing this Faye had found herself with another strange question, the question of why she had been born at all.

Though no one ever answered her, over time she uncovered the truth for herself, that her mother had not always been the wise and wistful woman she knew. That at a time, she had shared the same spirit that now lived within Faye, and Faye had been quite the surprise -though she was never any less loved for it. She found herself wondering however, often and in silent, where it was the woman she had heard such tales about had gone. Even with her most expert gaze fastened on her mother, she could find no trace of anything strange of wild within her.

With no children her age on the Red Water, the young girl had no one to compare herself to, and so she had always considered herself to be rather ordinary in skill. It was not until Clara Folton took her under her wing that she soon realized her affinity for healing.

But Faye would not continue on forever alone, watching as the children years younger than her played and practiced together. It was on her thirteenth birthday that she found her wishes answered, a young girl arrived at the side of Marie Venois, with only the name Kara to identify her. With a child her own age finally among them, Faye quickly dedicated her every effort to befriending the girl, and after a somewhat rough beginning, she found her efforts fruitful -though it was not as though either of them had many other options.

The young witch had thought her life might continue on in that same way forever, that her life would be as carefree and simple as her childhood. While her days remained a place for adventure and freedom, the same could not be said for her nights. Each night she hoped that she might once more slip into a dreamless sleep, only to be met by scenes from another life, strange and unnerving. Even she, the girl whose thoughts reached her mouth before her mind, knew that there were certain things she had ought to hide. Her visions of an unknown yet familiar boy became her only secret.

She remembered how those dreams eventually slipped into her waking day. How every so often she would found herself facing a doorway other than her own, or conversing easily with a stranger - unable to react or change a thing, forced only to watch. It was during one of those waking dreams that everything changed, one moment she had been sitting alongside Kara, and the next time she found herself in her own body she was sprawled out in the infirmary, surrounded by the members of her coven.

The next few days- or weeks- she had spent drifting in and out of conciousness, welcomed only by darkness when she sunk back into the bed. Every so often she would hear the voices of Marie and her mother, arguing back and forth, but she could never remain awake long enough to make out their words.

When she woke, she found the world was quite different. Each morning she drank the tea Clara had designed for her, and the visions disappeared. But they were not the only thing to have gone. Her mother, whose presence she had felt at her side even in the deepest of sleep, had fled the Red Water. And no matter how many questions she asked, she was never given any answers. Her only instruction had come directly from Marie, to always drink her tea and to never attempt contact with her mother again.

Now Faye Hadlee finds herself in Aldera under the guise of an apprenticeship with Clara, but Faye has more on her mind than that. In the city she hopes to finally find answers to her never ending questions, at the forefront of which were two that she did not dare ask, where did her mother go? And why?

About Faye Hadlee:

Healing, Tender, Outspoken.

Unworldly, Credulous, Bullish.

Relationships:

Kara Everly: To Faye Kara had been a gift from the gods, and regardless of their many differences she could not help but to adore the girl by whom she had spent her childhood. She knows that Kara’s time before arriving in the Redland’s had left the girl with many scars, and though they were not as easily healed as the wounds that Faye so often worked with, she could not keep herself from trying.

Allard Black: It was never Faye’s intent to spy on her friend, but when she had seen the girl walking through the city streets she could not help but follow. At the end of Kara’s path she had seen the young blacksmith, who seemed in that moment all too familliar. 

Clara Folton: The older witch had proven herself a better mentor than Faye could have thought to ask for, and a constant source of support in the time following her mother’s disappearance. She had sense Clara’s unease upon their arrival in Aldera, and though she does not yet know it’s cause, wishes nothing more than to show her the same care.  

[threekingswarrp]

Introducing , Sawyer Ignita, the twenty-nine year old captain in the King’s guard. The other looks remarkably like Tabrett Bethell. Unfortunately this character is OPEN.

“I am aware that I am less than some people prefer me to be, but most people are unaware that I am so much more than what they see.”

The History of Sawyer Ignita:

( CW: abuse, domestic abuse. )

Sawyer Ignita entered the world in the very same way she suspected she would leave it, alone. Abandoned on the steps of a small orphanage, the wailing infant, whose face was still marked with the blood of her violent entry into the world, would spend the first hours of her life there. Her cries carrying through the deserted streets of the small town.

Of course Sawyer had no memory of that first night alone on the stone steps of that house, but she carried that evening with her regardless, an unnamed and unknown phantom haunting her for as long as she had known. She was not a social child, and though the women working within the orphanage did their best to attend to every child, with the number of children within the old church’s confines, those who could do for themselves what others couldn’t fell through the cracks. She may have been an orphan like every other child living in the sanctuary, but that was where their similarities began and ended.

Perhaps some part of her wished to run alongside the other children, to play, to be apart of the makeshift family which had been built, there was a much bigger part of her that cautioned her to keep a distance. It was not until she had reached nearly a decade in age that she realized why. One of the women working at the orphanage returned newly married. Sawyer -having heard and read all kinds of tales of love and marriage- expected to see a bright glow surrounding the newlywed, but instead she was met with a weak and ghastly looking woman. Her skin had paled significantly, and where the flesh did not resemble that of a corpse, black and blue marks marred her skin.

If Sawyer had been smart, or nearly as happy alone as she considered herself to be, she would not have ventured upstairs to see the woman with her dress ripped and hanging from her shoulders, and the foul smelling man standing above her - a slew of curses leaving his lips. Wasting no time she had dashed forward, her petite frame no match for him as he batted her away. The next few moments passed in a blur, her catching his hand, him falling to the ground, dead.

Word spread quickly through the small village of the girl with the deadly touch, and the child -who had only acted on her desire to be apart of something- found herself more alienated than ever before. What had once been her choice became an unspoken law between the villagers to always maintain a distance, but it did not stop them from talking or staring in that way that turned her vision red.

But Sawyer would not be alone forever, soon the orphanage welcomed a new addition, a young girl only a year younger than herself. A child who was not fearful of the girl with the reaper’s touch, and before Sawyer knew it, she was not alone any longer. Kora Baker, the angel who would soon accompany her everywhere that she went. Killer and angel, side by side in every instance, if one did not know any better they would consider the pair sisters, just as they did.

Kora soon made a name for herself, somehow even smaller than Sawyer, she never failed to serve as her protector. Far more outgoing than Sawyer, it was not long before she was dragging her along to engage in all those activities she had kept herself from. But disaster so often Sawyer, in fact she might consider herself lucky she had made it so long alongside Kora without another incident.The other children were no longer happy with Sawyer’s presence among them, and Kora would pay the price for that. A push was all it had taken, sending the girl tumbling over the side of a bridge where she landed in a river far too shallow. The violent crack had been enough to send the birds flying.

Sawyer rushed to the side of her friend, her tears streaming down her cheeks as freely as the river flowed as Kora lay unconscious in the adolescent’s arms. She did not know how long she sat there like that, water soaking every inch of her frame, but she was pulled from her timeless sorrow by the sound of a familiar voice uttering her name. Her joy lasted only as long as her attention remained on her friend’s face. Looking past her she saw something which would change the course of her life entirely. Floating in the water passed them were dozens -if not hundreds- of fish, as lifeless as her friend had been moments before.

She did not remain at the orphanage much longer, Kora having been swept away so suddenly by an affluent family, she found she was no longer as content as she had been alone. It was then that she met Jonah Albright, the man who would introduce her to her second family, the king’s guard.

The owner of the Burrows had more connections than she could fathom, and it was not long after he took her in that she had found her way into the ranks of soldiers. But she could not conceal her secrets there for long, almost unbeatable in battle, her superiors soon took notice. And the rumours of the girl with death’s touch spread again. She was no older than seventeen when she was formally recruited onto the team tasked with protecting the royal family at all costs, the one person able to both defend against threats of violence and injury.

About Sawyer Ignita:

Brave, Skilled, Loyal.

Hardened, Untrusting, Secretive.

Relationships:

Adeline DeLoraine: Though the lady might have worn much more extravagant garments and the disguise of a different name, in every other way she had not changed since the time that she had known her as Kora Baker. At first Sawyer had worried that Adeline would not feel the same way when met by herself in the king’s guard uniform, but it seemed those worries were unfounded. As children she had hailed her as an angel for her lack of fear, but as she watches the young woman roaming the halls of the castle with her Viktor at her side she cannot help but wonder if the woman’s gentle nature will endanger her in a way not even Sawyer can protect her from. 

Jonah Albright: The owner of the Burrows was only the second soul she had encountered who did not cower in fear with the discovery of her abilities. More than that, he had taken her in when she had found herself very much alone in the world. Sawyer knew her every loyalty was meant to lay with the crown, but could not help but worry that if the time came her decision would be made more difficult but her old friend.  

Silas Adley: Before her time in the king’s guard Sawyer had known the arena within the Burrows very well, and during that time she had met Silas. He was as good a man as any to be caught within the Burrows, but he was not without his demons. Monsters which might soon threaten the safety a certain princess with whom’s protection she had been charged.