IvoryValentine
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 10, 2012
- Posts
- 450
As most days were in the height of summer, Flotsam was hot and humid. The air felt heavy in the port city and there were few places to escape the never ending heat. Despite the discomfort, the city continued to mill about it’s business. Fishermen selling their wares as well as merchants and smugglers. Patrols of city guards marched this way and that, though Livia Green felt less and less like they were anything more than decoration. With every passing day there was a building tension amongst the politicians of Flotsam. Only two days ago, Livia had sat at her place on city council and questioned the decisions that Mayor Toede had been making regarding the growing number of Minotaur ships outside the city harbor. To Livia it was clear that they were on the edge of an invasion but Mayer Toede dismissed her notions with a flick of his wrist, saying that her feminine whims were getting the better of her, and when she became outraged he declared that her mother’s bloodline was prone to such mistrust in anyone not of their elven heritage. Livia’s expression changed from one of concern and outrage to the icy glare that her father had been famous for.
Livia’s father had been a knight of a dark order. He had been a knight of the skull who was well known within the order for his military tactics. He was not only smart but patient. Some had questioned his decision to take an elven maiden as his bride. There had been talk of it being a strategic move, not only to unnerve the elven community but to somehow make a connection with those known as dark elves: those the eleven nations had turned their backs on for sins such as murder, theft and for loving the wrong person. Livia’s mother, had been thought to have been kidnapped and forced into the union. This was far from the case. She had seen power that she simply could never find in any mate she could aspire to amongst the elves. Something about the high ranking knight of the skull excited her, filled her with passion that consumed her. His desire for her was equal. The couple made their home in Flotsam, where her family name held so weight despite her exile. She took a seat on the city council. They had a single child after many years of trying. She was their world and they groomed her to take her place amongst the high society of Flotsam, training her not only in educate but in the ways of politics. Livia would, some day, take her mother’s seat on council and some day she would make her bid for Mayor.
But the plans to see their beautiful daughter rise to power were cut short. During a festival in the courtyard at the opening to the harbor, all the socialists gathered to celebrate the eclipse of the three moons. Her father loathed the idea, not worshiping any of the three gods of magic that the heavenly bodies represented but her mother had talked him into going. They had to make an appearance at least. Livia had fallen ill with a cold and the couple decided to leave her in the care of their maid, Rickly, a dwarven woman with long red braids and breasts so large she could barely reach around them. During the celebration, there had been an attack. A group of Minotaur stormed out from under one of the docks and began to cut down the nobles of Flotsam as if they were simple braids of grass. Livia’s father had fought bravely, cutting down two of the beasts when one got passed him and the massive beasts blade slipped through Livia’s mother’s ribs like it was a hot knife through butter. Her father lost his concentration and he fell to an opponent's blade. About a quarter of the party died before the Minotaur raiding party was killed. Only just considered a young woman, Livia took her mother’s seat on council. That had been 20 years ago.
Today, Livia Green hid away from the heat and the prying eyes of the public in her family home in the middle of Flotsam. It was a tall, narrow stone structure. Lot sizes were small in the old city and her father refused not to have a view of the harbor, despite the distance. The third and fourth floors each had a balcony, but other than that, it was built like a fortress. There were many windows to let light in on all the floors but all were narrow slits placed a foot apart so that not even a child could slip through. The front door was actually two sets of doors. The first was made of heavy oak that swung out onto the street. The second was made of think hardened steel. It was heavy, nearly unbreakable and cost a fortune, for steel was a very valuable metal in the age of wars.
The main floor was where the kitchen, dining room and a few entertaining rooms as well as the tiny living quarters for the servants. On the second floor was her mother’s study and the room her father called “The smoking room”. Though her mother’s study was filled with books and plush furniture, her father’s was filled with trophies from his years of service. Skulls bleached to perfect white bone were displayed with an endless amount of weapons as well as treasure. It all had been awarded to him, despite his lack of interest in them at the time. In his later years, he seemed to appreciate them more, or rather he liked to used them as educational tools to teach his daughter the brutality of the world.
The third floor were Livia’s rooms as well as the guest rooms when she was growing up. When her parents passed, Livia took up residency in to fourth floor. She felt safer up there at night, as if an extra 20 feet would protect her from the world that had taken her family.
It was not uncommon for Livia to receive guests. She wined and dined many diplomats from all over the continent. Any saw her as more of a social pleasure than her counterparts of city council. Her elven manners pleased the aristocrats and her knowledge of warfare and stories of her father’s battles intrigued those with a more military background. So it was of no great surprise when she received a scroll that a family friend would be paying a visit for the next few days. It would be a welcome distraction from what was going on in the city, giving her a reason to remain in her home, away from the dangers that were now roaming the streets more regularly.
Livia had met Dallyn Ironstrike on more than one occasion through her youth. His father and hers had served together and Dallyn had walked in his father’s footsteps, joining the order of the thorn at a young age. He had ascended through the ranks and was now fairly high up in the order.
From in her study, Livia heard a sharp wrap at the door. “Enter.” she said firmly with authority, despite her sweet elven voice.
A gnome entered wearing a green waistcoat and red pants with blue leather boots. “My Lady, Sir Ironstrike has arrived.”
”Thank you Clod.” she answered and rolled the scroll she was holding , sliding back into it’s case.”I will be down in a moment.”
Livia walked over to a large mirror of polished silver and adjusted her long, wavy chestnut hair over her shoulder and brushed out a few wrinkles in her heavily embroidered skirt. Despite being older than Daylln, Livia looked a few years younger than him. Elves aged much slower than their human counterparts. She adjusted the front of her dress so that her cleavage sat nicely in view without hanging out like a common whore. She had the best of both of her parent’s lineages. Livia had her mother’s warm welcoming smile but her father’s cunning green eyes. Her mother’s elven face and hair, slender waist and slender hands and feet, and from her father’s human blood line she had the curved hips and larger round breasts that so many found desirable. Her ears only had a slight point which made many question if she was eleven at all or just an extremely beautiful human.
As she descended the long curved stone staircase, Livia slipped her hands into the sleeves of her dress. Despite the heat outside, the large stone house was almost cool. At the foot of the stairs stood a hooded figure, his back to her as he inspected a suit of dragon armor displayed in an alcove.
“Praise be the Queen, and her will to bring you to my door, weary traveler.” Livia said softly, knowing her guest would hear her greeting.
Livia’s father had been a knight of a dark order. He had been a knight of the skull who was well known within the order for his military tactics. He was not only smart but patient. Some had questioned his decision to take an elven maiden as his bride. There had been talk of it being a strategic move, not only to unnerve the elven community but to somehow make a connection with those known as dark elves: those the eleven nations had turned their backs on for sins such as murder, theft and for loving the wrong person. Livia’s mother, had been thought to have been kidnapped and forced into the union. This was far from the case. She had seen power that she simply could never find in any mate she could aspire to amongst the elves. Something about the high ranking knight of the skull excited her, filled her with passion that consumed her. His desire for her was equal. The couple made their home in Flotsam, where her family name held so weight despite her exile. She took a seat on the city council. They had a single child after many years of trying. She was their world and they groomed her to take her place amongst the high society of Flotsam, training her not only in educate but in the ways of politics. Livia would, some day, take her mother’s seat on council and some day she would make her bid for Mayor.
But the plans to see their beautiful daughter rise to power were cut short. During a festival in the courtyard at the opening to the harbor, all the socialists gathered to celebrate the eclipse of the three moons. Her father loathed the idea, not worshiping any of the three gods of magic that the heavenly bodies represented but her mother had talked him into going. They had to make an appearance at least. Livia had fallen ill with a cold and the couple decided to leave her in the care of their maid, Rickly, a dwarven woman with long red braids and breasts so large she could barely reach around them. During the celebration, there had been an attack. A group of Minotaur stormed out from under one of the docks and began to cut down the nobles of Flotsam as if they were simple braids of grass. Livia’s father had fought bravely, cutting down two of the beasts when one got passed him and the massive beasts blade slipped through Livia’s mother’s ribs like it was a hot knife through butter. Her father lost his concentration and he fell to an opponent's blade. About a quarter of the party died before the Minotaur raiding party was killed. Only just considered a young woman, Livia took her mother’s seat on council. That had been 20 years ago.
Today, Livia Green hid away from the heat and the prying eyes of the public in her family home in the middle of Flotsam. It was a tall, narrow stone structure. Lot sizes were small in the old city and her father refused not to have a view of the harbor, despite the distance. The third and fourth floors each had a balcony, but other than that, it was built like a fortress. There were many windows to let light in on all the floors but all were narrow slits placed a foot apart so that not even a child could slip through. The front door was actually two sets of doors. The first was made of heavy oak that swung out onto the street. The second was made of think hardened steel. It was heavy, nearly unbreakable and cost a fortune, for steel was a very valuable metal in the age of wars.
The main floor was where the kitchen, dining room and a few entertaining rooms as well as the tiny living quarters for the servants. On the second floor was her mother’s study and the room her father called “The smoking room”. Though her mother’s study was filled with books and plush furniture, her father’s was filled with trophies from his years of service. Skulls bleached to perfect white bone were displayed with an endless amount of weapons as well as treasure. It all had been awarded to him, despite his lack of interest in them at the time. In his later years, he seemed to appreciate them more, or rather he liked to used them as educational tools to teach his daughter the brutality of the world.
The third floor were Livia’s rooms as well as the guest rooms when she was growing up. When her parents passed, Livia took up residency in to fourth floor. She felt safer up there at night, as if an extra 20 feet would protect her from the world that had taken her family.
It was not uncommon for Livia to receive guests. She wined and dined many diplomats from all over the continent. Any saw her as more of a social pleasure than her counterparts of city council. Her elven manners pleased the aristocrats and her knowledge of warfare and stories of her father’s battles intrigued those with a more military background. So it was of no great surprise when she received a scroll that a family friend would be paying a visit for the next few days. It would be a welcome distraction from what was going on in the city, giving her a reason to remain in her home, away from the dangers that were now roaming the streets more regularly.
Livia had met Dallyn Ironstrike on more than one occasion through her youth. His father and hers had served together and Dallyn had walked in his father’s footsteps, joining the order of the thorn at a young age. He had ascended through the ranks and was now fairly high up in the order.
From in her study, Livia heard a sharp wrap at the door. “Enter.” she said firmly with authority, despite her sweet elven voice.
A gnome entered wearing a green waistcoat and red pants with blue leather boots. “My Lady, Sir Ironstrike has arrived.”
”Thank you Clod.” she answered and rolled the scroll she was holding , sliding back into it’s case.”I will be down in a moment.”
Livia walked over to a large mirror of polished silver and adjusted her long, wavy chestnut hair over her shoulder and brushed out a few wrinkles in her heavily embroidered skirt. Despite being older than Daylln, Livia looked a few years younger than him. Elves aged much slower than their human counterparts. She adjusted the front of her dress so that her cleavage sat nicely in view without hanging out like a common whore. She had the best of both of her parent’s lineages. Livia had her mother’s warm welcoming smile but her father’s cunning green eyes. Her mother’s elven face and hair, slender waist and slender hands and feet, and from her father’s human blood line she had the curved hips and larger round breasts that so many found desirable. Her ears only had a slight point which made many question if she was eleven at all or just an extremely beautiful human.
As she descended the long curved stone staircase, Livia slipped her hands into the sleeves of her dress. Despite the heat outside, the large stone house was almost cool. At the foot of the stairs stood a hooded figure, his back to her as he inspected a suit of dragon armor displayed in an alcove.
“Praise be the Queen, and her will to bring you to my door, weary traveler.” Livia said softly, knowing her guest would hear her greeting.
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