The Betrothed and her Guard OOC/Recruit

It's not like it sounds. It's more of a story geared toward the guard and her duties toward her princess she has sworn her life to protect. Maybe looking to 1 -3 more players, who would be willing to play two roles if it happens to escalate to that. Medieval setting, not a whole lot of sex (just wanted to post this here since there is more traffic, and sorry.) mostly story driven. Liberal use of imagination is a plus (think GRRM-esque).

The story takes place in the land of Breya'n. The signs of war have been scorched into the exterior of the land, the inland hearing about the war, but never seeing it. The Breya'ns were at war with the southern lands Mari.

Breya'n was full of lush forests, cities made up of the finest stones. Birds flew from the trees in the early spring morning, the first day since the war came to a halt. The husbands and sons of wives and mothers who still had their lives journeyed home to see their loved ones. The king had given the command to cease all attacks during the middle of the night. Riders were sent to every known host, and carrier pigeons were sent out to traveling caravans.

On behalf of King Getho, the fighting will cease at sunset of the of the High Moon. Those who continue to fight past this time will be rounded up and hung in the middle Karthin, the capital city.

The reason wasn't stated in the letter. King Getho had met with the dying queen of Mari in the darkest of night, with the finest magic his mage could produce. She was very old, much older than King Getho. Her face carried wrinkles of a thousand wars, this one would be her last.

"Have your son marry my daughter," she wheezed. Her frail figure cracked and wiggled in the fire pit. Her silver hair fell to her waist, her sunken eyes sparkled like the finest ruby, tan, wrinkled skin clinging to her bones. Even faced with death, she stood regal and unnerved in front of the much younger king. She watched him pace his chambers, in his heavy cloak, grey hair leaving small streaks in his beard.

He continued to pace, looking up at the flamed figure, opening his mouth, as if to say something, before pacing again. He stopped and turned to the fire.

"Why should I have my son marry your daughter?" He asked. She gave him a small, soft smile. A motherly smile.

"My youngest daughter, Shi-- Shirai'La, she is more beautiful than any princess you have tried to get your son to marry. She will bring him more sons than you can imagine, I assure you."

"How can you be so sure?" He whispered, stepping closer to the fire, ignoring the heat. "How do I know you aren't just try to plot a way to kill me, my son and my family, just so you can rule Breya'n?"

"King Getho, you take me for some sort of heathen. Must I remind you that you attacked Mari first--"

"My guard told me that you were planning to murder me!" He roared at the fire, raising his hand to strike it, before he realized what he was doing and embarrassingly put his arm down.

"Your guard is a bunch of low-life scum, my liege," the queen barked at him. "I am dying. Once the Festival of Roses happens, I shall be laid to rest. I am not strong enough, let alone able to try to take over your lands. You see how I am. I am no longer beautiful, no one will fight for me. Whomever told you I was panning to murder you must have a hidden agenda. The Mari people haven't attacked Breya'n for centuries."

The king stared at the old, dying hag-queen. He was silent for a while, before he started to pace again.

"My liege, the Dark Hour is almost to a close," the mage said in a monotone voice, her eyes black, her body covered in a blue aura.

"Your mage speaks the truth. If your son marries my daughter, you will have the Mari people in your service. I birthed no sons, only daughters, my entire 200 years. In my 200 years, only Shirai'La has lived long enough for me to see her betrothed. She will give you many grandsons, heirs both to Breya'n and Mari. If you call off this war, I will send her to you. I will send you gifts of gold, cloths , whores, gems and anything else you desire. I will send her across the Shivering Sea to your green lands and have you and your court judge her. Just know, she has the Mari spirit in her and she will not tolerate anything less than royalty from you or your lands."

With that, the old queen was gone. The mage let out a sigh, before crumbling to the fire in a heap of exhaustion. The king stared at the smoke of the dead fire, before turning his attention to the pink sky that filled the window.


--


The Queen of Mari carefully walked back to her chambers with the help her nurses, letting out groans as she sunk into her bed.

"Would you like your sleeping potion, m'lady?" The nurse with the flowing auburn hair asked. The queen shook her head.

"Bring me my daughter... She must know."

With a nod, the nurse left, returning a bit later with the princess.

Her dark emerald eyes sparkled at her mother in the morning sunlight.

"Is everything okay, Mother?" She asked, falling to her mother's side at the bed. Shirai'La's soft hands took hold of one of her mother's old, crinkled hands, and squeezed it.

The queen looked up at her daughter, smiling slightly.

"It is done, child... You will be off to Breya'n within a month."

Shirai'La's eyes closed. She lowered her head.

"Child, please, don't act like this..."

"Mother, what if they don't like me? What if--"

"If they don't, then make them like you, but don't change you, my child... Be strong."

The queen fell asleep.

Shirai'La stared at her mother, before dismissing herself.

She went to her own chambers, closing the door quietly. She walked to the mirror and stared at herself. The sea breeze made its way through her window. She smiled a bit. She was a Mari princess. She was tall, had sunkissed olive skin, big, bright eyes, wide hips, large breasts, long, dark hair that fell to her waist, just like her mother. She WAS Mari. She went to the window and held her hands to her chest.

"Gods, be good to my mother when she goes off to join you. Be good to the Shivering Sea when I cross over her... Be good to the prince I am to marry, be good to the people of Mari and Breya'n."

"My lady..." A voice called from the dark corner of the room.

Shirai'La smiled. "Be good to my most faithful guard..." she whispered, before turning around. "Renka, I know you heard the conversation between myself and my mother. We must start packing... Pack my finest things... Warmer things... I know Breya'n is colder than Mari, and they have winter... Gods, I don't know how I will handle winter..." She mumbled before fretting around the room.

Renka stayed silent, watching her princess in the shadows of the room.

"Renka, please come out... This is important."

"As you wish, my lady..."

Renka stepped from out the shadows. Covered from head to toe, she wore a skin-tight, black, boiled leather suit. Her bright blue, cat-like eyes stared at Shirai'La, her mouth covered by a black scarf.

Shirai'La smiled wildly, before letting out a huge laugh.

"You're coming with me, Renka. I know the gods will protect me, but with you, no one, not even Breya'n's harsh winters can hurt me."

4 month bump!

Dusty bump.