Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

Snippet #2768914

located in Blackvale, a part of Reign of the Usurper, one of the many universes on RPG.

Blackvale

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Westerly Castillon Character Portrait: Declan Castillon Character Portrait: Desmond Castillon Character Portrait: Bastion Thorne Character Portrait: Amara Thorne Character Portrait: Kester Thorne Character Portrait: Callum Mercier Character Portrait: Brynlee Mercier Character Portrait: Adelina Mercier Character Portrait: Sigrid Chambers Character Portrait: Laurence Chambers Character Portrait: Elira Chambers Character Portrait: Alec Chambers
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

Footnotes

Add Footnote »

0.00 INK

Image

lord bastion thorne
outfitx|x#7A11D4

Image
Image

lord kester thorne
outfitx|x#8A6EA3

Image
Image

lady amara thorne
outfitx|x#736A76

Image





People often feared that which they could not explain; the subtle sound of footsteps nearby, the whisper of the wind that sounded like a voice, or perhaps the snap that accompanied a broken branch beneath one's foot. The deep dark woods were a scary place for anyone unprepared for the suddenness of its lack of silence. But for the children of Morgana and Vladimir Thorne they were a haven, a winding maze of trees with twisting branches that wound together a path through the endless dark.

Of the three of them, it was Amara Thorne who could navigate that darkness the best. Holding in her hands the ability to call upon the woods themselves to guide her away from its dangers. She stalked those woods with vicious authority, the only place she could let her inner call to freedom run wild. She would take her precious bow and a sheath of arrows to those winding trees and find herself wasting hours tracking some silly creature through its darkness. Her eyes accustomed to the shadows and the tricks they would play.

But today she could not commit to the same ritual. Her longing for the woods smothered by the tightening of a corset round her waist and the feeling of her mothers talon sharp nails digging crescent moons into her skin. “You will listen to me darling and listen well,” Morgana begun, “Don’t bother with the lesser children, Declan is the heir and therefore the one you should be focusing on.”

“This will be done, lest we wish to bother with wiping the lot of them out.” Her mothers tone left no room for a remark, not argument nor agreeance. She had all control, her anger a mighty beast that scared Amara into a complacent silence. She wished for this to be done with – she wished for her mother to stop tightening her clothing to the point of breathlessness. At this rate, Amara would be dying of asphyxiation long before they arrived at the Vale!

“Mother I –“Amara cried out as she tightened the last lace, her eyes watering at the pressure applied to her ribcage. “Hush child, you must be seen and not heard, understand me?” Amara nodded wordlessly, and at long last her mother let up. Amara straightened her body and breathed as deeply as the vice around her would allow. She would find a servant as soon as her mother’s back was turned to loosen the forsaken thing, but until then she allowed her mothers hands to rake through her hair.

Mother rarely allowed anyone of ‘lesser blood’ touches Amara, including the servants. Her stance is that they would taint her, or tempt her into an unholy union – that of which Morgana refused to allow, no, her daughter was meant for greater things. Things that would lead them all that power they imagined they already had.
Amara attempted to keep her hisses between her teeth as her hair was twisted and pulled and pinned together with fine jewels. Being brought away from her face to show off those sharply delicate features her mother so prided herself in passing down to her children.

“There now, much better.” Her mother let go and Amara tried her best not to let her relief show too boldly. She wanted badly to be there already, away from the constant contact that her mother liked to keep with her. At least at this event, they would have time to exist outside of their parent’s realm of control. Her mother would be too busy juggling Amara between reigning in Bastion and Kester, who had yet to even show back up at home from when they last left – they knew of course where they were meant to be going but seemed not to care in the least.

Amara envied their ability to do what they wanted, whenever they wanted without consequences. Sure, their parents often tried but nearly always failed as her brothers were made of a different cut of steel than them. Bastion would laugh and Kester would simply disappear for long periods of time, whereas any wrongdoing of Amaras wound up being punished to the fullest extent – as if her isolation weren’t already enough.

“Now, as soon as those bastard brothers of yours appear we can be off,” Morgana Throne pursed her lips, Amara bit her tongue. She hated that her mother seemed incapable of treating either of her siblings with any level of love.

But Morgana is a cold woman, someone made up entirely of ice and because her Sons were rebellious couldn’t fathom having any love spared for the either of them. Amara often doesn’t know how any of them survived infancy with such a careless upbringing.

“I must check that everything is in proper order,” Morgana swept towards the door, her own fine jewels sparkling in the light from the sconces. That was one thing that Amara never enjoyed about living in the Dark Woods – there was barely any light. Even the sun could not penetrate the cloudy atmosphere of her homeland. Amara nodded but kept her lips tightly sealed, wanting her mother to simply go away at this point.

To which she thankfully did, allowing Amara her sigh of relief at long last. Now to find someone to free her of the boa constrictor wrapped around her.




A mighty flapping of wings echoed around the small courtyard where Bastion and Kester Thorne stood, sword to sword as they parried and swayed through the dance of a swordfight. Birds startled as each clang of blade on blade rung out but settled again along the branches of the deadened tree’s surrounding them. Bastion laughed, amused by his brother's attempts to thrust the blade towards his midsection – easily batting the blade away. They had been at it for several minutes now, ignoring the world around them as they tended to do. It had been a long couple of days and neither was inclined to be anywhere near a family member that did not happen to be one another.

They may hate each other, but brothers knew better than anyone how to come together in solidarity. “I suppose –“ Bastion blocked another thrust, grinning viciously with every sharp tooth showing “That we will both be after the same thing?”

It had been unspoken since the invitation arrived but Bastion knew just as well as Kester that neither of them was in it for love – they had other goals in mind. Whether it be summed up to the constant fight between them or the largely unspoken call to power that the Castillons had unwittingly put out. Bastion had his eyes on one singular prize – and a very fine one at that. Sure, nobody in the kingdom had heard anything of the princess for some time now but he knew that she still existed – perhaps in a similar way to how their mother kept Amara as a marionette on a very short string.

Kester too had big plans, and maybe they didn’t align perfectly with the Thorne way of thinking. He had always been different, a shining light in the darkness – the sun to their moons and it showed in the way he scoffed. Offended by the assumption that he would be following his brother's footsteps in trying to bag the crown. He had his own agenda, a need to escape this dark place for better lands. If that journey leads him to the Castillons then so be it, but he wanted something that no one else in his family could even fathom – an escape from this place.

But Bastion didn’t need to know nor understand Kester's intentions.

“Of course, we wouldn’t have something to fight over otherwise,” Kester replied. Stepping further back so as to get out of the way of a rather deadly strike. They were using real steel, nothing like the wooden sticks they had once trained with as young boys. Kester may be taller and had put on more weight with constant training but that paled in comparison to the way Bastion played underhanded tricks. He was faster than Kester too, knew how to wait for an opening.

It was no surprise when their blades met this time Bastion swept a leg out and took one leg out from underneath Kester entirely. Knocking the younger to the ground and quickly pressing the tip of his blade right into the others throat. Barely applying enough pressure to prickle at the skin as Kester swallowed heavily. Both were panting, still viciously expressive though Kesters had warped into a scowl.

“And if I don’t want the competition?” Bastion muses aloud, unmoving from his position. “If I end it here and now before you have the chance to try? That’s one less person I’ll have to deal with after all – and we both know those other nobles stand very little chance.”

”Don’t be a fool,” Kester interrupted, recognizing one of Bastions spiraling monologues and lack of heat behind his words. If Bastion had ever wanted his brother dead it would have been done ages ago – these were the games they played. ”You would miss the challenge.”

With that, the younger reached a gloved hand up and knocked the blade away. The loose way it was being held more telling than the silence from Bastion, who simply reached a hand forward to help his brother back to his feet.

”Suppose it’s time for us to be getting back, Mother will be furious that we’ve yet to prepare.” Kester said, glancing upwards at the sun through the sliver of clear sky where the canopy of trees broke away. They were late no doubt, he half expected their parents to pack Amara away and leave without the two of them. There truly is no love lost in the Thorne family.

“Mmmmm,” Bastion nodded, though it came out more amused than anything. “Let us not waste any more time then.”

”Yes, lets.”




By the time every member of the Thorne family had gathered in the main courtyard they were in varying states of distress. Morgana, and her manic energy making their servents buckle under the pressure of their fear of her. Vladimir stood away from his wife, conversing with their personal guard at the head of the carriages, his body language as harsh as the expression he nearly always wore on his face. From where they stood the three Thorne children could hear him gruffly threatening their men with severe – perhaps deadly – punishment were anything to delay or harm them; in that particular order.

”Nervous dear?” Bastion had turned his sharks grin to the youngest of the trio, little Amara whose skin had turned a ghostly shade of white in the sunlight – so rarely did she see anything but darkness.

She cut a glance his way but otherwise did not react. Nothing about the way she stood, nor the expression on her face gave away any sort of emotion. Still as a breathing statuette. An eerie thing to see if one did not know Amara and the way she operated.

”Leave her be,” Kester hissed. Bastion laughed, stepping away from Kesters side and round to Amara.

”She even dressed you up didn’t she?” He scoffed, partly in disgust. Partly in horrified awe, to have someone so completely under control intrigued him. Though he hated to see her strengths being put to waste inside her gilded cage.

”She always does.” Kester answered, once more for her.

Always the protector, big brother Kester. Amara did not twitch, nor did she smile – but in her own way she was grateful, he knew that. As well as he knew Bastion was simply bored and poking at the both of them to alleviate that.

”I’m talking to Mara now Kess, so hush.” He placed a finger to his lips, grinning around the leather glove. Never taking his eyes off of his sister, the fine purple dress she wore – their colors! How precious. He may have been wearing similar attire, but the way she was bathed in it seemed to scream Thorne pride. ”Stop.” Kesters tone was harsh, a bit like what their fathers often could be.

”Fine, fine! None of you are any fun at all.”

”Bastion! Their father called out to him, one arm raised in a beckoning motion. Bastions manic smile slipped from his face. He rolled his eyes, considering ignoring the commanding tone but thought better of it at the last moment. He wanted this journey to go as smoothly as possible, and if that meant listening to his parents for a few dull hours than he would make that sacrifice. After all, he had such a prize waiting for him at the Vale.

Once gone, Kester turned to Amara. Though he was concerned he knew better than to ask her how she felt. He simply gripped one of her hands in his, ignoring just how delicate she seemed sometimes. He had always felt responsible for her in a way, and he knew that despite Bastions constant picking and poking that he did too. They were after all the last line of defense she had against their parent’s cruelty sometimes.

”You look beautiful Amara,” He squeezed her hand gently with his then let go, ”Bastions a bastard, but we’ll both make sure nothing happens to you. Mother may think she has all of this in her hands but she seems to forget that we three are no longer toddlers without the ability to think for ourselves.” The boys had long since learned to do their own thing, but she didn’t have the same luck.

”I know.” Amara whispered, façade breaking just for a moment. She glanced sidelong where her mother was busy making sure that the Dark Woods would not be run into the ground while they were gone. ”But I also know its easier to do what they want.”

She patted her brothers shoulder with a small, pinched smile.

”Worry not for me Kester, I know my orders.” And with that, she too started off for the carriage. Leaving Kester standing there in thought. Until of course Bastion started towards him once more, to his sides were two mighty steeds, their reigns in either hand. He recognized the pure black coat and silvery mane of Bastions horse Omen. The other was Kesters, a dappled gray stallion named Sorrowsweet, for the teardrop-like markings beneath each eye. Amara had named the horse for him after Kester had spent many long nights toiling over it as a young boy.

Father wishes for us to ride at the sides of the carriage,” Bastion did not have to explain why. The trees were easy to hide in and nobles traveling the winding roads were fools not to have protection at all sides. Kester glanced at their father, Vladimirs imposing form already astride his horse Deathbringer; unsurprisingly the sire of his children’s steeds.

It was a basic formation, their father at the front with two of his men, the two boys at the side, women in the carriage with various members of their guard escorting them from the behind. Two of the men riding their mother and sisters horses, as they would not be permitted outside the carriage themselves until arrival at the Vale. Nobody would dare say out loud to Morgana Thorne that it was much too dangerous on the road – they all knew she could kill anyone as well as her husband could – but there was tradition to uphold.

”Bastion! Kester!” Their father once more called to the two of them expectantly. With varying degrees of haste, the two of them mounted, splitting to either side. Amara had already gotten into the Carriage and all that was left was their mother. Whom stopped to turn a cold eye to Bastion as she got into the Carriage. A clear warning; one that he would ignore to the full extent of his being.

They were off then, at the beginning of their long journey.




Their arrival was not swift nor easy and by the end of it, Amara was utterly sick of hearing her mother lecture every small thing she did. She was glad then when the carriage pulled to a final halt and the sound of hoofbeats against the ground stopped. She wanted to peer out of the carriage, to take in the scenery but she knew that would simply be frowned upon.

”Come on Mara,” At long last Kester peered into the Carriage, offering an arm to her in order to help her step out. The dress still constricted her movement in ways that much annoyed her. Not that she would show the discomfort.

Once they were all out they were quickly ushered into the palace, everything a blur of color and sounds that Amara simply was not used to. She tightened her grip on Kesters arm, and in turn, received a knowing look from him. This was unknown territory, dangerous in all the same ways that made it safe. Bastion appeared, looking perfectly like he had not been complaining the whole way there rather vociferously - as was his way.

”Presenting House Thorne, Lords of the Dark Wood.” The steward called as they entered, a proper announcement of their arrival and one that Bastion found he enjoyed hearing immensely. Vladimir led the charge with Morgana, their children filing in with each boy acting as a buffer with Amara between them. They were all looking around, but it was he who was taking in the grandeur of the setting rather than the people who had already arrived.

Amara had eyes only for the other nobles, her heart suddenly jumping into her throat – there were already so many people and more to come, how was she to compete? Outwardly she simply showed nothing of her nerves. But did smile as she was told to.

”Your majesty, it is an honor and a pleasure to have received an invitation. It has been a long time since last we spoke – my children were eager indeed to have this chance to meet so many fine nobles of their own age.” Vladimir motioned the three of them forward, ”May I present my children, Bastion, Kester, and my youngest Amara.”

Each of them bowed and Amara curtsied in turn.

”We thank you for this fine opportunity.” Morgana spoke next, not one to stay on the sidelines. As soon as introductions were out of the way the three younger Thornes turned away and towards the grouping of other Nobles.