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Somnolentus
Dust
- Joined
- May 8, 2025
Thunder cracked outside as the heavy oak door of the remote trade town Khavid’s sole inn slid open. Lyria scrunched her nose distastefully at the heavy hanging smell of tobacco smoke that met her. After many stops in many little towns it wasn’t anything unexpected, though. Her entrance drew a few momentary looks from some around the pub, if only for the strangeness of such a late arrival. Lyria moved straight up to the bar, giving the portly bearded man behind it a friendly smile and setting a few coins down on the counter. “I’ll have whatever you’ve got to eat that’s warm, and a mug of honey mead, thank you,” she said with a bow of her head, taking a seat as the barkeep took up the coins and moved along to serve a man at the far end. Resting her staff beside her Lyria pulled down the hood of her wet cloak and shook free her mess of curly hair, sighing tiredly.
Her moment of reprieve was brief as footsteps approached behind her, and Lyria glanced up to see the gangly, leering form of a man with slicked brown hair sidling up to the bar beside her. The worst thing though was the crest on the front of his gambeson, identifying him as one of king Gwaith’s hired thugs- sorry, peacekeepers. “And a very good evening, miss. Not often we see a mage pass through this little mud spot. What would bring a bright and lovely thing like you around here?” Lyria recoiled from how uncomfortably close beside her the man stood, keeping her gaze ahead and trying not to look as uneasy as she felt.
“Just a meal and a place to rest. My business is elsewhere. Have a lovely evening,” she responded, brief but polite, hoping the man would just move on. He didn’t seem to appreciate her dismissal very much.
“That voice of yours don’t make it sound like you’re from Lindein, missy,” his gloved hand rose to grip her shoulder uncomfortably tight, making Lyria’s whole body tense. “Come and have a chat with my comrades and I, we’ll have a look and make sure all your travel papers are in order,” Lyria looked up towards him in surprise, fumbling for a response before the man clicked his tongue critically. “Figured. You’re in big trouble then little lady. You mages need to learn you can’t just fuck about wherever you want,” his hand jumped from her shoulder to grip the back of her neck and Lyria’s jaw tightened, heart hammering in her chest. Laying a hand on one of Gwaith’s goons was far from a great idea- but her options were rapidly dwindling. Lyria may have hated to fight, but this creep would not be doing anything else, his hateful grin betraying plenty of malicious intent. As it stood, he was mere moments away from learning just why so many mages went wherever they pleased.
Lyrianne of Liddel (or Lyria as she usually prefers) is a nineteen year old mage, looking to travel the world and learn all she can about magic. Lyria stands at 5’4'' with messy, sandy blonde hair that falls in loose curls to just above her shoulders. Her eyes are a vibrant green and freckles dot Lyria’s face over the bridge of her nose and cheeks, continuing on down over her chest, shoulders, and lower back. She has a light and lithe build, with pale skin and a collection of varying sized scars dotting her body from magical ‘experimentation’. On her travels Lyria has at all times her staff, its length composed of two intertwined lengths of dark elder wood with a softly glowing sapphire embedded into its knotted head. Alongside she carries a large satchel of spell books and clothing. She wears an ivory colored blouse with a vest of dark gray leather and trim, and heavy black trousers made for traveling. In the same vein she wears sleek, stiff hiking boots and a heavy traveling cloak overtop everything.
(Thank you for reading! I imagine you playing as another patron in the bar who steps in to offer Lyria a hand, but otherwise do whatever you might like for your character’s looks, backstory, whatever! So far as kinks favorites for me are bondage, teasing, casual sex, breathplay, spanking, hair pulling, semi-public/risk of getting caught, grinding, hypnosis, aphrodisiacs, pinning, throatpies, power exchange, pet names, sleep play, facefucking, rough handling, cock/body worship, creampies, uniforms/costumes, things like that! Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely day.)
Her moment of reprieve was brief as footsteps approached behind her, and Lyria glanced up to see the gangly, leering form of a man with slicked brown hair sidling up to the bar beside her. The worst thing though was the crest on the front of his gambeson, identifying him as one of king Gwaith’s hired thugs- sorry, peacekeepers. “And a very good evening, miss. Not often we see a mage pass through this little mud spot. What would bring a bright and lovely thing like you around here?” Lyria recoiled from how uncomfortably close beside her the man stood, keeping her gaze ahead and trying not to look as uneasy as she felt.
“Just a meal and a place to rest. My business is elsewhere. Have a lovely evening,” she responded, brief but polite, hoping the man would just move on. He didn’t seem to appreciate her dismissal very much.
“That voice of yours don’t make it sound like you’re from Lindein, missy,” his gloved hand rose to grip her shoulder uncomfortably tight, making Lyria’s whole body tense. “Come and have a chat with my comrades and I, we’ll have a look and make sure all your travel papers are in order,” Lyria looked up towards him in surprise, fumbling for a response before the man clicked his tongue critically. “Figured. You’re in big trouble then little lady. You mages need to learn you can’t just fuck about wherever you want,” his hand jumped from her shoulder to grip the back of her neck and Lyria’s jaw tightened, heart hammering in her chest. Laying a hand on one of Gwaith’s goons was far from a great idea- but her options were rapidly dwindling. Lyria may have hated to fight, but this creep would not be doing anything else, his hateful grin betraying plenty of malicious intent. As it stood, he was mere moments away from learning just why so many mages went wherever they pleased.
Lyrianne of Liddel (or Lyria as she usually prefers) is a nineteen year old mage, looking to travel the world and learn all she can about magic. Lyria stands at 5’4'' with messy, sandy blonde hair that falls in loose curls to just above her shoulders. Her eyes are a vibrant green and freckles dot Lyria’s face over the bridge of her nose and cheeks, continuing on down over her chest, shoulders, and lower back. She has a light and lithe build, with pale skin and a collection of varying sized scars dotting her body from magical ‘experimentation’. On her travels Lyria has at all times her staff, its length composed of two intertwined lengths of dark elder wood with a softly glowing sapphire embedded into its knotted head. Alongside she carries a large satchel of spell books and clothing. She wears an ivory colored blouse with a vest of dark gray leather and trim, and heavy black trousers made for traveling. In the same vein she wears sleek, stiff hiking boots and a heavy traveling cloak overtop everything.
(Thank you for reading! I imagine you playing as another patron in the bar who steps in to offer Lyria a hand, but otherwise do whatever you might like for your character’s looks, backstory, whatever! So far as kinks favorites for me are bondage, teasing, casual sex, breathplay, spanking, hair pulling, semi-public/risk of getting caught, grinding, hypnosis, aphrodisiacs, pinning, throatpies, power exchange, pet names, sleep play, facefucking, rough handling, cock/body worship, creampies, uniforms/costumes, things like that! Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely day.)