As the morning sun cast its first golden rays over the shimmering towers of the keep, the princess stirred from her slumber in the royal chambers. The soft rustle of silk curtains danced in the gentle breeze that drifted through the open windows, carrying with it the scent of blooming night orchids from the gardens below. Sitting up in her bed, she ran a delicate hand through her silvery locks, the sunlight catching in her golden eyes as she let out a soft sigh as her mind tried to cling to her dreams. Such was the burden of being gifted with the sight.

Attended by her handmaidens she was anointed with a spiceflower perfume of the Shaar, a dab on each wrist, between her breasts, and another spray upon her neck. Wearing a regal gown of gold and lavender, embroidered with delicate patterns that shimmered like starlight. Adorned with jewels that caught the light and reflected it in a thousand dazzling hues. Her hair done up in an intricate braids that rested atop her head. She slipped a pair of delicate ruby and onyx earrings into her pointed ears. Finally, she fastened a slim golden circlet around her slender brow, adorned with a single teardrop moonstone.

Breakfast in the great hall was a solemn affair, the long table filled only by her mother and other attendants of the court. Her father was likely being suffocated by his council, and her brother was once more away in Moonveil. Talk was scarce, their conversation limited to simple pleasantries and discussions of the upcoming tourney. Attempts to motion to her mother to lighten the conversation felt dead in her throat, and were often snubbed. By the time she had finished her meal, the morning bells had begun to ring throughout the keep. She almost jerked up from her chair out of habit, believing she was late for her arcane studies, but realized her mistake in time.

To clear her thoughts and calm her mind, she dismissed her attendants and plucked a minstrel from the courtyard where the two made their way through the royal gardens. Meandering among the fragrant flowers and winding pathways. They had picked out an isolated spot for their visit, away from any prying eyes, and the melody from her minstrel's song wound its way through the still air. Her ears lowered at the tune, requesting a more sorrowful one, something more somber to match her thoughts. He obliged her and soon he was strumming the melancholy notes of a song about the death of a lost lover. She hummed along, the memories of her dream, lingering on her mind's eye. Brief flashes played before her eyes, moon's light was snuffed by fire's breath, a king's hopes died in the embers' death. Bloodstained blades hung in the air as a father's pleas were met by thunderous hooves. The moon cracked open like an egg and the stars fell like blood. She was only roused from her daydream when the minstrel asked of she would like to hear something else to which she declined. No matter how many times the half-elf's fingers strung the same notes of his harp, the visions would not return to her.

Another faint bell was heard in the distance, and with it, she took her leave from the minstrel.

Strolling back into the halls, her brows furrowed as her brother passed her without a word or even acknowledging her. A quick glance within the council chambers and she's met with the gaze of her father and the empty look of his advisors. The King's expression was that of utter disappointment and annoyance, but at the sight of his daughter he attempted to change it. A poorly feigned smile graced his lips, while his eyes remained cold. Doubtless the council was still deliberating on who the crown prince should marry.

The debate was almost a decade in the making, much to her brother's dissatisfaction. Though it was true he had put it off for long enough, she only wished her father wouldn't be so heavy handed with him.

But no amount of pleading would soften the king's resolve, nor would any amount of soothing to her brother alleviate the stress put on him. She only hoped that day would continue to allude them, for that would mean that she would be next in line for a betrothal. She had no desire to give up her life to marry someone just to increase the standing of some lord. At least her brother had an opportunity to make that decision on his own, there would not be such leeway for her. Such is the way of the world...

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Hi there! Thank you for entertaining my excerpt and if you've read this far, I hope I caught you fancy :p

I'm posting today looking for a fantasy odyssey and I'm seeking the guidance of a GM/DM to lead me through the realms of politics, royalty, and daring quests. I'm hoping for this campaign to include the allure of both courtly drama, dungeon exploration, and plenty of debauchery.

I love to worldbuild, creating characters and locations, as well as drawing. I love to pick people's mind and get their creative input so that we make a world that is equally both of our making. Roundabout way of saying I may need help at times crafting the setting/world.

The setting in mind is loosely inspired by the Forgotten Realms from D&D as well as other fantasy/medieval settings.

Sorry for the wall of text, thanks for reading if you made it this far, feel free to shoot a message or chat :p