EvangelineEverheart
Fairytale Maiden
Inner Sanctum Nobility
♔ Champion ♔
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Location: The Dragonborn country of Tymanther - The City of Aurixzhar - The Delmirev Estate
Aesthetic: Ancient Roman
"In, in, in!" the voice of a small, golden-haired boy commanded in the way that only a pouty five-year old could do so as he stamped his foot on stone floor. His tiny arm outstretched with his short finger rigidly pointed in the directive manner of drill instructor. His little lip upturned into a smile, however, his face alight with eagerness as the two towering adult figures followed him through the kitchen doorway.
Unlike the boy, however, these two adults were quite unlike any beings seen before. Known across Faerunn as Dragonborn. Both possessing flesh of deeply imbedded draconic scales, the male a deep bronzed coloration of antiqued brass, and the female a breath-taking gold which shimmered with her every step. Each of the adults bore a draconic face and snout, lizard-like eyes, the male's quite bright orange, while the female's were a brilliant teal topaz. Indeed, they were as different of creatures in appearance to the boy as any, the only shared feature seemed to be the fact the female dragonborn and the boy possessed the exact same shade of hair.
There was a militant stride to both of them, their footsteps falling into a synchronized marching formation as they strode down the hallway. The golden female, one Kalarys Delmirev by name, leaned her slender sculpted snout towards the squared head of her companion, her unique horns just tapping the boned protective frills around his head. "Do you have any idea what this is about?" she whispered as best she could, knowing the boy Karthonax by now that he could hear them as sharp as an elf... even though he did not possess elven ears.
The large brass dragonborn chuckled, his broad chest rumbling with the depth of the sound as he shook his head. "None in the slightest, my mitne (light)," his sardonyx eyes falling upon the youngster. "Though knowing your ward, I would think it is something meant to be enjoyed." Which coming from Khyber Berron, also known as 'Major Payne in my ass' and "Saergent Stick Up His Ass" among the ranks, was quite surprising to hear. At least for most, Kalarys being one of the lucky exceptions seeing as how they grew up together as best friends, childhood sweethearts, feuding rivals as squires only to circle around as adults and find out they were made for one another.
It was no surprise to many in the city of Aurixzhar where they hailed from when Delmirev Kalarys, heir to the Duxx (Duke) of the Clan had chosen which of her suitors' betrothals she would be accepting. Even though Khyber held no titles, no land, no amassed wealth from his adventures, offered no political benefit other than the fact he was a Paladin (holy knight) within the same Order as she, he was whom she wanted. Her father had given his most enthused blessing, having hoped the man would 'grow the scales' to propose eventually. Though it did surprise everyone she accepted after the man publicly beat her cousin's helmet into a dent and ripped out one of his fangs as a reminder not to insult the lady who would one day be Liege by calling her a whore.
Ah, but those are other stories to be told.
As the two draconic beings, each over six and a half feet with Khyber being a few inches taller due to his reminiscent triceratops frills (what's a triceratops and why does it seem to fit the description here-), passed into the kitchen, the boy Karthonax, or Kar for short, fiendishly giggled. "Surprise!" the boy bounced with his arms up in the air as he stood behind them in the doorway.
Within the stone kitchen, the warm furnace had been lit to exude a great heat that made the fire-breathers shudder in welcome relaxation. Odd, but the vast cooking area to the Delmirev estate was... utterly empty of any cooks or servants. Pristinely clean, however, as one would expect from Dragonborn. The center table held a few ingredients, bowls and utensils, but nothing out of the ordinary. Indeed the oddest thing was for a military estate, it was empty.
Confused, Kalarys looked towards Kar with a tilt of her horns. "It is a very nice surprise, Kar... but what are we doing?"
With a sigh only a child could give, the boy dropped his arms and rushed over towards the table. He could just barely pull himself up with his little sharp elbows to see over the table, pointing everything out. "This! Is everything for you two to make a sweet bun (cake) together!" He proudly beamed up at them. "See! There's a special baking pan and the recipe book and the measuring cups and everything! Mr Syrric even put a spell on the cream and butter cartons to keep it chilled so it wouldn't spoil!"
Indeed, there was a pan, which had once been round or... square perhaps, it was difficult to say, that had been crudely hammered into the rough shape of a heart. "... Did you and Oggiee make that?" Kalarys asked, looking to Khyber whose fingers were running over the front of his snout to try and keep a serious face. The half-ogre barbarian of such low intelligence was... sort of a pet to the boy by this point.
"UH-HUH!" Kar proudly stated, slipping from the table, looking between the two adults. "We wanted to do something nice for you! Since you're married now and Mr Khyber's going away for a while! The baker's wife said they made lots of buns together and it made them very happy!"
Khyber, examining the contents of the table, pulled up what appeared to be a silken blindfold. "... Dare I ask what this is for?" he huffed towards Kalarys with a slight tug to the corner of his maw.
Kar piped up. "That's the blindfold!" Two draconic heads whipped towards the child as he shrugged. "It was Mr Brent's idea! He thought it would make you communicate better! See-" he pointed towards the blindfold. "One of you is blindfolded, the other stands in front with their hands behind their back. The blindfolded person puts their arms through the other person's arms and does all the measuring and stirring while the person without the blindfold tells them what to do and where things are!"
"We are Legionaire Officers in the Order of the Sacred Flame - we communicate well enough without such games-" Khyber spoke, beginning to put the silken tie away with the mental note to strangle that half-elf his beloved called battle-brother from tan to blue... when Kar began to make that face. Big, watery eyes. Large, over pouting lip. Little fists curled up under his chin as he genuinely looked upset.
Any other dragonborn might have been able to resist such a thing. As a Haestatus Centurion (a Lieutenant in the Paladin Order) Khyber should have been able to shrug off the boy's pleading eyes for a useless game. But the one thing which Khyber Berron wanted more than anything (other than marrying Kalarys of course,) was fatherhood. To be a father, and then only the best that a father could be, and a grand husband, was the only true ambition of his life. With a defeated look to Kalarys, the male exhaled deep from his broad chest. "But... it does no harm for a bit of fun to be had."
That shot the boy's mood right up as Kar beamed brightly, practically bouncing on his feet. "YEAH! Supposed to be fun! And messy!" He stood on his tip toes as he pulled down two large white aprons. "So need these!"
With raised brows, the two dragonborn slipped the aprons on, only to bite their tongues as they shared a wordless expression that had Kalarys blushing. The woman was well among the most bountiful in the region of her chest, and the apron did almost nothing to cover the fullness, leaving her chest and long toga dress exposed. Khyber's was no better with his broad expansion, but at least his chest was not prominently rounded out to protrude the cloth so hysterically absurd.
"I think that's everything.... okay, my part is done! Bye-bye!" Kar announced with a little wave, marching away towards the door. Just as the boy began to close the massive thick oak, he piped up once more. "O yeah! You two can't leave until there is a bun in the oven!" With that, he slammed the door shut, a distinct sound of a lock being turned as the doorway shimmered with blue waves. Kalarys gawped at the entrance. "... Did the boy just put a magical lock on that door?"
"... Would honestly not surprise me coming from that boy, my mitne (light)," Khyber spoke as he looked to the ingredients and utensils, sliding the silk band through his fingers. A slight grin crossed his maw as he reached to pull his beloved to him, looping his arms under her chest to hold her close, scaled muzzle pushing away at her rare hair and nuzzling to her exposed neck. A low rumble vibrated his thick chest against her muscled back as he adored her frame. Once, she was called disfigured, known as a hideous gremlin to most of their kin due to a curse bleaching the gold from her scales, tarnishing her in a way that left her unlike another. Khyber never saw the scars. Or rather, he saw past them. Even from the first time he lay eyes on her when they were but small ones no more than Kar's age. He had always thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, then, and now. It only took the better part of a decade for him to tell her how he felt, but she was worth the wait. The fights. The pain. The worry. The failures and successes that led to her. His mitne, his light.
Kalarys felt her face flush, and it wasn't the heat of the kitchen, a soft chuckle coming from her golden muzzle. "I gather you want to be the one taking orders?"
Khyber chuckled into her ear. "As your vassal, I ever await your command, my Duxissa (Duchess)..." his claws gave a caress along her stomach.
He knew exactly how to feed her ego and vanity, making her shiver. "Ever loyal Berron... but, Senior Officers are supposed to be leading the charge from the front~" It was a complicated relationship. On the one hand, they saw each other as equals, treated one another as equals... politically, she was his superior by far as she the heir Duxissa and he but a Knight, BUT... rank wise as they were both paladins within the same Order, he was her Commanding Officer and held rank over her.
Khyber grinned at her banter, his chin leaning to rest upon her shoulder as he pulled close his dearest. "On this occasion I do not mind ... bringing up the rear." He gave a smart pinch of her well-taut backside, causing her to hiss through her teeth, those golden scales flushing a shade or two deeper along her cheekbones as a blue light began to glow beneath the clothing.
"Ixen!" she hissed the sweet endearment of her lover, white smoke coming from between her fanged teeth. Flame. More specifically, her gra'kul ixen... her heart flame. Since she could remember, Kalarys had carried a torch for Khyber Berron. He was there when no one else was. He drove her. Pushed her to become the legend she wanted to be in living up to her father's image. He settled with her hating him if it meant she despised herself a little less. Others scoffed at how a man of his talents in battle could have such little ambition for climbing the ranks when he did so easily. Yet they did not see the guts and glory this man possessed to pursue against all odds the woman who would one day be crowned ruler over all Clan Delmirev's lands. They did not see how he cast aside every order, stole money from their holy paladin order, rode several horses to their deaths and put himself into an over-drugged coma from regeneration potions... all because he was given a wrong message that led him to believe she was with child, his child to be specific.
But again, another story to be told, and not a rather comedic one at that.
Kalarys felt the defined arms of her mate slip away for but a moment, listening to the familiar sound of silk upon scales, (it was one of the few fabrics that did not snag or itch dragonborn hides, remove your minds from the gutter!) the golden woman gave a grin, clasping her left wrist with her right hand behind her back. It wasn't a moment later she found herself pressed snuggly between the edge of the preparation table and Khyber's towering form.
His clawed fingers found the edge of her apron, teasingly rubbing up and down along the inside seam to brush his knuckles against Kalarys' overwhelming chest. She nestled back into Khyber's broadly bronzed chest, shuddering with a soft groan from her throat that sounded akin to a lizard purring. "Tease-" she accused with a slight grin, nuzzling her snout into his cheek.
Khyber rumbled in return, nestling the silken strands of her golden hair, one of the few dragonborn who possessed it, a trait only passed among golds of a pure bloodline. "Hnn... how can you expect me to resist the most beautiful woman in all of our kind? Especially when I must feel to see you-" he added, caressing his knuckles down the curve of her side and up again to cup beneath her breasts in a gentle massage. Among Fire-Breathers - reds, golds, and brass - a large chest was a sought-after trait in a mate; it meant a larger firebreath. There was reason for Kalarys being such a busty lass - Fire-Breathers held two extra lungs in their upper chests, breath-organs, and being cursed as a child with her flame suppressed, Kalarys had exercised them day and night simply to show a huff of smoke.
Again, another story to tell... there are a lot of those.
The hands of her mate had learned her body well, Kalarys almost dropping her rigid composure fully to melt against him. "
Aesthetic: Ancient Roman
"In, in, in!" the voice of a small, golden-haired boy commanded in the way that only a pouty five-year old could do so as he stamped his foot on stone floor. His tiny arm outstretched with his short finger rigidly pointed in the directive manner of drill instructor. His little lip upturned into a smile, however, his face alight with eagerness as the two towering adult figures followed him through the kitchen doorway.
Unlike the boy, however, these two adults were quite unlike any beings seen before. Known across Faerunn as Dragonborn. Both possessing flesh of deeply imbedded draconic scales, the male a deep bronzed coloration of antiqued brass, and the female a breath-taking gold which shimmered with her every step. Each of the adults bore a draconic face and snout, lizard-like eyes, the male's quite bright orange, while the female's were a brilliant teal topaz. Indeed, they were as different of creatures in appearance to the boy as any, the only shared feature seemed to be the fact the female dragonborn and the boy possessed the exact same shade of hair.
There was a militant stride to both of them, their footsteps falling into a synchronized marching formation as they strode down the hallway. The golden female, one Kalarys Delmirev by name, leaned her slender sculpted snout towards the squared head of her companion, her unique horns just tapping the boned protective frills around his head. "Do you have any idea what this is about?" she whispered as best she could, knowing the boy Karthonax by now that he could hear them as sharp as an elf... even though he did not possess elven ears.
The large brass dragonborn chuckled, his broad chest rumbling with the depth of the sound as he shook his head. "None in the slightest, my mitne (light)," his sardonyx eyes falling upon the youngster. "Though knowing your ward, I would think it is something meant to be enjoyed." Which coming from Khyber Berron, also known as 'Major Payne in my ass' and "Saergent Stick Up His Ass" among the ranks, was quite surprising to hear. At least for most, Kalarys being one of the lucky exceptions seeing as how they grew up together as best friends, childhood sweethearts, feuding rivals as squires only to circle around as adults and find out they were made for one another.
It was no surprise to many in the city of Aurixzhar where they hailed from when Delmirev Kalarys, heir to the Duxx (Duke) of the Clan had chosen which of her suitors' betrothals she would be accepting. Even though Khyber held no titles, no land, no amassed wealth from his adventures, offered no political benefit other than the fact he was a Paladin (holy knight) within the same Order as she, he was whom she wanted. Her father had given his most enthused blessing, having hoped the man would 'grow the scales' to propose eventually. Though it did surprise everyone she accepted after the man publicly beat her cousin's helmet into a dent and ripped out one of his fangs as a reminder not to insult the lady who would one day be Liege by calling her a whore.
Ah, but those are other stories to be told.
As the two draconic beings, each over six and a half feet with Khyber being a few inches taller due to his reminiscent triceratops frills (what's a triceratops and why does it seem to fit the description here-), passed into the kitchen, the boy Karthonax, or Kar for short, fiendishly giggled. "Surprise!" the boy bounced with his arms up in the air as he stood behind them in the doorway.
Within the stone kitchen, the warm furnace had been lit to exude a great heat that made the fire-breathers shudder in welcome relaxation. Odd, but the vast cooking area to the Delmirev estate was... utterly empty of any cooks or servants. Pristinely clean, however, as one would expect from Dragonborn. The center table held a few ingredients, bowls and utensils, but nothing out of the ordinary. Indeed the oddest thing was for a military estate, it was empty.
Confused, Kalarys looked towards Kar with a tilt of her horns. "It is a very nice surprise, Kar... but what are we doing?"
With a sigh only a child could give, the boy dropped his arms and rushed over towards the table. He could just barely pull himself up with his little sharp elbows to see over the table, pointing everything out. "This! Is everything for you two to make a sweet bun (cake) together!" He proudly beamed up at them. "See! There's a special baking pan and the recipe book and the measuring cups and everything! Mr Syrric even put a spell on the cream and butter cartons to keep it chilled so it wouldn't spoil!"
Indeed, there was a pan, which had once been round or... square perhaps, it was difficult to say, that had been crudely hammered into the rough shape of a heart. "... Did you and Oggiee make that?" Kalarys asked, looking to Khyber whose fingers were running over the front of his snout to try and keep a serious face. The half-ogre barbarian of such low intelligence was... sort of a pet to the boy by this point.
"UH-HUH!" Kar proudly stated, slipping from the table, looking between the two adults. "We wanted to do something nice for you! Since you're married now and Mr Khyber's going away for a while! The baker's wife said they made lots of buns together and it made them very happy!"
Khyber, examining the contents of the table, pulled up what appeared to be a silken blindfold. "... Dare I ask what this is for?" he huffed towards Kalarys with a slight tug to the corner of his maw.
Kar piped up. "That's the blindfold!" Two draconic heads whipped towards the child as he shrugged. "It was Mr Brent's idea! He thought it would make you communicate better! See-" he pointed towards the blindfold. "One of you is blindfolded, the other stands in front with their hands behind their back. The blindfolded person puts their arms through the other person's arms and does all the measuring and stirring while the person without the blindfold tells them what to do and where things are!"
"We are Legionaire Officers in the Order of the Sacred Flame - we communicate well enough without such games-" Khyber spoke, beginning to put the silken tie away with the mental note to strangle that half-elf his beloved called battle-brother from tan to blue... when Kar began to make that face. Big, watery eyes. Large, over pouting lip. Little fists curled up under his chin as he genuinely looked upset.
Any other dragonborn might have been able to resist such a thing. As a Haestatus Centurion (a Lieutenant in the Paladin Order) Khyber should have been able to shrug off the boy's pleading eyes for a useless game. But the one thing which Khyber Berron wanted more than anything (other than marrying Kalarys of course,) was fatherhood. To be a father, and then only the best that a father could be, and a grand husband, was the only true ambition of his life. With a defeated look to Kalarys, the male exhaled deep from his broad chest. "But... it does no harm for a bit of fun to be had."
That shot the boy's mood right up as Kar beamed brightly, practically bouncing on his feet. "YEAH! Supposed to be fun! And messy!" He stood on his tip toes as he pulled down two large white aprons. "So need these!"
With raised brows, the two dragonborn slipped the aprons on, only to bite their tongues as they shared a wordless expression that had Kalarys blushing. The woman was well among the most bountiful in the region of her chest, and the apron did almost nothing to cover the fullness, leaving her chest and long toga dress exposed. Khyber's was no better with his broad expansion, but at least his chest was not prominently rounded out to protrude the cloth so hysterically absurd.
"I think that's everything.... okay, my part is done! Bye-bye!" Kar announced with a little wave, marching away towards the door. Just as the boy began to close the massive thick oak, he piped up once more. "O yeah! You two can't leave until there is a bun in the oven!" With that, he slammed the door shut, a distinct sound of a lock being turned as the doorway shimmered with blue waves. Kalarys gawped at the entrance. "... Did the boy just put a magical lock on that door?"
"... Would honestly not surprise me coming from that boy, my mitne (light)," Khyber spoke as he looked to the ingredients and utensils, sliding the silk band through his fingers. A slight grin crossed his maw as he reached to pull his beloved to him, looping his arms under her chest to hold her close, scaled muzzle pushing away at her rare hair and nuzzling to her exposed neck. A low rumble vibrated his thick chest against her muscled back as he adored her frame. Once, she was called disfigured, known as a hideous gremlin to most of their kin due to a curse bleaching the gold from her scales, tarnishing her in a way that left her unlike another. Khyber never saw the scars. Or rather, he saw past them. Even from the first time he lay eyes on her when they were but small ones no more than Kar's age. He had always thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, then, and now. It only took the better part of a decade for him to tell her how he felt, but she was worth the wait. The fights. The pain. The worry. The failures and successes that led to her. His mitne, his light.
Kalarys felt her face flush, and it wasn't the heat of the kitchen, a soft chuckle coming from her golden muzzle. "I gather you want to be the one taking orders?"
Khyber chuckled into her ear. "As your vassal, I ever await your command, my Duxissa (Duchess)..." his claws gave a caress along her stomach.
He knew exactly how to feed her ego and vanity, making her shiver. "Ever loyal Berron... but, Senior Officers are supposed to be leading the charge from the front~" It was a complicated relationship. On the one hand, they saw each other as equals, treated one another as equals... politically, she was his superior by far as she the heir Duxissa and he but a Knight, BUT... rank wise as they were both paladins within the same Order, he was her Commanding Officer and held rank over her.
Khyber grinned at her banter, his chin leaning to rest upon her shoulder as he pulled close his dearest. "On this occasion I do not mind ... bringing up the rear." He gave a smart pinch of her well-taut backside, causing her to hiss through her teeth, those golden scales flushing a shade or two deeper along her cheekbones as a blue light began to glow beneath the clothing.
"Ixen!" she hissed the sweet endearment of her lover, white smoke coming from between her fanged teeth. Flame. More specifically, her gra'kul ixen... her heart flame. Since she could remember, Kalarys had carried a torch for Khyber Berron. He was there when no one else was. He drove her. Pushed her to become the legend she wanted to be in living up to her father's image. He settled with her hating him if it meant she despised herself a little less. Others scoffed at how a man of his talents in battle could have such little ambition for climbing the ranks when he did so easily. Yet they did not see the guts and glory this man possessed to pursue against all odds the woman who would one day be crowned ruler over all Clan Delmirev's lands. They did not see how he cast aside every order, stole money from their holy paladin order, rode several horses to their deaths and put himself into an over-drugged coma from regeneration potions... all because he was given a wrong message that led him to believe she was with child, his child to be specific.
But again, another story to be told, and not a rather comedic one at that.
Kalarys felt the defined arms of her mate slip away for but a moment, listening to the familiar sound of silk upon scales, (it was one of the few fabrics that did not snag or itch dragonborn hides, remove your minds from the gutter!) the golden woman gave a grin, clasping her left wrist with her right hand behind her back. It wasn't a moment later she found herself pressed snuggly between the edge of the preparation table and Khyber's towering form.
His clawed fingers found the edge of her apron, teasingly rubbing up and down along the inside seam to brush his knuckles against Kalarys' overwhelming chest. She nestled back into Khyber's broadly bronzed chest, shuddering with a soft groan from her throat that sounded akin to a lizard purring. "Tease-" she accused with a slight grin, nuzzling her snout into his cheek.
Khyber rumbled in return, nestling the silken strands of her golden hair, one of the few dragonborn who possessed it, a trait only passed among golds of a pure bloodline. "Hnn... how can you expect me to resist the most beautiful woman in all of our kind? Especially when I must feel to see you-" he added, caressing his knuckles down the curve of her side and up again to cup beneath her breasts in a gentle massage. Among Fire-Breathers - reds, golds, and brass - a large chest was a sought-after trait in a mate; it meant a larger firebreath. There was reason for Kalarys being such a busty lass - Fire-Breathers held two extra lungs in their upper chests, breath-organs, and being cursed as a child with her flame suppressed, Kalarys had exercised them day and night simply to show a huff of smoke.
Again, another story to tell... there are a lot of those.
The hands of her mate had learned her body well, Kalarys almost dropping her rigid composure fully to melt against him. "
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