Welcome to Swords of Speirling. We are an original fantasy site, set in a fictional world divided into seven kingdoms. We are set in the Medieval-ish/Renaissance period of this world. We have 20+ playable races available, we have no word count, and we are rated mature. Our application process is simple and to-the-point and we are LGBTQ+ friendly, straight-/cisgendered-ally friendly, and ALL racial identities-friendly. We do believe in some order, but we don't take ourselves all that seriously. Jerks need not apply. It is currently WINTER.
We are currently searching for royal family members and military characters, particularly knights.
ACTIVE MEMBERS: 20
TOTAL MEMBERS: 26
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Coding Help: RCR & RPG'D
Mini Profile Code: Gotham's Reckoning of RPG
Skin: Brittanique of RPG'D
banners and site concept: Peregrine
Roman Dracarys doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: 16 October 1901
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Signature was made by Khal Drogo of Shine.
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OCCUPATION: "High King" Of Riasglach
SPECIES: Sidhe Hybrid
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single-ish
STATUS: If He gets to be the King then I get to be the High King
Joined: 21-December 14
Last Seen: Jan 13 2018, 04:13 AM
Local Time: Jan 17 2018, 09:53 AM
141 posts (0.1 per day)
( 0.82% of total forum posts )
Sep 28 2017, 07:47 PM
Roman had caught Morgan’s glance before entering the portal, but he just shrugged. He agreed that Artemis needed to go back to Riasglach, it was most likely safer for her there.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, he waited for Morgan to enter the portal with Jason. Roman did not want to be here. He didn’t want Soryn poking around his mind, or even her help, but alas, he didn’t have any other mind mages on hand. Besides, Soryn owed him. He didn’t think she would do anything too wicked to him, but he could never truly be sure.
Aug 9 2016, 05:28 PM
Roman wandered the streets with a small dragon hatchling hidden underneath his tunic. He was difficult to miss at his height. He meandered through the crowds trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was not all that easy for him. He had come here to sell the dragon hatchling. He thought it would be more funny to do up in Eacharnach where dragons were banned, but he knew ultimately the hatchling would be killed up there. Hence the reason he didn’t sell to anyone in Eacharnach.
How did he come across this hatchling? Mostly it was his black market dragon sales. Someone in Teumnach was looking for this specific kind of dragon and he just happened to have one. Word spread through the grapevine and here he was with the little hatchling in tow. The tall sidhe hybrid did not want to give the dragon up to careless or cruel owners. So he would take his time and watch the potential buyer’s interactions. He had been trailing the man for most of the morning. There had been no red flags quite yet.
Roman turned down a side street to give the little dragon some air. He let it crawl out onto his shirt. It was a small thing, a little weak looking as well. Roman stroked under its chin, and it let out a small puff of smoke. Roman had no idea how he was going to leave this little guy, but he knew he would need to.
Roman’s dire wolf’s ears perked up, someone was approaching. The direwolf had a small monkey on its back, making it look a bit comical. Roman began to sniff the air, some sort of sidhe was approaching. Which wasn't that surprising, given where he was. @Lorelei Delphi
Mar 15 2016, 06:00 PM
Roman stood on the beach staring out at the ocean. He remembered the long time ago he had first come to Speirling. Back then it had been to be as an ambassador of sorts, which gradually turned into a full time assassin/body guard once his homeland sunk into the sea. The air was thick with the smell of water, and it certainly smelt better than most of Riasglach.
He picked up a piece of broken glass from the ground, staring down at it. The glass from some mirror had been shattered. He wasn’t surprised that nobody had picked away at it. Most people in Riasglach though the beach was haunted and that there were undead beings living on the beach. Roman had his fill of the undead with his mother. A lot of the BS that was happening in Riaglach was mostly her doing.
His eyes scanned the horizon, watching the sun wane slowly into the ocean. Part of him longed to be out on the sea. He only stayed in Speirling to protect…well, everyone he had sworn to protect had died tragically. Hence the reason he had banished himself down to Riasglach. He could have easily made a name for himself in Muireach, but he preferred exile. It was the punishment he felt he deserved for failing so many people.
One of the people he had failed had sent him a letter. Despite his better judgement, Roman decided to accept the invitation, knowing full well it was most likely a trap. But Roman deserved the trap. After all, it was his fault his brother had turned into the monster that he was. Roman knew that without their sister, there was little to no hope for Godric. That slim glimmer of hope was the reason Roman would never harm his brother. He remembered how things were and how things should be.
He skidded the shard of glass on the surface of the water, knowing full well who was behind him. Punctual as always. Roman waited to see if the other man would stab him in the back or not.
Mar 12 2016, 09:29 AM
Roman was, well, being an ass. He was playing cards and the man across from him didn’t know it, but he had one of his minions standing behind him motioning to what the cards were. Roman’s minion was cloaked so the other card player couldn’t see him, but Roman could.
The high king smirked, as he placed his hand down, winning the game. The man across from him, enraged, and convinced Roman was cheating, pushed the table forward quickly. His voice was raised as he screamed and ranted about Roman cheating. Roman shrugged nonchalantly and reached out to collect his winnings. He was unable to reach them before the man, stabbed Roman in the hand with a dagger. It stung, and Roman winced. But it felt more like a bee sting than what it should actually feel like.
The high king just smiled, slowly removing the dagger from his hand with his free hand. Lifting his bleeding appendage be balled it into a fist and released it to show that his hand was completely healed. In an instant he punched the man in his face, knocking him out. several of Roman’s people went to remove the man from the backroom.
Roman lifted his glass of ale, examining the dagger, making sure it didn’t have the scent of poison or the like. It smelt clean enough, so he handed it out in the air as his minion finally appeared and sat down at the table. Roman pushed over his friend’s share of the earnings.
The two of them laughed, thoroughly enjoying their mischief. It was times like this when Roman wondered if he wasn’t secretly part goblin. He enjoyed mischief and trickery a bit too much for his mother’s sidhe/siren lineage and his father’s demigod/sidhe lineage.
Roman ordered his people another round and knew full well that he was supposed to be having a meeting with someone here later. Who it was, he hadn’t a clue. He wouldn’t put it past one of his siblings to be creeping around the Nightcat’s tourney waiting to pounce. Actually, he was surprised one of his siblings hadn’t married the Nightcat and joined him in all his mischievous glory.
Jun 16 2015, 06:42 AM
Roman lay asleep on the ground, with a large rusty dagger sticking out of his back. He wasn't in a tent, but just on the ground randomly. Not even his long arms could reach the place where his sister had so expertly placed it. So he gave up in trying to get it from his back. Members of his fellowship were roaming around the tents looking for things to steal or eat.
How did the dagger get into his back? He had been arguing with Artemis, telling her not to use her last name since King Fabulous was going to be in attendance. Naturally, his little sister didn’t listen. He just hadn’t expected her to stab a knife into his back and then run away. Roman supposed he deserved it, for trying to tell someone with 40,000 years on him what to do. At least it wasn’t Soryn, because he knew Soryn would have done much worse to him than a mere knife in his back.
Gradually, the little thorny dagger in his back just became a nuisance, rather than pain. His healing ability kept him from bleeding out. His eyes slowly began to droop and he was having trouble keeping them open. The man was starting to feel incredibly sleepy. Leave it to his sister to put some sort of troll dust onto the dagger to make him fall asleep. So she lay down on his stomach and fell asleep. Occasionally he would attempt to roll over, forcing the knife deeper into his back.
His stomach twisted and turned while he slept. Maybe it was anxiety or maybe it was the food he had pilfered from the opening feast. He had taken a great deal of the food and gorged himself on it. Even in his sleep he could feel the discontentment in his stomach. Gradually it all came to one very loud, very explosive fart that awoke even him. Groggily he opened his eyes to look around and see what the noise was.