The Castle
the centre of royal life
The castle sits at the centre of sprawling grounds containing gardens, training arenas, barracks, the royal stables and Lake Lilith, which is fed by the River Twinge. The royal guards which are stationed at various points around the territory will occasionally check fairiesí identities but are usually happy to let visitors wander around, unless the king orders otherwise. Within the castle itself, the west wing is the personal residence of the royal family, the east wing is the home of the court and the servantsí quarters on the lower levels. The castle is practically impregnable and is well-guarded against attack.


royal men
royal women
Morgana, sister of the King

Lady Alethea
Lady Styx
Captain Flynn
Lord Anapa
Lady Electra
Lady Rhyolite

Residents and Employees

Grayson, Squire
Flynn, Captain of the Royal Guard
Caldera, Royal & Alliance Guard
Dylan, Trainee Guard
Saffron Trainee Guard
Alector, Trainee Guard
Amber, Treasurer
Gavin, Artist
Danny, Royal Doctor
Graeling, Naval Navigator
Mohana, Librarian

Madeline, Housekeeper
Margaret, Kitchen Maid
Alistair, Stable Boy
Luke, Kennel Boy
Cypress, Kennel Boy
Jacopo, Kidnapper

Add your character and their personalised role via the updates board.

located here
  • Royal court: The royal court is a place for people to receive an audience with members of the royal family. Petitions can be presented to the king, connections made and events held.
  • Royal stables: The royal stables offers quality horses on lease for a variety of uses.
  • Royal schools: Children can receive private tuition or schooling here.
  • Royal library: The largest collection of written works in all of Shaman.
  • Royal hospital: The only official hospital in Shaman, this is where the sick and wounded are brought to be cared for.
  • Royal gardens: Beautiful and varied gardens which are open to the public. Includes allotments, flower gardens, and open spaces to walk or ride in.
  • Barracks: Royal and Alliance guards and soldiers live in the barracks.
  • Training arena: A well-equipped arena for knights, soldiers and guards to develop their fitness and skills.
been thrilled to fantasy one too many times

Well that was interesting...

Her fingers curled around his, and in the same breath her thoughts cut out, the line suddenly severed. He was so used to skimming the surface thoughts of those around him that the sudden solitude was momentarily disorientating.

There was something else too...something nudging insistently at the back of his mind, applying pressure where it wasn't wanted. A small innocuous voice whispered, trying to soften his resolve, encourage his compliance.

Mordred's mind was neither emotional or weak. Her magic was looking to pluck a harp frame, stringless and still. He pushed back, gently nudging the nagging little voice away. He was not to be played. The song was his choice and his choice alone.

But was the magic hers? She hadn't blocked him before, hadn't even demonstrated that she was there. He was always subtle, gentle, barely noticeable. He might have wondered if being around him, being subject to his magic, had caused something to grow in her. The mind-blocking alone could have been explained as an adaptation, a sub-conscious form of resistance.

"You're far from useless," he reassured her, keeping his grip on her hand. He permitted his brows to move, arching elegantly in an enquiring expression; intrigued and faintly in awe.

"Are you...are you doing that?" Mordred held her eye. Did she know? Or was it something still-forming? Blooming into something extraordinary. I wonder...

Releasing his grip on her hand they separated. There was a beat, and then everything was restored to normal.

"Give me your hand again," he instructed her, gently. Mordred raised his, the palm turned flat towards her. When their skin met he smiled at her. "Concentrate..."

Mordred reached for his magic and, moving his free hand through the air, conjured a small ball of fire. He pressed it into a perfect sphere and left it to float between them. It crackled, tiny flames licking tentatively at the air.

"You try," he urged her, eager to see if she could. She was a puzzle, a beautiful, powerful puzzle. There was no level of it that did not appeal to him. He had always loved magic, ever since he was a child. And since coming to the castle he had read every book he could find on the theory and practical application. This new manifestation of hers was a scholar's dream come true.

"You'll feel a warmth deep in your stomach," Mordred explained, "think about pushing it upwards and down into your fingers. Picture the flames in your mind's eye, imagine the heat on your skin, and focus."

He waited hungrily, his expression encouraging. The power was one thing, the talent to use it to its maximum potential was quite another. Raw and untrained she was fascinating...but with time.

"I don't have a lot of time..." he mused, "but I can probably find a gap in my schedule, once a week perhaps. I don't know if you know this, but before I knew who my real family were, I was alone. I taught myself to fight so I could survive, find out who I really was." He arched an elegant brow. "I could do the same for you...if you'd like."

M o r d r e d
photo by Marc-Olivier Jodoin at unsplash.com


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