u/ultravioletgw

By the third day on the Dessarin, Aurelia knew the boat by sound. The loose board near the stern gave a little whine whenever someone stepped on it. The hull answered the river in slow creaks, wood shifting against current. It was a dull sort of noise, but constant enough that it settled into her bones.

In the five days since she left the High Forest, she had traveled by wagon, canal boat, and foot. It wasn't her first choice, but other passage had been refused to her: no shipmaster would agree to sail to Waterdeep with a passenger who clearly hadn’t spent much time on the open water, and no caravan took on people who didn’t pay an upfront fee.

How would it have gone if Mathieu were here? He would have brought them passage without fail. The man could charm the bark off a tree if he wanted to, yet he was halfway across the Realms and well out of reach.

She touched the metal links woven into her braid, the same chains she had once bound there in the High Forest enclave. The high elves had laughed at the gesture—“How earnest, she’s trying”—and the memory still stung like a fresh cut. She had worn it anyway, a stubborn claim to something they insisted was not hers. Now it traveled with her west, the only piece of that place she had refused to leave behind.

The river ran between long stretches of mudbank, reeds, and bare willow. Pines rose where the ground held firm. On the far bank, a bear stood half in shadow, watching the water without moving. Aurelia shifted her weight at the rail, the loose board giving its quiet complaint beneath her boot. One hand rested beneath her cloak, thumb pressed lightly against the cord at her throat. The pendant lay cold against her skin, as it always did.

She had never asked Mathieu what the shard was. He had never offered. It had been enough that it felt… certain. Like a direction she could not quite name, but never doubted.

The boat rounded a bend. Water struck the hull, sharper here, and she reached into her cloak. The folded map had softened at the seams. She drew it out, glanced at the ink mark near the western hills, then folded it away again.

She had bought the parchment in Yartar from a teamster with sour breath and red-rimmed eyes. North of Leilon, he had said. Old stones in the hills. He’d talked easily enough, right up until she asked if he’d been there himself. Then he’d shrugged it off, wiped his hands on his coat, and found something else to say.

By the time the boat scraped against the bank, the town had resolved itself into mud, wagons, stock pens, and the smell of damp straw gone bad. Aurelia stepped ashore with her pack over one shoulder and the bow wrapped against the river wet.

The locals of Triboar were quiet people. Most of the carts were unattended. A few farm hands lingered outside, not idle exactly, but without urgency or aim. A pair of drovers looked at her too long and then lost interest. Other voices drifted over; accents and pitches. Triboar was an older settlement, and travelers of every stripe passed through, some down off the evergreen climes of the Evermoors, others heading south toward Westbridge. One wagon had a cracked axle. Another sat too low on one side from bad loading. She passed both. The third belonged to an older driver hitching his team in no great hurry, grey at the beard and easy-eyed.

Aurelia approached the wagon, one hand at the bow. The horses nickered and lowered their heads to nose at her. The driver looked up, not alarmed exactly, but with an air of expectation that suggested he'd been waiting for someone.

"The road south," she said. "How is it?"

He rubbed a gloved hand against his chin. "Not good, m'lady. Wagons have gone missing. Horses too. Some say bandits. Others say worse." He hesitated, as if unsure whether to say more, then seemed to think better of it. "I'm for Neverwinter myself. Got business in the city, I do. If you need passage, I can take you."

The honorific landed like a small, familiar thorn. She hated how easily it slipped from strangers' tongues, as if her blood announced itself before she ever opened her mouth. Still, she kept her voice even. "If I had coin to spare, I'd pay well."

The driver shook his head. "Don't need to pay."

"I’m no beggar," she said flatly.

"You're not," he agreed. "But the road's not safe and you've got a bow. If I run into trouble, it's your job to get me out."

"You'll have my arrows, then," she answered.

He grinned, quick and open. "Good enough. We'll leave at first light."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+

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

I’m looking for a GM/DM to guide a fantasy odyssey rooted in exploration, discovery, and character-driven storytelling. Aurelia is an adventurer and antiquarian, seeking out forgotten places and lost relics. I’m interested in a world that can grow outward from that, where danger, mystery, and discovery may eventually give way to larger forces like politics, power, and courtly drama as her journey unfolds.

While the core of the game is exploration, mystery, character growth, and a slowly unfolding larger plot, I’m very much interested in mature/sexual content that arises naturally from the story and character dynamics. Smut isn’t the main focus, but it’s welcome and can become prominent when the tension and relationships call for it.

I love to worldbuild, creating characters and locations, as well as drawing. I enjoy picking people’s minds and getting creative input so we make a world that feels like both of ours. (I may need a bit of help crafting parts of the setting from time to time.)

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

I tend to write in first person (and sometimes third), usually 3–5 paragraphs per post depending on the moment. My focus is on emotional texture, internal conflict, worldbuilding, and the subtle push and pull between characters. Open to discussing kinks, limits, and story direction OOC.

If this sounds like your kind of game and you enjoy collaborative worldbuilding with strong narrative + heat, shoot me a message! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the hook (there are more hooks and hidden knives beyond this) and discuss limits/kinks/direction.

Thanks again :p

By the third day on the Dessarin, Aurelia knew the boat by sound. The loose board near the stern gave a little whine whenever someone stepped on it. The hull answered the river in slow creaks, wood shifting against current. It was a dull sort of noise, but constant enough that it settled into her bones.

In the five days since she left the High Forest, she had traveled by wagon, canal boat, and foot. It wasn't her first choice, but other passage had been refused to her: no shipmaster would agree to sail to Waterdeep with a passenger who clearly hadn’t spent much time on the open water, and no caravan took on people who didn’t pay an upfront fee.

How would it have gone if Mathieu were here? He would have brought them passage without fail. The man could charm the bark off a tree if he wanted to, yet he was halfway across the Realms and well out of reach.

She touched the metal links woven into her braid, the same chains she had once bound there in the High Forest enclave. The high elves had laughed at the gesture—“How earnest, she’s trying”—and the memory still stung like a fresh cut. She had worn it anyway, a stubborn claim to something they insisted was not hers. Now it traveled with her west, the only piece of that place she had refused to leave behind.

The river ran between long stretches of mudbank, reeds, and bare willow. Pines rose where the ground held firm. On the far bank, a bear stood half in shadow, watching the water without moving. Aurelia shifted her weight at the rail, the loose board giving its quiet complaint beneath her boot. One hand rested beneath her cloak, thumb pressed lightly against the cord at her throat. The pendant lay cold against her skin, as it always did.

She had never asked Mathieu what the shard was. He had never offered. It had been enough that it felt… certain. Like a direction she could not quite name, but never doubted.

The boat rounded a bend. Water struck the hull, sharper here, and she reached into her cloak. The folded map had softened at the seams. She drew it out, glanced at the ink mark near the western hills, then folded it away again.

She had bought the parchment in Yartar from a teamster with sour breath and red-rimmed eyes. North of Leilon, he had said. Old stones in the hills. He’d talked easily enough, right up until she asked if he’d been there himself. Then he’d shrugged it off, wiped his hands on his coat, and found something else to say.

By the time the boat scraped against the bank, the town had resolved itself into mud, wagons, stock pens, and the smell of damp straw gone bad. Aurelia stepped ashore with her pack over one shoulder and the bow wrapped against the river wet.

The locals of Triboar were quiet people. Most of the carts were unattended. A few farm hands lingered outside, not idle exactly, but without urgency or aim. A pair of drovers looked at her too long and then lost interest. Other voices drifted over; accents and pitches. Triboar was an older settlement, and travelers of every stripe passed through, some down off the evergreen climes of the Evermoors, others heading south toward Westbridge. One wagon had a cracked axle. Another sat too low on one side from bad loading. She passed both. The third belonged to an older driver hitching his team in no great hurry, grey at the beard and easy-eyed.

Aurelia approached the wagon, one hand at the bow. The horses nickered and lowered their heads to nose at her. The driver looked up, not alarmed exactly, but with an air of expectation that suggested he'd been waiting for someone.

"The road south," she said. "How is it?"

He rubbed a gloved hand against his chin. "Not good, m'lady. Wagons have gone missing. Horses too. Some say bandits. Others say worse." He hesitated, as if unsure whether to say more, then seemed to think better of it. "I'm for Neverwinter myself. Got business in the city, I do. If you need passage, I can take you."

The honorific landed like a small, familiar thorn. She hated how easily it slipped from strangers' tongues, as if her blood announced itself before she ever opened her mouth. Still, she kept her voice even. "If I had coin to spare, I'd pay well."

The driver shook his head. "Don't need to pay."

"I’m no beggar," she said flatly.

"You're not," he agreed. "But the road's not safe and you've got a bow. If I run into trouble, it's your job to get me out."

"You'll have my arrows, then," she answered.

He grinned, quick and open. "Good enough. We'll leave at first light."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+

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

I’m looking for a GM/DM to guide a fantasy odyssey rooted in exploration, discovery, and character-driven storytelling. Aurelia is an adventurer and antiquarian, seeking out forgotten places and lost relics. I’m interested in a world that can grow outward from that, where danger, mystery, and discovery may eventually give way to larger forces like politics, power, and courtly drama as her journey unfolds.

While the core of the game is exploration, mystery, character growth, and a slowly unfolding larger plot, I’m very much interested in mature/sexual content that arises naturally from the story and character dynamics. Smut isn’t the main focus, but it’s welcome and can become prominent when the tension and relationships call for it.

I love to worldbuild, creating characters and locations, as well as drawing. I enjoy picking people’s minds and getting creative input so we make a world that feels like both of ours. (I may need a bit of help crafting parts of the setting from time to time.)

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

I tend to write in first person (and sometimes third), usually 3–5 paragraphs per post depending on the moment. My focus is on emotional texture, internal conflict, worldbuilding, and the subtle push and pull between characters. Open to discussing kinks, limits, and story direction OOC.

If this sounds like your kind of game and you enjoy collaborative worldbuilding with strong narrative + heat, shoot me a message! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the hook (there are more hooks and hidden knives beyond this) and discuss limits/kinks/direction.

Thanks again :p