Beyond ages there lived Queen Chilli, a victrix in the southern kingdom opposed to cold north, and overcame the blood feud. King Mort retired to enthrone Brandy and Chilli, his daughters the Red Heelers who were supposed to reign Renyil together, entreat to turn the corner to do what is fair, and he was glad whom revered them. In the first time of supremacy, they held a feast to accede as the days of old at east flank of a mountain tilting to the verge of a seashore. Mort bid the Blue Heelers from Orymoria across the sea; Chris, Bob, Rad, Bandit, and Stripe embarked seven ships. The winds pitched sails, docking them ashore abundant with Renyil ships. Guards on the right hillside bore spears and kite shields, but on the Blue Heelers' side they had no frays. Climbing the perron they met and received Brandy's welfare and was told to wait on an upland on two straightened tables. And thus the rich and poor breeds from many quarters arrived the banquet in honour both to Queen Brandy and Chilli. A wise dyadic maid, Trixie, chaperoned to keep the party calm; Chilli befriended the Greyish Heeler in terms with Bob and Mort. I'm trapped besides three majestic rulers, Trixie thought on edge.
So waiters came to serve shedloads of chickens, bacons, langoustines, and kudus. They held a feast for half the day. Amidst the festival, few males brought out instruments to play in organised band. Folks linked their arms to weave; released to twirl and link in another's arm, dancing in circles. To those who enroll were tugged in, the rascal males elicited sonorous laughters for few to throw foods and stop them. They didn't listen, they provoked them to draw swords and spar to the beat of the music. Prince Bandit, who stood aside the usurpers, bade and reach his hand if Chilli accept his dance.
And it came to pass, when the sun set west, when the folks and Bandit and Chilli finished gentleness, they settled Chilli on throne and reckoned her to rule justly to the entire Nuboth with Brandy. But neither find her, which she hid away with a turquoise mantle. "It seems Brandy don't want to be queen," said Mort beside the throne in glum, "because she finds it hard to bewield; that is why she left, she don't want to be queen. You, Chilli, inherit Renyil and run it to safety, save it from Bechiobia up north. We beseech you rule wisely." The complicated folks' murmur in the center to tag end worried Chilli distressingly. She left the cathedra to go up and up round stairs into the boudoir and brood at the window.
Seagulls squawk the sky and folks proclaimed Chilli's unease she saw on the high tower: Torches on houses spark from palace to coastal town; tailors and cooks closed shops for the night and join those wondering if she and Brandy might ever be named to rule Renyil to let Mort rest. The door knocked, Bandit came and said: "You can think betimes to bring Renyil out of misery. You have frets our ambassadors hear; and we intend to help. Without Orymoria, they will be in the north's hand; we relish not of those to be in wrong hands. The dominance require marriage to bring in the troops, and together we aid and free the slaves." For the Prince of Orymoria, Chilli saw how nice he was in both behaviour and appearance: the flecks sides his head along black ears with the patch in spine hemmed of blue fur, the colors of light blue hands and feet to one girding his tan belly, and yellow snout and black nose. Her gloom reminded there are sympathy of breeds, but she and Bandit just met the day Brandy ordained. He turned the chair to sit. "But if it's the choice not to be queen, I ought to gather mine army and attempt defeat to north."
"I will be queen," she said, to prevent his leave. "I'll determine the country. With the guilds and your delivery to feed beggars, we will exchange and retreat the Bechiobians." The indulgent prompt primmed up Chilli to know dream came to pass of taking the throne, Bandit showed her an arm to go, and they returned.
Cream feet re-enter the cathedra. They concerned her doffing cape, noticed her light brown-orange fur with spots on tail and back, brown outer ears and right side of head, and a dark-brown nose. She took the cape off to sit on the throne. Mort remit and stood before the throne, he spoke: "Of giving the kingdom over to my daughter, there are plagues which you should exempt but few to achieve, troubles in custody as she rules. I pray she will run Renyil justifiably. My crown to give is hard work, but she swear to understand. I, King Mort, reached the age to rest; I hand my crown to Chilli Heeler my daughter, to give me delight." He took the crown off his head to walk and put it on Chilli's head she inclined, smiled at her success then to redraw and knelt one knee. He'd expected the lords to yield the swords they drew to her, but never looked back. They dropped their swords and kneel. Everybody attended, for their queen is debuted. The sun in its amber time shone on the golden crown, a high bell's rung pound beyond Renyil, it approved many that they chose a Queen to live that age.
There were breeds in need of a warm climate, bleak winds give shivers to those tramping upon deep snows and ice trails often on hillocks. The body climbed down the mountain in alabaster midday when a stock alight, cueing other tribes, that, they were preparing a congress. Whence eyes seen the orange beacon fluttering awhile, a few chiefs told in their village gather to travel on foot or mount, the children ran curiously, speaking in native tongues. Fozzie Collie was the Magister to Each Court, grey and black fur, hands and feet to tail tip and chest and muzzle with inner ears as eyebrows white; the tail stem, torso and arms, outer ears and head are black. He commanded the meeting to discuss storming in Renyil. He'd wait the rabbles of black and white, copper-red and white, grey and white, and pure white Siberian Huskies' stumps in spare moment, talking to one another aggravated him to strike the cup. "Alright, that's enough." He said and they shut, and he adjusted the loose side of his sable, like others wore them in Bechiobia.
He stared around, see all ears to him, two dogs besides him. "Now, as you know, I have sent Ulva and she came not a week. She may have encountered few of the Renyes during the Removal. ...She has my regards, I hope she's fine; I can't have her captured in their row, I'll do anything to rescue your husk family, and that'll sometime mean to sacrifice if any of you are willing." The announcement from office were put about to a swarm of bemused dogs out the snowy condition. There were thousands more than Renyil thinks. The lengthy side roads set besides two mountains, where the office between held the congress. "Let's, perhaps, check on the tribe taken Gliron, see how they're doing."
"What do you think?" the chief stepped in, triple thick fur. Voice guttural, "There's a Queen in Renyil, now, and she has formalised Enemies from The Other. Hearsay we settle back our tribes because I'm not leaving out widows with their children out of houses." Fozzie sat there rigid, eyeing him mad and considering the tribes. With the massive party he could've help Ulva, it would plummet the multitudes to remember their loss, instead, he thought of the chief's revoke.
"Later on, we're taking villages one by one," he remarked, "but I'm not going to leave Ulva out there while the spikes are ready. Anyone who tries to stop me will suffer consequences when I come back. I'll need few of you then, to scour and find and rescue Ulva; even no matter where she is, the search party will not be long." The feeling in his bone drew him upset, reluctance heard amidst their murmuring. No, they did not want to stray more of the living. Yet they had a chance.
"Aye," a thin husky tipped, "Ulva is my cousin, and I don't want to lose her. If we're not risking all the tribes, I'm going to make an attempt saving her. I'm with you." The meeting ends with agreement, three turned to five, few of them went to prepare. Single-handed swords, both edged put in sheath, bows and arrows adraw, fingers dipped to smear their face, they put bridles to mount the horses and journeyed south through solid lands vast in snow.
During the next age, the advocates were aware that Renyil chose a Queen. These advocates were aspiring scribes, far from Gliron into the birch forest travelling to Lennyraci the state of Renyil where majesties are chosen to live. Breeds of Rottweiler, German Shepherd, Black and Tan Coonhound, Bluetik Coonhound, and a Bulldog, travelled the forest with views of mountain left, clouds and blue sky right; with the wagon, two on foot if they felt like it, and the other two handling horses. The field southwestward was pretty, plain lands wreath with daisies. A band of writers wayfare and rode through loams drawing closer to Lennyraci.
If they liked the solution to their purpose, two, the Rottweiler and German Shepherd, who started the band years ago, suggested to separate. The German Shepherd said to a Bulldog, "Austin, you and Hayden go see if there's a library so later we set up piles to read. While Sean and I find a market to buy us foods when we find a place to tarry, I don't know where, but we'll find each ourselves a spot." Austin agree, Hayden was quiet. So much that Hayden did not like being touched, rather a pat or palm; he liked personal space, and he disrelished when Austin told with a perfunctory pat. Seeing the folks in walks upon the streets for stores, stitchworks, bakery, and inns, had Hayden in a stew he wanted to be in a narrow place.
Hiking from Gliron, a home where the temple is built on a steep side of the plateau and lines of house with workstead stretch from that hill to left near the pebbly strand. Travelling on foot instead of riding got Hayden's heels aching, and worried, being around folks in Lennyraci as first time. He wanted solitude for a while. He said to Austin, "Back at home, you said you wanted to meet the queen?" Austin agreed once more. "Why not go to the palace and see her yourself, and I tour the town? It would be a surprise to both Frester and Sean if you'd brag on how she looks. I'm not good at details. Sometimes, I get lost while explaining." Austin gestured for Hayden went left the road that led him to a byway.
The perron Austin was at the bottom to start right up into the temple on a rock face, he passed many dogs through columns only to be hindered by guards at the entrance. They asked for his name and he said, "Austin Barker." The clinch is done for the muscular, hefty breed with wrinkled chin and cheeks, fawnskin colourful dog from Gliron that are also a Renye can enter. The wind pushed him a little bit gawky he asked one, "Where's the throne to meet our Queen?" And one guard almost started laughter in a snicker then both reminded that he's new in Lennyraci.
"Go up the right stairs," the white one spoke, "through the long hallway, to the left, there are other halls, and there you'll find the throne room through many doors and tunnel." Austin processed that then nod before passing.
Once he made it to the throne room, it was barely empty. No queen was on the chair. Not advisors or workers who left structures. But Austin found few females dawdling in hushed discussion and one whining on the open being restless. He noticed this lady wore a black coat, the tricolour tan, white and ruby fur, faced to the throne. "Hello?" he said as he approached.
She turned. This lady was the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel kind. Her ears flopped when she caught sight of him. "Hi," she said. "Are you one of her servant? I came to give her the message." In her hand she showed a volute. Austin said, "What? No. I'm being curious with you here, it looks like you're acting new, because, I'm also new with the band."
Austin kind of had the experience with females, but mostly, he was sometimes stuck with those writers he call friends, and learning silent with Hayden.
"Oh, my bad." She put the volute in her pocket left leg. Eyes perceiving his peers, then lingered at his feet, then to eye contact. "Yes, I'm new here. And maybe I saw you guys from behind on the way, I came other way." Austin's eyes were firm to her, she wasn't nervous, but she sweat with anticipation. She'd thought the reason the Queen is gone was, perhaps they went hunting with the Queen's sister she heard of. "I'm Lale Saifi," she said, her last resort.
It reminded Austin to reply her his name, they shook hands. Austin inquisitively walked with her on the way out, asking that she's from west, and west is her home called Paltha; she also asked of his and she mentioned it's salty with the staggering sea. On the other way out of the temple, she took hold on the rope to a horse and said to Austin, "I hope we meet soon. I don't want to be the one feeling lost here in Lennyraci. And I'd like to hear the history of it with Bechiobia, and we both can talk about it." She got on the horse, then began galloping away in the clearing. Sometimes, she'd looked back to remember him.
A strong desire for fantasy broods me long to take months, maybe I see how fantasy might be a tough genre. Comparing the historic to record novels of fantasy was annoying me, I did bad at the end of this chapter; and the inspiration was also from Chillian, I did not care about its grammar, just the mental pictures of his world building. One of the difficulties for writing fantasy is world building. I liked describing the characters' looks, the Bandit part is my favourite, and Austin Barker: the character I picked for this is created by Blooditca545. Yet the original's name was for the breed, I do different in my composition, so I did Barker because a dog "barks."
Before next chapter, along your criticism, could you inform me the Bluey's characters and their personal traits? Since I'm not able to watch the rest of season two and three, I can't see how I could use them without knowing. You'd tell along the reviews the character names one or two and tell their personality, that way I find to bring them up into this fantasy world.