Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: The Adventures of Skadi, Eric, Fayt and Ashe.

Fayt sat on the grass his legs crossed and closed his eyes concentrating on the Void to clear his mind even out in the wilderness Fayt maintained his ritual of meditating before sleep. Fayt was soon deep in his meditative state which distracted him from the gnawing in his stomach for food, Eric moved toward the wood and collected dead branches and tinder for a fire. He grabbed some stones and made a small ring before placing the wood and the tinder inside the small ring, Ashe I need a spark. he said to the mage. He didn't feel like staring into darkness. Hunger was gnawing at Eric as well but he ignored it another hunger could be satisfied once the mage and Cleric were asleep.
Thread: The Adventures of Skadi, Eric, Fayt and Ashe.

It was time for him to show them what he could do. Proof that he was worth something. Proof that he was a mage worth having in their crew. He nodded once at the warrior before approaching the lump of dead branches. Simple magic like this didn't need some powerful amulet to control. He dragged his pointer finger along one of the branches and a steady, growing fire trailed behind it. He lifted his finger and dusted it against his pants before sitting outside of the small ring with a content expression on his face. The fire began eating the other branches, consuming them and raging larger until it became a suitable size. Something so destructive could be so very useful. He'd have to remember that. Skadi was unimpressed. Something about that mage made him uneasy. So he could light a fire, great-- what about taking out enemies? Fire magic was meant to destroy, and he'd seen nothing to prove that the mage was worth keeping around for that purpose. Not that the rogue had displayed much of his own talents.. but he'd get to that. He had plenty of them, after all.
Thread: The Adventures of Skadi, Eric, Fayt and Ashe.

Sorry for the Long wait been scraping some money together for Assassin's Creed 3 and Halo 4 Eric tossed some more dead branches onto the fire and walked out into the deepening shadows that now surrounded the camp save for the small circle of light the fire created. Eric found a spot and waited watching the road in case the guards came after them. Fayt finished his meditation and laid down to sleep as close to the fire as he could get without singing his clothes as a cold wind began to blow through the trees. Out in the woods wolves began to howl some were closer while the majority were far off, Eric was listening to them in case they drew closer but they were moving off. The hours passed by slowly and Eric found himself hoping the wizard would fall asleep soon so he could have some fun with Skadi.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

When she was given the news, she was not happy. Well, not happy was putting it lightly in the extreme. To be married to a barbarian that she did not know and did not love. Some brute. She constantly thought that if she were but a boy, things would turn out differently. Then she would rage through contrysides and demand what she wanted. She woke on the day of her marriage. It had been several days since she last ate. Hoping that if the king saw her wasting away, he would think twice and fight for his daughter. But today was proof he cared naught for his only daughter in a family full of sons. Leaning up, she rubbed her eyes and groaned and looked out at the cold scape of winter outside her window. As if sensing she was awake, the king stormed in and ordered her to eat before she dressed. She just grinned a malicious grin to the king. Or else what? Hmm? Or you will beat me? I am pretty sure that the big Brute Oriza will not be pleased with bruises on me that he did not place himself. She threw her head high and stood up. The king growled and turned leaving her in peace. She looked at the mirror and put her hands on her hips. She took in her form. She was never the shrinking violet. She was beautiful, but not one of the thin wispy wraiths that she saw in other kingdoms. She had a form that, in her opinion, was more suited for outside riding horses and sword fighting. But those were boy activities. She enjoyed reading books. That was one of the guilty pleasures she had. And only one of the few things she packed for herself. The maids came forward and began to fuss over her hair and put make up on her so the dark circles from her nights of sleeplessness, would not be seen. Then came the corset. She gasped as she was strapped securely into the white leather. She bit her lip as she was slipped into a blue wedding dress with an ivory satin cloak to keep her warm. Princess Brae was far from desireable to any of the available suitors in the kingdom. She was too independent of a thinker and that scared many men. Brae's skin was fair and her hair was golden. Her lips were painted red. When she was ready, she was guided to her own steed. It was a white mare with white mane. She climbed on top without help and after a glare from her father, she rode side saddle. She sighed and urged her horse forward as she raised her chin. Soon she would see the barbarians on the hill. She frowned. Her blue eyes as cold as the surrounding snow drifts. When she arrived, she smiled and slid off her horse rather than waiting for a hand to help her down. Best to come off as unappealing as possible to the brutes.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

The cold wintery wind did little to move the braid-work tail Oriza wore that day, it hung straight to the middle of his back, pulling the hair off his clean shaven face. He watched the emissaries approach up the hill to great them, his eye on the lady upon the fair horse, her own hair and features just as fair. That was not to imply delicate and the Avar lord was pleased they did not send some scanty woman to fulfill their promise. He would have been displeased to receive a tribute that would have been more likely to die in her first winter back in his homelands. A hint of a smile greeted the right side of his face, showing his personal pleasure in this woman as a rightful wife of his. Standing and lifting a leg to dismount, the belly strap of his saddle protested his weight with a groan of resentment, but the item did not budge as Oriza dismounted his steed. He enjoyed that moment, when it was but her and he alone on foot while many contingents of people sat atop horse watching this event unfold. It was a short moment, disrupted when an elderly warrior, still tone but with much evidence of warfare upon his face, dismounted to join his lord. His grizzled hair was pulled back as well, displaying his cool eyes, one blue the other gray under a caved in brow line with a scar running from forehead to his cheek. When this man approached, Oriza spoke aloud. He spoke in his own tongue, not attempting the language of the Franks, nor the more common tongue of the Empire Latin. It was a loud, deep whisper of a language, with ch, sh, s, and ds seeming prominent. One could relate it to a drunken slur if it were in their native tongue. To the Avar, it was easily understood, it was their language. Oriza spoke at length and then the old warrior translated, speaking the Frankish language. Oriza of Ayi, son of Bulwar the Terror, Great Khan of the Avar, Khan of the Mongol Empire, Destroyer of Constantinople, Bringer of the Dark Night, Lord of the Sibui Forest, and Gift-Giver of the Gods, gladly accepts tribute from the Frankish lords, claiming what is rightfully his, extending his dominion on Earth. He is pleased to take the hand of the princess to affirm this understanding between our peoples, to consecrate that union in binding marriage and bids welcome to the Franks to the ceremonies of this union. Striding forward then, Oriza looked over Brae as if looking over a prospective mount or livestock, the hint of a smile having faded. After a pass around, he lifted his olive-hazel eyes to meet with the blue of hers then he speaks softly to her. Again, he spoke in his common tongue, a husky whisper intended for her. The old warrior lifted a brow when he heard that utterance, not so much at what was said but rather that he doesnt hear enough to make it out nor translate what Oriza is telling to his bride to be. Then, in that soft voice, he spoke in Latin that she may hopefully understand him. You make a fitting wife, tonight you will be mine. There is more he might of said, it lingers in his eyes, but his role as lord of many peoples keeps his words short to Brae.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. He is just a brute Brae, don't be afraid. This was her mantra to herself. She watched the warrior dismount. He was not a brute, he was a mountain. But she kept her eyes normal and impassive. Think of something else Brae. Think of anything else. But all that came to mind was a fairy tale that she had packed in her saddle bags. Of Beauty and her Beast. However, she thought it very unlikely that this man would turn into a prince charming any time soon. Maybe after the strong drink she knew was common in his lands. Used to get a woman to feel very saucy and climb into a tent with a man and then keeping themselves warm. She had read a diary of a man who had been accepted into a barbaric clan similar to Oriza's. Brae had heard of this language before, but she had not been schooled in it. She only knew a few exclamations and that was it. Only what the writers of diaries felt they should put in from this language. She canted her head and then looked at the elder who was to translate and raised an eyebrow. Trying to compensate for something with that title? She asked in her own language, rolling her eyes and then up to the heavens. Her father would probably only remain to make sure the oaths were said and once she was legally his, he would be off. Then he began to pace around her like he was a buzzard. She half expected Oriza to insist to take her lips and spread them to inspect her teeth. Are you serious right now!? She looked up at him and crossed her arms. What are you a lord or a damned vulture!? She said in Latin so he could understand. She growled back to him so only he could hear as she wrapped an arm around him and gave him a hug, a hug a woman of her land was inspected to give to her lord when he accepted her hand. I don't think you can handle me. She then stepped back and looked at him knowing he probably said some crude and very rude words to her. She frowned and then began to take off her thick mittens and then put them in a pocket in her robe and held out her hands and looked at Ozira. She expected him to take her hands so she could get the ceremony overwith. Her father didn't dismount from his horse as he shifted a bit impatiently. Her hood was pulled still over her ears and face to keep herself warm. She smiled and looked down as it began to snow. Definitely now, no one would stay behind. The vows and then her family and all the people she ever knew would leave.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

As she turned tables on Oriza, the large man stood silently, letting her respond to him. Even as a chuckle escaped from his warrior friend who know well the languages she spoke, the Great Khan of the Avar simply stood measuring but only of her eyes. The translator and veteran warrior whom had accompanied Oriza was in good spirits already after she had pondered his title, either affirming he was overcompensating or, perhaps, he had earned the titles and more. Oriza physical measuring completed, he now weighed the worth of this womans character or so it would seem. He kept looking into her eyes as she stepped up to hug his frame and while he didnt wrap his arms around her, Oriza did canter his head and neck down into her hug. As if over the woman with hints of a defensive position or possessive even. Even as she stepped back to offer her hand so they may proceed with the ceremony, he was little touched by the snow, light at first. It but flecked up his mane of black hair in that ponytail, turning to light droplets of water on his face as he sent out roiling breathes of steam in the chill air. Finally he took that hand, and a Kasis stepped forward, to perform the pagan rituals of binding as customary between husband and wife of the Avar. She was no more a western woman and the marriage customs of her people meant little to the Khaganate of the Avar. His large hand simply enfolded with hers so that the ceremony could begin as the snow began to blanket the ground. Ribbons and fine cloth in streams were then used to wrap their arms together. Oriza listened to the ceremony with respect to his elders and ancestors, but amidst the ceremony he grinned to say to his bride to be. I am the vulture, said Oriza in Latin, quietly amidst the song and prayer of the hooded Kasis while the Kutrigar contingent kneeled in reverence, having dismounted their horses. There was no show of force towards the Franks to comply, they could observe as best they saw for the Avar and the Kutrigar cared not for Frankish customs. Who takes what he wants that his family grows strong I am the Great Bear. Then a glance down at Brae, You are feisty woman, I like this. We shall see soon enough how well I handle you.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

Brae looked down and frowned. When he took his hands, his fingers were warm. Not because they had been in gloves, like hers, but he was naturally warm. She canted her head and looked at him. It was so odd. It was like he was the sun's son or something. She shifted a bit and watched his breath form before him. She swallowed hard. When the ceremony started, Brae could not help but feel so close to tears. She was just a bargaining chip. Just a creature to make sure that he remained comfortable with her brothers and him. She did not want to be tied so close to this man, but irregardless to her eyerolls, she was tied with him. The knots were intricate and then they slowly moved over their bodies. Just to their chest. This was very interesting however. She would write it in her journal later. Maybe one day, she could warn several girls generations from now. Looking into Oriza's face, she frowned hearing him agree with her. Well, Great Bear, pardon me for saying, but I think your hypermasculinity is giving hints to your lacking 'abilities'. She shook her head back. She then looked at the Kasis. She was lighting herbs on fire and began to walk around them in a circle waving the smoke. She did not understand how she was supposed to take a ceremony seriously when she didn't even understand what the hell she was being told. Her irritability was raising. Finally the logic in her head piped up. Well Brae, you didn't eat. Her stomach roared in protest and was curious as to when she ate.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

A rumble of a laugh teased in Orizas throat and, even as the ceremony proceeded and the Kasis blessed them with smoke from the burning herbs, the large man turned to look down at Brae, now intertwined from arms up to their chests. You are an expert then on the prowess of men? I am in luck, surely you have much to teach me little one. Then he chuckled a little more, letting his breath mingle with the rising herb smoke from the incense burner the Kasis was carrying. As the ceremony proceeded, he said little else up until her stomach roared protest. There were grins around from Orizas men, no embarrassment at all but rather agreement. Oriza himself said a few words to the Kasis in his native tongue, the priest looked curiously at the warrior-king and then jumped into a few litanies that came out hastily. As the Kasis hurried to finish, Oriza offered again, in Latin, to his soon to be wife, Our bellies shall be full soon enough. And then, it wasnt long before the ceremony was concluded. There is more ritual, said Oriza, But we can attend to those matters after weve had our fill, no? It was directed at Brae, who had the protesting stomach. Their arms still intertwined, he nodded to the old translator that know the Frankish tongue, suggesting he bring her horse next to his own. It would seem they would ride together for a short while as husbandwife, perhaps part of those rituals, but also it was the quickest way to the festivities just the same.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

Brae was a bit peeved at his laugh. How dare a brute laugh at her. No, not an expert, just smart enough to know when a man is trying to feed me bullshit. I think that's what you sell. She growled glaring at him. Her blue eyes taking on a coldness that rivaled the snow falling around them. She sighed and then felt her feet begin to protest. God, how she longed for her riding boots right now and not the silly contraption that the maids insisted she wear. She shifted. Could this get any worse? Apparently it could. Her stomach betrayed her. The men were grinning at her like she was like one of them. A common brute. She looked at the Kasis as the priest looked at her and then to him then back again. What did he say? But she noticed at last a nod from the Kasis and then he quickly began to speed up. I am not worried about my belly. She snorted in disgust. When the ceremony was concluded, she looked back at her father, willing him to do anything, but he just nodded and turned the horses and left in the opposite way that they themselves were going. Rejection and betrayal burned at her heart as she watched her family and the loyals to the crown leave her. Now she was truly alone. The cold seemed to bite more and all her pain and discomfort only hurt a bit more. She would have gone after him, but her arm was tied securely to Oriza. She felt the need to cry. The urge to cry. But she would not allow herself. She just stood there facing her fathers retreating back in shock. She felt him move behind her and talk. Whatever. She said and frowned as followed him. She had no choice in the matter anyway. She looked up at his large black steed as they approached. She would no doubt not get her privacy for a long time, she had to remain strong until then.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

With horses close and the now husband and wife ready to mount, it seemed a tricky matter at first. But with one foot into the stirrup and moving the other foot up, close to in unison, others helped to encourage the horses to sidestep so that it was actually easy. It seemed wherever the horses where touched, the sidestepping was a natural reaction thus making it easier. Already, snow was accumulating on the saddles they had abandoned for the ceremony. As they rode, away from the rest of his men, it afforded a moment alone. Alone enough to talk, with the thickening snowfall, the fog off the morning ground, and the distance between his men, it was bordering quiet between the two of them. Brae, he began, saying her name for the first time, You know little of the world beyond your walls. He meant the city of Paris, not merely whatever manse her father had dwelled in along with her up until this day. I would not tarnish my honor by lying to you. As they rode eastward away from the city, his chin jutted out towards the horizon, My lands, my vassals, my titles they are not meant to impress you. I am not here to court you your father has decided for you that we would marry. This has come to pass. Then for a moment he turned in his saddle to look at her next to him, his green eyes searching for her blue eyes. I will open your eyes, implying perhaps that rather than take the words of others or himself, that Oriza may let his actions speak for him if she would give him a chance but using his own words that could well be misinterpreted. If all I have told you proves to be a lie, then you shall live many horrible years as my wife. I tell you now, I will enjoy this union whether or not you do. The pavilions of the fete were looming close as the rode.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

She frowned. It was tricky. She was not sure how the horses responded so well to the touch from the barbarians. She sighed and winced when she was finally on her horse. Abandoning the idea of side saddle, she rode like she had noticed several of the Barbarian women rode like their men. She shifted so she was as comfortable as she could be while she felt the ice seep through her undergarments and to her legs. She looked ahead, her hood was hiding a great deal of her face from him as they rode side by side. When he said her name, something jolted inside of her. Not an altogether unpleasant feeling. She frowned and then swallowed listening to him. Then I won't lie to you, I know plenty of the world beyond my walls. While I might have not set foot there, I have traveled in my mind via certain books. She frowned and looked ahead and smiled as he told her that his titles weren't supposed to impress her. She turned to him and snorted. And yet you carry them around and flaunt them as boldly as a peacock flaunts his own feathers. Tell me, Bear King, did you think I would go weak in the knees? Were you hoping for some princess beauty? Soft and meek? She looked at his green eyes. Her blue eyes just looked more hurt than cold now. But something soothed her looking into those green eyes. What have you told me that could possibly be a lie? She looked ahead at the pavilions. Lord knew of the heathen rituals she would be expected to undertake. But tell me this, how are we supposed to be happy if we are not even speaking a language that is comfortable for either of us? She knew Latin, she just didn't care for the way it felt on her tongue.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

As Oriza listened to the woman talk, his forearm flexed as if to mirror ripples of thoughts running through his mind as she questioned him. His eyebrows rested solemnly atop his olive-hazel eyes, showing contemplation at the womans words rather than any scorn or contempt that she would question him. It is all that we have, responded Oriza finally, still speaking Latin. Unless you have learned my language from your books I do not speak your native tongue Brae. It was matter of fact, his face forward to the pavilion as the continued to ride. His attitude blas on the topic. Until we find such a language that is as free upon our lips as the hawk upon the winds, we must speak this language of dead men. They were nearing the area to dismount, others were approaching to help them off their horses and into the pavilion. As for titles, it is no different than what your kings record in their books, only in the far east, it is standard to add such titles as poetry, lest one offends another. Just before they are helped off, he reaches his hand over towards her thigh and grasps it, bringing her own hand in with his as he does that gesture. Sharing another look, if she would meet his gaze, he says, I do not expect you to go weak or be awed, I expect you to act freely as your spirit guides you. I do not want to cow a woman beneath the furs. Meaning to force her to bed against her will, However, if you had been such a woman, I would still have taken you eventually, regardless, as would be my want, such is the right of a husband.
Thread: Tribute and Dowry

I will strive to learn your tongue then. I know only swears and exclamations like. She thought and rubbed her horses neck and in his tongue fluently she shouted into the winds. YOUR MOTHER HAS LAID WITH MANY A PIG. She shrugged and blushed looked at him and shrugged continuing in Latin. But, if I were to try to talk, I would probably say many a thing wrong such as, my Toads are hung from my corset or something like that. She smiled weakly and looked at him. When he pulled the horses to a halt, and the people came ot help them down, she blushed a bit as the man touched her thigh and she looked into those green eyes. Brae opted to feel offended, but her heart was racing. That was a touch that could quell and tame a horse. She looked at him and leaned close to him. Then what was it that you were after Bear King? She raised an eyebrow looking at him. She then stopped as men came up. Um, I have boots in my bag, I would really like it if I could switch my shoes before I have a blister rubbed into my feet. She said and motioned with her free hand to the saddle bag. Or is that too weird of a request? She looked at the men and some women.