The Throne Room

Subject: The Throne Room Sun Aug 12, 2012 8:11 pm

Within the dark walls of the his fortress, the Shadow King gazed at the table before him. It had on it a map of the Five Realms...

"Which one, which one?" His smooth voiced echoed off the cold stone walls that held his fortress together. "I think, Sylvia would make a nice appetizer for the legions..." He took a steel pin from his robes and slammed it into the middle of Sylvia. "Homeland or not...it must be cleansed... else i cannot unite the Realms..."

His gaze became unfocused. "Sister...I will make them all pay for what they did to you...I will make you proud by proving to them that they cannot harm my family with impunity," His face softened, "I loved you sister..." And then the anger returned, "And they took you away! Tey took you from this world...from ME! THEY TOOK YOU FROM MEEE!" He screeched and the stone around him flaked and the already peeling paint of the table began to crack into flakes and fall to the floor. He hissed in fury and whirled on the steel mannequin placed in the far corner and unleashed a rippling stream of crimson flames at the steel figure.

When he was through, the steel figure was molten...

"If only that was a REAL human..." He returned to studying the maps...

Subject: Re: The Throne Room Mon Sep 02, 2013 5:22 pm

The Dark Lord's anger abated, he's returned to studying his maps. It seems he's got his eye on Sylvia. The stone and iron-reinforced walls are old, but still seem incredibly strong and sturdy. The room appears to be medium sized and papers as scattered all about. In one remote corner, on a tiny pedestal rests a picture frame holding the image of a young elf. Her visage, due to magical enhancement, has allowed the picture and it's frame to remain nearly ageless, keeping the parchment from succumbing to the ravaging effects of time.

As the evening draws on, the Dark Lord appears to be settling on some course of action.

Subject: Re: The Throne Room Mon Oct 07, 2013 12:38 am

Kypler Flammarus, infamous Elven Sorcerer from the Fortress City of Wrendell; General of the mighty host of Elves; Outcast...

The General swore to himself, "Damn that rotten King to the bottom the Nine Hells!" This point, this title of "outcast" haunted him...He'd done what King Manteron had said...he'd turned away the hordes of enemies that knocked at his people's gates! And what happened? Hmmm? What did those fools do? Cast him out! They cast him out of his home for learning magic that they told him to! Sure, he'd dabbled in a little necromancy and was practicing on cadavers when they stumbled across his "lab" in the dungeons below the city, but he was only preparing for the next war...the next attack...Who would be able to stop waves of the undead? Who could kill those that were not living?

This was Kypler's precious skill...sorcery and necromancy. He'd fled the city he'd fought to save and now sought to bring her and her oh so might King to their knees. "And He can give me what I need to take my revenge on the blasted lot!"

Flammarus strode proudly down the dank, dark halls, his boots clicking across the mossy, slick stonework as he marched towards two large, engraved doors of iron. His maroon clothing hung just off the ground and his piercing eyes were like penetrating spears. He self-consciously ran his long, pale fingers through his soot colored hair. Then he leaned forward and pushed the doors open wide.

"You called for me, my liege?"

There, in the center of the room, black and red robes fluttering as he straightened his back from leaning over maps and charts, was the Dark Lord: Amkral Nightwalker.

"Ah, Flammarus. I pray your plan is ready?"

"Yes, Sire, it is absolutely ready. Just give the word and point out which of the realms you wish to be yours first, and it shall be done." Flammarus's skin seemed to be shiny, but it wasn't a trick of the light. It was sweat.

"Are you frightened of me, Flammarus?" The Dark Lord abandoned his maps for a moment and glided forth, towards the Elven outcast. "I can smell your fear...And it smells, " The dark elf took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a split second, savoring the moment, "Delicious..." He hissed with quiet, but demented mirth. "Why do you fear me, oh, great sorcerer?" He enjoyed this game...hearing about his own power, and delighting in the effect he had on others.

The General felt a cold shiver slither down his spine. "The wise would to well to fear you, Sire..."

Amkral bared his teeth and threw his head back, letting loose a feral laugh. "Yes, little elf, the wise would do well to fear me." He moved back towards the maps and charts, paying the other little heed. "Gather your forces, collect your power. You ride for Sylvia. Take the Fortress-City of Wrendell and and bring the Elves in that realm to me dead or alive. You may have some for you "experiments", but the rest should be executed, lest they wish to serve. If they do wish to serve, bind them with the rune-stone I gave you. If they resist, show them no mercy, just as they, and their human allies, showed my dear sister no mercy...now, GET OUT!"

Kypler couldn't leave the room fast enough, though he did try to look dignified about it...after a fashion...The war for the Realms was beginning, and he was to lead the first attack.