JustYourFantasy
Yiling Patriarch
(If interested in RPing with me, please either PM me or comment below)
What looked like a man- dressed in an elegant black three-piece suit, sat upon a black throne bi-colored eyes boring into a cowering figure at the bottom of the dias. A sneer was on his pale lips and his gloved fingers drummed against the steel throne arm, full of boredom. 'What a fool indeed.' The man thought in pure annoyance. But then he let go a deep audible sigh and stood gracefully. "Well, my dear Lord Draven... You insist on me marrying your beautiful daughter. You insist that it would be wise of me," he drawled, voice lazy. Moving down the steps without a single sound, he found himself facing the Lord's haughty daughter and he grinned a shark-like grin.
"I hate to disappoint you, my dear. But according to your father, I am a fool. For there is no chance in the Seven Realms' that I shall ever marry someone so... Bland. Idiotic. Nor power-hungry as you," with each word his venom grew. With each word, the haughty woman felt her insides twist and fear crawl up her spine; within those entrancing eyes- one a deep dark brown that could be called a void of darkness, while the other an icy blue that could freeze you on the spot, was death itself.
"Kill them both," Sarkuth said, with his voice far too happy.
Then as chaos erupted, he swept out of the throne room and down the dark corridors. After turning a few corners, the King of Death suddenly doubled over coughing, a gloved hand automatically placing itself over his mouth. Moments passed and he slowly stopped coughing and so he pulled his hand back and grimaced at the specks of blood. Damn.
"I know you are there. Come out," Sarkuth drawled, straightening before he turned and faced the best warrior in his realm; who as also his oldest friend and advisor.
What looked like a man- dressed in an elegant black three-piece suit, sat upon a black throne bi-colored eyes boring into a cowering figure at the bottom of the dias. A sneer was on his pale lips and his gloved fingers drummed against the steel throne arm, full of boredom. 'What a fool indeed.' The man thought in pure annoyance. But then he let go a deep audible sigh and stood gracefully. "Well, my dear Lord Draven... You insist on me marrying your beautiful daughter. You insist that it would be wise of me," he drawled, voice lazy. Moving down the steps without a single sound, he found himself facing the Lord's haughty daughter and he grinned a shark-like grin.
"I hate to disappoint you, my dear. But according to your father, I am a fool. For there is no chance in the Seven Realms' that I shall ever marry someone so... Bland. Idiotic. Nor power-hungry as you," with each word his venom grew. With each word, the haughty woman felt her insides twist and fear crawl up her spine; within those entrancing eyes- one a deep dark brown that could be called a void of darkness, while the other an icy blue that could freeze you on the spot, was death itself.
"Kill them both," Sarkuth said, with his voice far too happy.
Then as chaos erupted, he swept out of the throne room and down the dark corridors. After turning a few corners, the King of Death suddenly doubled over coughing, a gloved hand automatically placing itself over his mouth. Moments passed and he slowly stopped coughing and so he pulled his hand back and grimaced at the specks of blood. Damn.
"I know you are there. Come out," Sarkuth drawled, straightening before he turned and faced the best warrior in his realm; who as also his oldest friend and advisor.
