E
EquinoxSol
Guest
Original poster
Dimaethor let out a heavy sigh at her words. He would be imprisoned to the same house for upwards of one or two years. He would end up insane by them. Dimaethor had always hated being cooped up. Even when he had gotten older he loved to explore, and couldn't stand being holed up in the castle for too long. Oftentimes, he would walk in the castle gardens to clear his head, as the plants and fresh air always made him feel clear-headed after working inside for hours on end.
After a second, he changed the subject, staying, "You have not won the war. The king still lives, and resides in the Capitol, with men tenfold the number you saw here, and walls twice as tall." He refused to look at her for too long, not wanting to be pulled in by her elvish charms and beauty. He would not give in.
-----
Not too long had passed when the same human from earlier knocked and entered, handing him a scroll and calling him, "Lord Oriske." Making a face, he resisted the urge to release his shadows and destroy the man, not wanting to give them another reason to want to kill him. Breaking the wax seal, he read the writing, and soon had placed it on his father's desk, straightening some loose books and papers. His father was never known to be a tidy person, but refused to let the servants clean his study, so his desk was a disaster of scrolls, books set face-down, breaking their spines, and any number of odds and ends that collected upon his desk. Setting some of the books on the shelves, he said to his siblings, "I'm going to the Hall of Kings. You might have to make dinner yourselves, but stick together. There's no telling what these human bastards will do." The curse elicited a laugh from Jaeh, who never heard his father curse, and thought it amusing when adults swore.
Oriske left, but not without taking the sword that was underneath his father's desk. Hooking it to his belt, he left, soon finding himself in a long hallway devoid of soldiers. On the walls were paintings of every lord of Reaven, from the first to Dimaethor. And soon, as per tradition, Oriske would have a painting done of him. Walking down the hall, he soon found himself in front of his father's painting, which depicted him with a soft, loving smile. Reaching up, Oriske touched it lightly, a sad light coming to his eyes.
Taking his hand back, he sighed, already missing his father, wherever he was.
-----
Once in his own room, Failen changed into fresh clothes, trying to ignore the empty bed at the other end of the room. The servants all shared rooms, but Failen's roommate had left to fight for his lord. He was probably dead.
Once dressed, he found Serena and Lyra, the daughters of Dimaethor, and asked where their elder brother was. As soon as they told him, he was off, soon finding him in the Hall of Kings, assuming his duties once more, not trusting the humans.
After a second, he changed the subject, staying, "You have not won the war. The king still lives, and resides in the Capitol, with men tenfold the number you saw here, and walls twice as tall." He refused to look at her for too long, not wanting to be pulled in by her elvish charms and beauty. He would not give in.
-----
Not too long had passed when the same human from earlier knocked and entered, handing him a scroll and calling him, "Lord Oriske." Making a face, he resisted the urge to release his shadows and destroy the man, not wanting to give them another reason to want to kill him. Breaking the wax seal, he read the writing, and soon had placed it on his father's desk, straightening some loose books and papers. His father was never known to be a tidy person, but refused to let the servants clean his study, so his desk was a disaster of scrolls, books set face-down, breaking their spines, and any number of odds and ends that collected upon his desk. Setting some of the books on the shelves, he said to his siblings, "I'm going to the Hall of Kings. You might have to make dinner yourselves, but stick together. There's no telling what these human bastards will do." The curse elicited a laugh from Jaeh, who never heard his father curse, and thought it amusing when adults swore.
Oriske left, but not without taking the sword that was underneath his father's desk. Hooking it to his belt, he left, soon finding himself in a long hallway devoid of soldiers. On the walls were paintings of every lord of Reaven, from the first to Dimaethor. And soon, as per tradition, Oriske would have a painting done of him. Walking down the hall, he soon found himself in front of his father's painting, which depicted him with a soft, loving smile. Reaching up, Oriske touched it lightly, a sad light coming to his eyes.
Taking his hand back, he sighed, already missing his father, wherever he was.
-----
Once in his own room, Failen changed into fresh clothes, trying to ignore the empty bed at the other end of the room. The servants all shared rooms, but Failen's roommate had left to fight for his lord. He was probably dead.
Once dressed, he found Serena and Lyra, the daughters of Dimaethor, and asked where their elder brother was. As soon as they told him, he was off, soon finding him in the Hall of Kings, assuming his duties once more, not trusting the humans.