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Prophecy » Places

Places in Prophecy

This is a list of locations that can be found in Prophecy.

All Places


44 posts · 17 characters present · last post 2013-08-07 05:50:12 »

         Korak marched slowly toward the Throne room that beheld his Ruler. His metal heeled boots making soft clacks on the floor below him as his legs carried him into the Palace. He had been summoned by Bandriel, and as always, he was nearby skulking along the perimeter of the large haven of his Alpha to keep any possible threats from entry, he was after all, a Hound. Though he despised that term, Korak was a mighty Wolf, not a Hound. The scent of the outside world soon drifted from his keen nostrils and were quickly replaced with the warm, supple of what he deemed his home, it was musty scent of dust, and stone, and cloth, with a faint tinge of sweet blood and fear now and then. It was a welcoming scent, one humans couldn't detect easily, nor would it have the resonance within them as it did him.

As Korak sauntered through, he'd look at each Guard, most bowing their heads and avoiding eye contact, some freezing up and becoming stiff and unweary due to The Unease, or the spirit that rested under his eyes, whispering out for their blood and flesh if they met its cold and predatory gaze. A smirk would cross his strong-jawed maw each time as his black-bear fur coat flew behind him. The male was glad in light and nearly grizzled leather armor, his left arm and shoulder devoid of any clothing or armor other than strap in which his cloak linked to his body. A soft stubble of facial hair covered his chin and cheeks, but otherwise he was well-groomed, odd for a wolf. Tribal tattoos trailed along his neck, words and phrases, names of the greater creatures he had slain in his hunts. His right hand rested on the golden and emerald pommel of his heavy blade that lay in its sheath upon his side.

Korak pushed the great doors of the Throne apart with ease, his walk was poised and confident, nearly as confident as the voice that rang through the halls. "You called, majesty?" . There was no disrespect in that voice, nor disdain, only sincerity and that icy cold tinge of his tribal accent, still remaining after all these years. Upon nearing the Throne, he'd stop next to the Witch, who had already entered, dropping into a kneel before looking up at the Queen, his eyes reaching for hers for a brief moment before turning and starting at Giddeon. A cold, icy scare accompanied by The Unease from the creature within. After a few more moments of kneeling, he'd rise slowly and await her golden, powerful words. His ears still listening for anything else approaching Her throne.