Post by Zach uth Brightblade on Aug 10, 2006 20:37:14 GMT -5
Behind the throne room itself, shielded from the outside by a thick oaken door engraved with the crest of Brightblade, lie the wolf-king's own quarters. They are large, as the builders had intended so many eons ago. The room is square in shape, with a high ceiling. On the west wall is a mantle and fireplace. Upon the mantle rest small carvings, sculptures, and an occasional medal. These small decorations are crafted with seeming perfection. Indeed, their crafters were the best of their art, but they were long gone, and these works were the few remaining memories of them.
Upon the eastern wall, a window with it's own oak doors, and a sort of mini-portcullis made of pure steel for times of war. On the wall are weapons of many different makes, from every day knives to those of such strange design as to be more of a curiosity than a danger. But not to Zach. The wolf knew how to use them all, and those in his quarters were the best he had found or made.
The north wall has the main door, and two portraits. One, obviously ancient by the techniques used, is of two wolves; A male, tall and strong, standing by a seated female, a she-wolf of great beauty. Something in the way their faces have been transferred shows a glimpse of what they were like... and yet that is elusive. Only one creature could tell who they were. The white wolf told those who asked... but few beasts ever dare. The other is ancient as well, but not nearly as antiquated as it's counterpart. This one is of an old mouse. His face holds the wonders of great wisdom. Anybeast would wonder how a mere mouse could achieve this... but then, many wonders have occurred in the ages witnessed by the lord of the Castle. Once again, few beasts dared to ask of this mouse as well.
The south wall has the king's bed, and selves full of books and scrolls, in many different languages. Some dead, some so changed their old form was unrecognizable. But all were in excellent condition. There is a desk beside the shelves. On the desk rest writing materials, an oil lamp, and a sealing candle. A half written letter lies on the desk. It is written to... it's on a strange language. Perhaps the wolf prefers that it is not read by those eyes unintended.
The room has one rug, by the bed. Otherwise, it is bare stone. The perfect place to practice with the weapons on the wall. The room's sole occupant, as often is the case, is the white wolf himself. Dawn would soon stream through his window, breaking a sleepless night with golden sunbeams. The wolf had spent the night deep in thought. He was lonely... and there had been nothing needing his direct attention for days, giving him time to think... Time enough to consider how he was alienated these days. The kingdom had been set up well enough to run in his many absences. And it ran just as well when he was present. Zach sighs a great sigh as the feelings of loneliness encompass him. Then, aloud, "Perhaps the dawn will bring me respite. And then... perhaps merely a day as the night has been." He turns from his window for a moment, and glances at the portrait of the mouse. "My old friend... you would have sage words to give me. Would that the lifetimes of mice such as yourself be greater than that of my own. Wisdom such as yours was rare indeed... but gone now..." A glance at the portrait of the two wolves finds the lord of the Castle offering another sigh to the emptiness of his room. This one is laden with a deep sadness that seems to pull at the very soul of any creature who would have heard it. The wolf pulls the chair away from the desk, faces it toward the open window, sits, and waits. But for what beyond the dawn... he knows not.
Upon the eastern wall, a window with it's own oak doors, and a sort of mini-portcullis made of pure steel for times of war. On the wall are weapons of many different makes, from every day knives to those of such strange design as to be more of a curiosity than a danger. But not to Zach. The wolf knew how to use them all, and those in his quarters were the best he had found or made.
The north wall has the main door, and two portraits. One, obviously ancient by the techniques used, is of two wolves; A male, tall and strong, standing by a seated female, a she-wolf of great beauty. Something in the way their faces have been transferred shows a glimpse of what they were like... and yet that is elusive. Only one creature could tell who they were. The white wolf told those who asked... but few beasts ever dare. The other is ancient as well, but not nearly as antiquated as it's counterpart. This one is of an old mouse. His face holds the wonders of great wisdom. Anybeast would wonder how a mere mouse could achieve this... but then, many wonders have occurred in the ages witnessed by the lord of the Castle. Once again, few beasts dared to ask of this mouse as well.
The south wall has the king's bed, and selves full of books and scrolls, in many different languages. Some dead, some so changed their old form was unrecognizable. But all were in excellent condition. There is a desk beside the shelves. On the desk rest writing materials, an oil lamp, and a sealing candle. A half written letter lies on the desk. It is written to... it's on a strange language. Perhaps the wolf prefers that it is not read by those eyes unintended.
The room has one rug, by the bed. Otherwise, it is bare stone. The perfect place to practice with the weapons on the wall. The room's sole occupant, as often is the case, is the white wolf himself. Dawn would soon stream through his window, breaking a sleepless night with golden sunbeams. The wolf had spent the night deep in thought. He was lonely... and there had been nothing needing his direct attention for days, giving him time to think... Time enough to consider how he was alienated these days. The kingdom had been set up well enough to run in his many absences. And it ran just as well when he was present. Zach sighs a great sigh as the feelings of loneliness encompass him. Then, aloud, "Perhaps the dawn will bring me respite. And then... perhaps merely a day as the night has been." He turns from his window for a moment, and glances at the portrait of the mouse. "My old friend... you would have sage words to give me. Would that the lifetimes of mice such as yourself be greater than that of my own. Wisdom such as yours was rare indeed... but gone now..." A glance at the portrait of the two wolves finds the lord of the Castle offering another sigh to the emptiness of his room. This one is laden with a deep sadness that seems to pull at the very soul of any creature who would have heard it. The wolf pulls the chair away from the desk, faces it toward the open window, sits, and waits. But for what beyond the dawn... he knows not.