Recent content by Alarak

A fervent need in her lips and grasping hands, so rich and raw the taste that a thrum of dark delight rose in Alarak's throat - silenced by her mouth upon his. One hand wrapped up in her hair and the other curled around her back as he drug her closer until no room remained between them. How...

He stared into her dark eyes, which glistened with as yet more unshed tears. Tension bled from her to a near yielding. Those eyes of hers moved to his chest. Her hand twitched at her side. So close to the precipice. Only her horror of him held her back. No. Horror of the Shrike, the moniker...

Tears stained her cheeks as she sat there, curled in on herself. A wretched thing. A slave. She should be beneath his notice. And yet... "You don't know." The words sighed from his lips with a spike of frustration welling from the dark, tortured depths of his soul - whatever still remained...

"No. I doubt they would," he agreed. She said the words bitterly and Alarak suspected that she had spent so much time on the run, merely surviving, that she did not have the sort of pastimes others enjoyed. No harps for her. Alarak watched her for a moment, the tome resting on his lap. She...

"Fascinating. Issuing demands even after near murder. Or perhaps it made you bolder." Alarak let out a dry laugh. "You will stay in this tower. Not in this room." His hands shut the tome with a solid thud and he set it aside. "But for this very moment, you will indeed stay here. If I dared...

Ah. She wakes at last. And as ever, a thorn in his thoughts. Pricking him. Barely conscious again for a handful of moments and already pressing him. It was almost impressive, if it did not irk him so. "Ravenna will see reason in time," he didn't glance over at her, finishing the sentence...

"Shh. Rest," he smoothed away a strand of hair from her face as sleep took her. Outside, the storm raged on. But within his private chambers she was as safe as anywhere else inside the fortress. Alarak knew Ravenna would be furious at the failure of the Wardens to get rid of Keres. A knot he...

Alarak caught her, other arm wrapping around her waist to hold her. She had been through much, he supposed. Poisoned and beaten. Scarce any rest. A crucible, refining away impurities. "Hate can make you strong," he replied softly as he held her there. Then the king lifted her. A flash of pain...

"You think I would allow you to die..." mused Alarak. The leather of his boot scraped against the ground as he advanced a half-step toward her, closing the shallow distance she'd sought to create. The king's gaze fell from her eyes to her fists. He saw how they clenched hard, practically...

No reply came at first. As ever, the dark king of Cerak at'Thul bided his time in answer. The storm rolled on outside, thunder shivering the stones. "Fair weather makes pitiful sailors, Keres." The words seeped into the room, sibilant and sickly-sweet with venom. "Did you think the road...

Puddles of rainwater marked her bare footsteps upon the cold stone floor of Alarak's private chambers. Thick furs and carpets blanketed the interior. Tapestries hung upon the walls, decades old and some even older - threads half eaten by time. A fire roared in a hearth. Above it hung a strange...

Raw psychic power struck Agravayne like a hurled spear and his grip slipped from Keres as he stumbled away, free hand moving to grip his skull as he let out a roar of agony - the voices of the dead shrieked inside his mind. The undead minotaur rushed up the last steps, great hooves chipping...

From the highest tower's balcony, pale gray fingers wrapped around the balustrade and a hooded figure with red eyes, unnoticed in the haze of thickening rain, peered down at the conflict far below on the walkway of the battlement. Watching. Waiting. Upon the battlement, chaos reigned. Hurled...

“Minotaur,” said Xun, pointing helpfully. Raith rolled his eyes. “Black seas below, Agravayne, kill it.” The drunk swordsman sniffed, eyeing the charging beast thundering up the stairs, then the much smaller dark elf beside him. The rain pattered on the elf’s muscled frame, cascading in...

Xun dragged her out of the room, the other two following behind talking nonsense. The stone stairs were cruel to stumbling feet and knees, but he sacrificed her comfort for speed. They emerged from the tower onto the battlements. As ever in Cerak, a light storm had set in and a shower of rain...