VELORCA
The smile she gave was one he vowed to see again, and again, and again — until she sat on the throne... until it was a smirk of triumph. It faded in moments, but Velorca had already memorised it, gilded it within the golden halls of his vast mind.
"We must find any remaining Davke that still walk these dunes. There are bound to be some left from the cull."
Velorca bared his bone white teeth, the word cull sliding cold hands down his spine — those were their families they spoke about, culled like livestock. Funny that the Davke had been labeled vicious and violent, when the Solterran Army had murdered children... when they'd committed crimes even worse than that.Worse.
A flick of his silken locks had the grim thoughts safely back in their blackened box, the golden chains in his hair glinting under the cold desert stars. He released a slow breath, settling his gaze upon Avdotya like two burning coals.
"I know of few within the walls — enough..." he glanced sharply back toward the Keep, then returned his long lashed gaze to his Queen, "... but not an Army."
They had been all but wiped out, only a few now remained. Yet all had their skills, their Davke pride and ferocity... a more than capable squad. Kingdoms had fallen under less — but not Solterran Kingdoms.
He peered at Avdotya again, cool eyes assessing as they shifted and lingered on the scars marring her slick skin. His own scars whispered at the sight, wounds within himself that had stayed fresh and weeping while his beautiful exterior remained pristine — they had both suffered at the hands of Zolin, and the pain the old King had created hadn't died with their tormentor.
"I will find the remaining Davke and bring them to you."
A promise, a purr through the night. He didn't speak it, but he would also begin collecting his poisons and researching ancient ways to assist their cause — the relic of tempus, he recalled, belonged to a seer of Dawn. An object of such power could be useful... he tucked the thought away slyly, already running scenarios through his mind. He would mention it to Avdotya after he had uncovered more Davke, perhaps would ask permission to thieve the relic himself. Magic would be nice, immortality even nicer.
Lorca turned his head back toward the Keep, then glanced at his Queen once more, dipping his angular head in respect (a rare gift, one not often performed) murmuring "No matter the odds, I'll fight. For the Davke... for you."
@Avdotya bloop what lorca ya loser
"We must find any remaining Davke that still walk these dunes. There are bound to be some left from the cull."
Velorca bared his bone white teeth, the word cull sliding cold hands down his spine — those were their families they spoke about, culled like livestock. Funny that the Davke had been labeled vicious and violent, when the Solterran Army had murdered children... when they'd committed crimes even worse than that.Worse.
A flick of his silken locks had the grim thoughts safely back in their blackened box, the golden chains in his hair glinting under the cold desert stars. He released a slow breath, settling his gaze upon Avdotya like two burning coals.
"I know of few within the walls — enough..." he glanced sharply back toward the Keep, then returned his long lashed gaze to his Queen, "... but not an Army."
They had been all but wiped out, only a few now remained. Yet all had their skills, their Davke pride and ferocity... a more than capable squad. Kingdoms had fallen under less — but not Solterran Kingdoms.
He peered at Avdotya again, cool eyes assessing as they shifted and lingered on the scars marring her slick skin. His own scars whispered at the sight, wounds within himself that had stayed fresh and weeping while his beautiful exterior remained pristine — they had both suffered at the hands of Zolin, and the pain the old King had created hadn't died with their tormentor.
"I will find the remaining Davke and bring them to you."
A promise, a purr through the night. He didn't speak it, but he would also begin collecting his poisons and researching ancient ways to assist their cause — the relic of tempus, he recalled, belonged to a seer of Dawn. An object of such power could be useful... he tucked the thought away slyly, already running scenarios through his mind. He would mention it to Avdotya after he had uncovered more Davke, perhaps would ask permission to thieve the relic himself. Magic would be nice, immortality even nicer.
Lorca turned his head back toward the Keep, then glanced at his Queen once more, dipping his angular head in respect (a rare gift, one not often performed) murmuring "No matter the odds, I'll fight. For the Davke... for you."
@Avdotya bloop what lorca ya loser
