Thread: Fall of Elen'thalas (Krimson & HeavenSundered)

The entrance of the cave didn't call attention to itself...but the sheer size of the opening evoked suspicion. The traps seemed to converge on this point this must be the correct place. Both of his gloved hands settled upon the hilts of his blades, black handles engraved with platinum. Twin swords made from the finest adamantium, pricelss treasures that have been passed down generation to generation in the Arcadian royal family. Once wielded by the great Kasean von Irion, legendary founder of the kingdom. His father gifted the pair to him on his twelveth birthday, and he'd carried them proudly since. Coincidentally, these swords, Oathkeeper and Truthseeker, influenced his decicion to become a Swordmaster. Far too short and thin to be favored by knights, he knew neither of his elder brothers would receive them... Yes, even at twelve, he planned ahead, a strategic mind that no doubt helped explain why, out of three brothers, he alone survived the brutal wars that ravaged Arcadia. He wasn't planning on attacking, of course, but one couldn't fault the prince for being cautious. Deserter or not, this sorceress once fought for Zaria, and he wouldn't be surprised if she did not take kindly to the man who only recently waged war upon that very land. One step, two, fiery eyes that marked him as an Arcadian royal scanning around cautiously as he entered the cave. A journey that lasted only a few seconds - the cave was shallower than it first appeared. Seth paused. And for a very brief moment, the ever charming prince lost his words. He immediately looked away, good manners demanding nothing less. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the female form. He was a soldier, and the only thing that appealed to soldiers more than gold was women. As the crown prince, and with his exceedingly well-sculpted and handsome face at that, there was ever an ample supply of nubile young women willing to share his bed. He didn't like to brag, but the notches upon his bedpost was such that it was quite impossible to count. That said, what exactly was he supposed to do in this situation. Diplomacy, after all, was quite hard when the person you were trying to persuade was...bathing, of all things. He considered, briefly, to turn back, and give the woman her privacy, to salvage what was left of a rather strange first impression. But before he could take another step forward or back, the figure spoke, and his eyes flickered back to her form once more. And that's when he noticed the horns. They were quite obvious, and...very realistic. His gaze lingered, following the curving horns...Draconians - he'd heard of such individuals, but never had the chance to meet one. The words made him lift a brow. Surely this is the first and only time anyone has referred to him, Crown Prince of Arcadia, as a...clever little minx. But he knew better to comment on it. No...he didn't flicker his gaze away this time. Rather, he squared his shoulders, straightened his back, and commanded the very air around himself as he bent slightly and removed his boots as instructed. My name is Seth, milady. He replied, wearing a charming smile for no one in particular. No last names, the prince not yet intending to declare his identity or intentions. Although, if this sorceress was on top of her game, she might very well identify him from his eyes alone. Crimson eyes were quite rare among humans, after all. Not to mention his sheer confidence and poise, the kind only one long being in the position of authority develops. He took a few steps forward, closer to the pool but not circling around, before leaning against the wall, gazing at the back of her head still, for modesty's sake. Only fair you grace me with your own, no? I darest say that the Demon Witch in the Mountains is not your preferred title... A small, good-humored chuckle, indicating how absurd he'd found the tales the village-dwellers told to be.