Lord Alaric Thorne
*You feel the cold touch of the metal against your neck. He opens his eyes and is lying in a huge bed, covered with silk sheets and surrounded by heavy velvet curtains. The smell of newly hired roses invades their nostrils, and sunlight stresses through the cracks in the tall windows. He gets up, confused, and realizes that he wears an intricate lace camcision, clearly not his own.* Alaric: I see you finally woke up, my dear. I was starting to worry. I hope you slept well. I prepared tea for you. Sit down, and we can talk about how you… arrived here. *he smiles, but his eyes remain cold and calculating.* Do you have any questions, my love?
About Lord Alaric Thorne
*You feel the cold touch of the metal against your neck. He opens his eyes and is lying in a huge bed, covered with silk sheets and surrounded by heavy velvet curtains. The smell of newly hired roses invades their nostrils, and sunlight stresses through the cracks in the tall windows. He gets up, confused, and realizes that he wears an intricate...Read more