Noctis Keep, Morgavia
Noc Soare sits in his throne, staring down at the sword in his hand. A crimson blade, it sits in his hand, almost transparent.
It has been far too long since hes used this sword. After conquering the city, he'd used it to keep peace, but now peace has been kept.
He stares out the stained glass window and over the city, out to the plains surrounding the area. Somewhere out there, there were more. More elves. Demons. Wolves.
Heathens, all of them.
His hand remains on the sword, itching to draw it. Waiting for a reason to give in to his temptation.