Jareth's Throne Room
The Throne Room

The room you walk into is massive, its floors a dark thunder cloud grey stone.

Lining the walls are pillars made of flawless white marble, each ridged and topped in gargoyles that leer down at you as you walk past, their alabaster eyes gleaming.

Banners and tapestries hang from the walls and ceiling, each ornately made and decorated, almost as much so as the large stained glass windows scattered over the walls that filter various colours of sunlight through their tinted glass.

Centered along the far wall, opposite the huge iron doors, sits a throne upon a dais, made of carved dragon bone, striped ivory with age.

To one side of the throne is a crystal, set into a mass of some sort of ebony wood that twists and turns to hold the ball securely, looking much like a serpent coiled about the world.

Watching, the crystal shivers within itself, its smooth glassy arc aswirl with every possible hue that bleed into one another indefinably.

Carefully you look into its midst, as an image surfaces, deep within the sphere's limits.

The face of a huge cave lion peers back at you, its features clearly defined and strong. Wispy spines of near white mane ring its face, as sharp eyebrows half hood blazing eyes. Its lips seem to pull back into a grin as you lean forward to watch more closely.

As you tilt your body towards the crystal, a tap on your shoulder startles you.

Whirling around, you find yourself staring up into two almond shaped eyes the colour of sunlight through honey. A thatch of willow blond hair almost hides the severe looking eyebrows that lift slightly as an expression of amusement softens his sharp, hawk-like features. You are astounded by his garb that is nothing short of outlandish, yet seems to fit his extremely tall figure well. He grins arrogantly, revealing a neat row of regimently pointed teeth beneath full lips, tinted light gold.

"Well, so you have arrived finally. I've been waiting, you know."

His voice is soothing, conjuring the image of wet silk over marble. The deep tone is touched with an English accent. He smirks openly at your shock and with the snap of his wrist, produces a smaller, fist-sized crystal, holding it out to you. As you reach for it, he chuckles deeply.

"You'll have to earn it first, deary."

With that, the crystal and he vanishes, into a swirling cloud of glitter hued silver and cyan, leaving you to explore the castle at will. Or so it seems.

Take the Stairs

Into the Library

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