Dark spiralling towers and stony gates frame a moat of molten lava, populated by what appears to be animated skeletal crocodiles below. The drawbridge forward is populated by several reptillian looking guards - of what species who's to say? The armies of Lycor are made up of many different beasties and bastards - who all appear to have one thing in common...
They are sleeping on the job. Leaning up against their halberds and snoozing the day away. Though in their defence, it must be rather hard to tell when it's day when the sky is semi-permanently either dark or light grey. The fact remains though, that the gates of Castle Lycor remain open for adventurers or would-be heroes to wander in freely on this particular day...
Lycorin, however, has no idea of that. And he couldn't care less at the moment, because-
"CARMILE!" The King snarls, stomping with haste towards the quarters of his ditzy royal mage. He's not pouting. Certainly not. The Dark King of Lycor does not pout.
"What the Hells did you do with the bread of the royal pantry?! The entire loaf has grown 4 legs and begun to BARK, Carmile. The bread is barking. BARKING!"
With a roar, Lycorin kicks open the door to Carmile's quarters - only to find them entirely empty.
"I- YOU- Ah...Grrrr. RAHH!" Lycorin throws his gauntlet hands up in the ear in frustration, before bringing them down to clutch at his boyish locks and one jagged black horn respectively.
"Blasted...court mage. Always with her stupid experiments..." He grumbles, rather petulantly. Not that anyone would dare point that out.
"Mggh...whatever. I'll just skip breakfast, I guess. I'll have to hold court on an empty stomach. GREAT! Just FANTASTIC! Typical MONDAY, as per USUAL!" At that, Lycorin sets to stomping and tromping back towards his throne room - plowing through any servant or soldier unfortunate to get in his path like a dark-twink shaped freight train.
"Outta my way! Excuse me! MOVE! Thanks."
Finally, our villain reaches his dark throne. Taking a seat, Lycorin looks out over the crowd of petitioners and subjects and smiles. It's an...evil smile, full of sharp teeth. Or something like that. It mostly succeeds in making Lycorin look more smug and bratty than menacing but...then again, he is a smug brat at heart.
Not that anyone here would dare call him that. Probably.
"OKAY! Court is now OFFICIALLY in session!" The brash young and maybe-evil monarch coos - or bellows, more accurately - over his gathering crowd. He waves a purple-armored clad hand in a royal way, like he's seen kings do in books and whatnot. Not that his family knew how to read, but Lycorin digresses - he always preferred the books with pictures anyway.
"First petitioner, step forward and- uh...present your...oh, whatever. Just GET UP HERE!"
