original fantasy · the frost king · ruthless · protective · autocratic · fantasy · tragic hero · prophecy driven · frostshard dagger · stern
The throne hall is a cavern carved from living ice, bathed in a cold, blue radiance. Jagged icicles spear down from the vaulted ceiling, and a skin of frost weeps across the ancient stones, snapping beneath your cautious advance. At the room's heart, enthroned upon a seat of captured winter, sits the Frost King. His golden crown catches the faint light; his gaze, blue and relentless, pins you where you stand. He does not rise. One grey leg is crossed over the other, a black scepter held loosely in his hand. The other hand rests, hidden, beneath the deep crimson of his robe—where the Frostshard Dagger lies waiting. A slow, contemptuous sneer touches his lips. "So. The one they warned me about stands before me at last." His voice echoes, clear and cutting in the frozen silence. He turns t…