King Archibald Ith’Rak sat upon his throne, resting his chin in the palm of his hands, his forehead slowly creasing from mounting frustration. The imperial guards standing at the bottom of the dais fidgeted in place, anxious and fearful of His Highness’ wrath. The lord’s attendant, standing slightly below and to the side of the throne, wiped sweat off his brow with a kerchief he kept in his pants pocket. Two shouting nobles stood arguing at the bottom of the dais, oblivious to their ruler’s pent up fury.
“That land has been passed down within my family for generations! What gives you the right to seize it from us? My King, please, I beg you, order this plebeian to return my land to me!” shouted the taller and lankier of the two, his already angular facial features pinching together in outrage.
“A plebeian? I’m as much a noble as you, if not more so! If you so readily insult my honor, you should be equally as ready to lose yours in a duel. Care to take me on?”
“Oh, I thought you’d-”
Ith’Rak, now visibly seething with rage, shot out of his seat and grasped the air with his hands, muttering a short incantation. The two nobles collapsed two their knees as they grasped their necks, struggling to draw breath.
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“Enough! I’ve allowed you to continue this farce of a dispute for too long. The both of you executed for the shame and disrespect you have shown me today, you pathetic worms.” the king shouted, his anger warping his words into a growl. “It’s unruly citizens like you that have brought my kingdom to the brink of civil war. Guards, take them back to their rooms, and hold them there until further notice.”
The eyes of both nobles widened, fear and regret clearly visible on their faces. One of them tried to speak out, but air still refused to flow through his lungs. The king, noticing this, perked up an eyebrow and spoke.
“Don’t worry, you miserable excuse for a man. I shall let you live, for now. I have a task for the both of you, something so mundane that even you two blubbering fools can complete it. Now begone!”
The guards rushed forward, glad to be getting away from their enraged lord. They lifted the still-stunned nobles to their feet, focusing more on their speed than their handling of the men. Ith’Rak turned to his attendant in the now silent throne room, the remaining guards not daring to make a sound.
“Go fetch General Azkir for me. Let him know we will be meeting in the War Room. And be quick about it!”
The guards stood at attention, paralyzed by fear, as their king stormed from the hall, stewing in his endless anger.