Asher Rider: Thief, Knight, Adventurer

|Intro| |An Orphan's past|

Silence and tension that fills the room suddenly vanish as the men and women who only a second ago where holding their breath begin to whisper in hushed voices. The noblemen and woman are discussing the fate of two people who sit kneeling on the red carpet that leads to the well-crafted throne. upon it sits their judgment, ruler, and king. The man lets out a long almost sorrowful sigh as he taps his fingers on the arm of his extravagant chair. 

"The sentence is death." The king's eyes darken and any remorse dissipates as he almost snarls out the fate of these two people at his feet. The whispering crowd goes from hushed spectators to a roaring mob in the matter of one sentence.

"Traitors!" One man yells with venomous spite in his voice. The other side screams back in response.

"Tyranny!" The room becomes hysterical as the guards struggle to calm down the crowd. A loud slam and an aura of complete dominance capture their attention everyone again holding their breath.

"I am your king! You dare question my authority and create a mess in my, MY room!" His face is cupped by his spread out hand and fingers as a strand of long messy grey hair falls in front of his face his laughter sending chills down the spine of every man and woman in the room. Yet one voice dares to defile the purple aura that has seemed to form around the crazed man.

"I ask that you spare them, my king. They have said multiple times that they hold no ill intent towards you and no one can show evidence of their betrayal!" The woman's voice is stern yet respectful.

"Quite you damn witch! You and your damn eyes are the reason these two even sit in front of me! Did you not see a rebellion!? Did you not see my head on a spike?!" The man's voice is crazed at this point and spit discharges off his lips as he speaks each word. The woman's head hangs and her long blonde hair hangs in front of her face as if to shield her from the very thing she set in motion.

"Does anyone else have anything to say about my authority?! Does anyone else dare question me!" The man yells standing up lifting up his hands as if to dare any man or woman to challenge him. "Kill them, oh and take off their gags I want to hear the screams of these traitors bastards as you take their heads." He almost spits out. A large man with a black hood walks up, his axe in one hand as he uses the other to take the gag off the man as soon as he does the man's tear-filled eyes start to stream and he begins to beg for his life.

"My king! I am your oldest friend and noble! I beg of you don't do this! PLEA-" The man's last cry is cut off by the swift swinging of a blade and with a thud and a spray of blood the reaper claims yet another soul.