Torgothataria

Dawn

0, Year of the seventeenth king's reign, 8th of Azreal
The sun was rising indulging Torgothraton, the capital of Torgoth with its warmth. Roosters crowed and people rose. In that same time the new gods would have seen countless kingdoms, empires and rebellions rise and fall. Even the lower districts banished the moon's cold grip and embraced the beaming sun.

Today there happened to be a funeral, the whole continent was happy with this news. Hangrim the Ironfist was dead, a tyrant of a king that ordered many atrocious acts including the culling of Raymarsh, in turn caused Greyweald to secede from the empire. Sparking a rebellion, won by the rebels allowing kingdoms such as Westoath to gain their independence. But that is irrelevant now, a benevolent prince was to be crowned a king.

Soon to be King, Arthon sat upon a strong oak seat, overlooking a great bastion of humanity. This very city was one of nine 'manmade' wonders. Two sparrows zoomed past him, seemingly singing to each other. "Interesting" mumbled Arthon. Even the birds were afraid of Hangrim, they had avoided the capital from his reign until this yesterday, surely a good omen for him and the kingdom.

A young servant boy, covered in dirt and ripped rags approached the prince, bowing before him to request his permission to speak.
"Yes?" Arthon asked inquisitively.
"Your majesty is required at the funeral when Asvath is in the middle of the sky and the bells ring for the twelfth time." Replied the servant.
"Thank you" Arthon expressed while handing the boy seven silver coins for payment and a gold coin to show his gratitude," Go get a rest and wash your face."
He bowed lower before his majesty than before, then rising to then run off into the crowds.

Arthon yet had some time to prepare before he had to go, he decided he would sit a while longer and enjoy view along with the sound of soft, cool wind brushing against the trees. Then Arthon remembered that after tomorrow would be 'King's Gift Day'. After a King died, there would be a full day between the funeral and the coronation in which the whole Kingdom had a day of celebration. Magicians would preform magics, music would be played all day, free wine and foodstuffs would be given out. However sadly after Arthon's grandfather's King's Gift Day was not celebrated by the tyrant Hangrim. Causing widespread discontent before he was even crowned.

Though it would be indeed a special day on his coronation if the seers were correct. The second moon Circon would block out Asvath. An event that had not happened for millennia, when last it happened the lunelvi, the lunar elves disappeared along with Escrion their homeland. Wether this eclipse foretold a good or bad future the coming days would only be more intriguing.

Arthon rose from the oak seat, looking to the left he moved in that direction. He had a speech to prepare and funeral clothes wear. A man in a full black suit, with what looked like chainmail under the suit approached Arthon. Arthon wasn't sure if this man was a noble, sellsword or assassin. The mysterious man smiled, his fiery green eyes pierced the prince. The man stood there, then going to reach his left waist. Arthon called upon the light "Arakos Naveem!"
The man was sent flying back into a stone wall, slamming to it then falling to the ground face first. The prince slowly paced towards him, thoughts burning in his mind. 'What if he is innocent? Who would want to kill me? Who is this man?'

The man rose his head, reaching out his arm. "My Lord, I only wanted to give you a gift."
Arthon ran to the man, kneeling down to help him up. "Fool!"
The figure spoke in a demonic language " Ov Nav Crag Nix Oh Dri Tis!"
Arthon was paralysed, helpless and completely at the warlock's mercy. " To think a king is so easy to kill" He drew a dagger," Now you will bleed, you MUST bleed!" The man jolted his dagger, then he too couldn't move.
" Your majesty, you must really be more careful." Warned High Magister Holzir. Holzir looked to the wall. "Nice dint your majesty, for future reference try not to pummel every assassin into a wall." The magister waved his arms, with his eyes closed. Releasing the prince.
"Thank you Holzir, now onto the matter at han-"
" I will deal with him, you have a funeral to attend."
Arthon nodded, walking left again into the streets. Arthon didn't have time to change his apparel, but he did have a place to be in a few minutes.