"In Harga death is a blessing cloaked from society. A secret soon seen by those who were once blinded by the false hope of love, life, and peace. Hope doesn't exist anymore. Like the king... We will all soon go mad under his rule. His thirst for pow...
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"You went through it haven you?" The young man asked his King as he held the glass of wine close to him. Where the king would drink more than four kegs of wine a day the young servant was always there to refill it to keep his lord happy. The only thing was he was unusual, sadistic. Dark in every way, and never seems to be happy unless someone suffers emotionally or physically before him. His dark clothing consisting of reds, golds, dark grey and blacks as his armor will occasionally share the same outlook of that of royalty from time to time. Yet it was on rare ovations. Scars covered his face. His most distinct ones are the scars that rest on his nose and the right corner of his lip. His dark skin as tan as the darkest sand. Those who know him well looked upon him as a monster more than a king. The people he ruled were in pain, poverty, famine ravaging the once lush lands inhabited by lush farms and long prairies that are then stained with blood from the countless battles.
"A matter most look down upon. I had my brother look at it so the matter may be handled in a 'rational' way. They are far too stubborn to give up without a fight." He said as he raised his tankard close to his servant as he filled it with more wine." I admit though. The stubbornness of these armies is quite amusing.."his voice raspy as he took a sip of wine. The bright red liquid taking its time as it slipped down his chin. Wiping it off as soon as it reached the large tip before it could touch his armor. The servant shaking slightly standing next to his we,l known feared master. And yet, his general expression showed that he was relitivly calm at the time. A rare sight for anyone who does know him as well as his brother does. And his cup bearer was one of them. Always there at his side with a large pitcher to refill his tankard whenever his majesty needed it.
"Amusing?" The servant asked questionably as he stood close to the king. Not capable of feeling the strong glare the king shot towards him before it was too late." I wouldn't call it amusing sire. I'd call it.. Cowardice?" He questioned himself in the thought as he pondered through the words he could use to describe those who go against his king. Though in trough he'd rather be with the rebellion who go against the Kings words. Every other province in Harga had defied him to his last word resulting in the break out of complete war.
"Have you no pride brother?" The Kings elven brother asked as he pushed the tall wooden double doors open with no sign of general hesitant force." It's thanks to your idiocy the other kings of the provinces request your council in hopes to "change your mind" from taking their lands." He yelled as he made his way to the throne. Tossing his long white hair aside in order to look his brother in the face." I postpone the request and yet they still persist to have the meeting. Should I ignore it or reply?" He asked his brother as he placed a finger on his chin and thought.
"It's a matter that must discussed before the annoyance can go away. Sometimes one must face what is to come. Accept the meeting. If they wish to speak with me so badly then here's their chance." The king said as he got to his feet. Motioning the young servant to follow him as he shoved the tankard into his scrawny arms. Without stumbling the young boy learn to turn the Kings usual behavior into a designated skill of delight. I'm which the tankard was shoved into him he would purposely drop the pitcher. His fast reflexes proved quite useful especially when the so called loyal servant was technically someone way more threatening to the king in his plans. Yet to their knowledge they know nothing of the sevent.
