INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

TABLE OF KINGS

The feast began when the sun fell behind the dunes that lazily lifted themselves from the sandy ground.

Inside the Tower, King Orrin sat at his massive table, suitors and nobles and courtesans and all of the panoply of court. Murtagh's cheek itched as he looked upon his own meal, a cut of roast pork, with sweetened bread doused in butter.

Orrin sat far away, next to Nasuada and her stone-faced brother. Newcomers to the table were present as well: half-dozen dwarfs who agreed to assist in escorting Nasuada to their kingdom.

They were all a few inches over five feet, with dark hair that reached the bottom of their pointed chins. Their eyes were black, and they bore muscle-bound bodies contained in strange garb.

High collars surrounded their necks, while stone slabs covered their shoulders, underneath which simple dark fabric was found. Between their legs, which were wearing ebony leather, a white flap of cloth hung nearly to their knees. Their hands were covered by gloves and around their wrists bracelets of rock hugged heavily.

With that said, they were nowhere as interesting as Orrin's father.

Murtagh had often wondered how Orrin had claimed the throne so young, and he had been answered- Orrin's sire abdicated his claim on behalf of his son.

Murtagh could see why.

Killian Langfeld hid behind a silver mask, his blue eyes staring from two small eyeholes. However, his mask did not cover the ruin of his face entirely- His right ear was missing, simply a burned circle on the side of his head. His left ear seemed as if it had been chewed, a mangled and pink flap of flesh.

He was hairless. the top of his head and the sides of his face crawled with black veins that throbbed underneath a layer of thin and cracked skin. Murtagh did not know what had happened to the man, and frankly, he did not wish to find out. Killian Langfeld was a terror.

Orrin did not like him, plainly, but there was more. The chambermaids he had been assigned were brutalized and beaten to near death. A young boy who assisted him when the man had stumbled returned to his quarters bleeding from his palm- Killian had stabbed him through the hand, as the boy was unfit to touch a Lord.

Killian's own court followed him: some two hundred knights, two mages, and countless other servants. They seemed lively enough, save for the man's wizards.

One was old, a shaven face and a bald head. His counterpart was also bald, but younger. They both wore the same expression, however, and they both had swampy green eyes. They were given the name "The Twins."

Murtagh found them more than off-putting. They sat by Killian now, laughing and eating with the rest of them.

"You haven't touched your food." Zidda said suddenly. Murtagh had forgotten his friend was seated next to him. The dark haired youth  smiled lightly, feigning happiness.

"I see that it is safe to eat. I was afraid Orrin planned to poison me." Murtagh grinned. Zidda did not return his smile.

"You should eat. He notices you. He will take it against you if you don't eat. He's dangerous."

Murtagh didn't have to be reminded. Orrin had taken to punishing him for every slight, real or imagined.
His body ached from the constant beatings.
The others around the court had taken to mistreating him as well- sensing their kings distaste for him, they shied away from Murtagh, treating him differently and often making him the end of cruel jokes.

The thought flared Murtagh's anger.

"He has turned his anger towards me for no reason other than I am better than him."