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『KingPig』

The King lay inclined upon his throne in the Royal Throne Chamber of the Royal Palace overlooking the Greyhorn Kingdom's Capital. His eyes covered by thin slices of cucumber, and his face painted with a sickly green unrefined paste of sorts.

A smile curved over his lips as the sound of rhythmic sloshing could be heard echoing throughout the royal throne chamber. He felt and saw no evil, as he relaxed, a drum of meat in his hand as his arm lazily rested on the throne arm. "Oi..." He groaned in delight, "Evanon knows how to make an old man such as myself feel as pleasant as a young artisan creating his greatest of work..."

"Hmmm... Yes..." The King placed his empty hand upon the head of hair bobbing between his legs. A young felt on their knees gagging, and crying, mutedly against his royal piece.

This man was old as shit. His skin was soft, stretched, and veiny all around. He had a long pointed beard, a sharp waxed mustache and a severe lack of brows.

A wart on his lower lip, and another on his nose. If he were fat instead of a skinny man, one would only assume he fed himself a little too much. Yet, the desire he sought was not in eating, but in pillaging the rights of others beneath and around him.

"Don't use your teeth!" He swatted the small nude elf between his legs with the meat in his hand, smacking her hard on the backside several times. His hand brought her head down deep, causing her to flail and push at his legs.

That's when a man entered the room, "My King! Your son, the Crown Prince, has arrived! Shall I let him know to return later?"

"No! No!" The King shamelessly laughed and waved the drum of meat in the air, "Do let'em in!"

The Guard nodded and when he turned away from the king, cringed before leaving.

Moments after the Guard had left, the King didn't stop his act, even as his son came into the room.

The Crown Prince had brown hair, green eyes and a set of perfect white teeth that had been freshly cleaned with charcoal and various herbs for freshness.

He made for the center of the chamber, ignoring the perverse sounds of his father and his toy elf. He fell to one knee, "Father! My King!" He addressed before raising his head in disgust towards the man on the throne. "You sent my younger brother to the City of Noctia, three nights ago! I would like to know why I wasn't informed..."

"Hm!? You dare question me, you spoiled brat?!" The King spouted as he bit into the oversized drumstick. "This is a matter of SUPREME Importance!" His choice of words almost made the Crown Prince snigger.

"So it was older sister's doing?" The Crown Prince sighed, "What was his mission? Collect flowers for her supposed brew of beauty products she wishes to test on our commoners?"

"No... She found a Scripture foretelling the return of the Heavenly Daemon Emperor," The King didn't seem at all convinced about this Emperor, or of its power. To him it was a mere work of fiction, as many stories written within their religion were considered symbolic rather than literal.

The Crowned Prince frowned however, knowing the tale very well, from his older sister who favored him over his younger siblings. She was the only reason why his father ever bothered with him, even as he was the most competent male heir!

"Oh... And the task she gave him?"

"To bring Lord Sephir into our fold of course! I believe he is the most competent in dealing diplomatically with a divine being of our stature!" The King pronounced to his, young adult, first son.

"Father... With all do respect, my brother, Prince Kelvin is far too arrogant. It's likely a heavenly being would smite him for any wrong word which leaves his mouth. If anything, he'll push this Lord Sephir away... Or worse, against us."