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To Kill a King


iris1612

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3ZfrCPKEqM

 

 

Nikolai was many things, but he would never have considered himself a kingslayer. No, he was nothing more than a simple bandit, preying on the weak and vulnerable, taking a particular faction in whatever vengeance he could extract on the Courlandic people who destroyed his homeland. He pulled his helmet over his head with a sigh, glancing over himself. It was flawless; the green and black tabard hanging over his chain mail armor making him the very image of a soldier of Courland.


    He walked in through the front gates of Aleksandria, in full Eagle’s Watch guard uniform, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw he was unchallenged. To the people of the city, he was just another guard. He meandered through the streets, greeting a few people, but not seeing any  targets isolated enough for robbing.


    “Hey, you!” He turned at the shout, seeing two other guards. He panicked internally, fearing what was about to happen. They had seen through his disguise, and now he’d be ousted and killed. His hand went to his axe as he uttered a mental prayer, and looked up “Yes?” His grip on the hilt of his simple woodsman’s axe tightened as he prepared for the worst, but it was in vain. “Come with us, we’re escorting the Princess to see a King, we could use more guards.” He relaxed his grip, but his heart beat faster. This could be the opportunity he was looking for! “Of course. Which King?” 


He knelt before his liege, listening in rigid silence as the Shark listed his targets. King Tobias of Courland, King Philip of Lotharingia, Duke Abdes de Savin; the targets of utmost importance. Then Morgan Keerie, Louis de Felsen, Charles and Sven Staunton, Romanos Palaiologos, and whatever absurd name the ‘High Priest’ had bequeathed on himself; not nearly as important, but still worthwhile targets. These men all had high bounties on their heads, and he was promised plentiful rewards for their deaths.


    “King Philip. We’re to take the Princess to see her.” These words sent a tremor of excitement through his body. This was his chance to prove himself to his Lord. A target like the King of Lorraine.. This was too easy. “Of course. Let’s be off.” It was him and two other guards, along with a little girl (presumably the princess) who was no more than eight or nine. They protectively surrounded the young Princess as they walked, escorting her to a cart which was chartered for Metz.


    In less than an hour, they were inside the palace of Metz, standing before the king. The regent was young, and surprisingly handsome. It was a shame what was to happen. He felt his adrenaline pulse, tuning out the conversations as he planned his next move. His target was just across the room, but there were too many Courland guards here.

 

CRACK!

 

His head whipped around at the sound of splintering wood, and he heard a shout. Someone else was coming for them. Another assassin? He moved by instinct, whipping his axe out and shouting directions to the other startled guards “Get the Princess out, now!” It only took a moment for them to recover from the shock, and they did, hurrying the girl away. He stayed behind, nodding to the young King and following him out to the courtyard. There were three--him, the King, and one other man, and looking through the garden doors they could see at least two assassins. The other guard cried out as a third assassin jumped down from over the roofs; as the two turned to face him, he knew it was time to make his move.


He swung his axe in silence, no battle cry or call of righteous fury uttered from his lips, for this was not a valiant attack. He was no hero, and there was no glory in his act. His woodsman’s axe cut into the back of a defenseless boy of only sixteen years, pulling a cry of pain from the boy’s lips, and just like that it was over. The other guard turned and fled, running back inside the castle and slamming the door shut behind him, and then it was just the the Nikolai and the other assassin. “Kill him,” came the voice of one of the men outside “Quickly, before reinforcements come.”


So he brought his axe up, sparing the boy a final glance, and then brought it down in one clean stroke, killing Philip Owyn, King of Lotharingia.

 

 

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Philip Owyn's ears rang as he was knocked to the ground a large gash in his neck as he gasped for breath fading in and out of conscious. His mind raced to many things as he tried to speak but only gasps and coughs of blood escaped his mouth. As he met the eyes of the soldier under his helmet moments before the axe flew down at him. Ascending to the Seven to be reunited with his Father and Brother.  

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Wem would take a piece of black chalk, striking a third tally on the gravestone of Bruce Hornigold. @Kaldwin

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Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it. 

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