Post by Thames Kalthorpe on Dec 25, 2017 9:36:10 GMT -5
Thames sat in the black velvet cushioned chair, fancied and designed as a throne of sorts, surrounded by four of his household guard and several members of the city watch as his beck and call, dressed in a red leather long coat, secured about his waist with a thick red sash, secured with a black leather belt over it, clipped with a gold belt buckle. Everything he wore, carried himself and even his mannerisms screamed nobility and authority. At this moment he held a crystal goblet of white wine his hand, swirling the content in the glass, giving it time to breathe before pulling the goblet to his nostrils to take in the aroma of it's vintage.
He could smell the scent of grapes, the spices therein the mulled wine, the cinnamon, the nutmeg, the honey all a beautiful concoction of delicious liquids and yet added so lightly as to retain it's transparent hue. This morning he oversaw and witnessed the execution of ten men sentenced to death for piracy, the ropes creaked against the wooden arms of the gallows as the bodies swung to and fro. Overpowered by one man in particular who had the misfortune of not having his neck snap and bring him a clean and merciful death. Instead, he hung, legs kicking, body contorting and fighting the inevitable cold clench of death that pulled harder and deeper at his soul.
The flesh at his neck ripped and blood stained his collar, and yet still the body fought to live even as the men's face grew a dark shade of purple, one of his eyes balls popped from the socket hanging on his cheek but stringy sinew. Even from the tips of his toes a combination of urine and defecation dripped and streamed. And yet despite it, all Lord Kalthorpe sat, legs crossed, and watched the man while he sipped on his wine for the few more minutes until his body stopped its convulsions. Even the cries of mercy for the man from the crowd went unanswered and completely and utterly ignored as if the voices were nothing more than waves crashing on the sands.
When it was done he nodded to the city watch who began untying the knots as the bodies dropped to the ground. Nooses were undone and pulled from the necks before the bodies were carried over to the wagons and loaded up like worthless carcasses to be taken off and dumped at the sea to be food for the fish. Thames sipped his wine as the nooses were reset, the next in lines were brought up ready to face their fates, some sobbing many of them having pled innocence and some even professed to have not even been at the scenes of the crime.
But Thames was Lord by right and his word, law. Guilt was his choice and the sentence his discretion, a nearby servant approached leaning over to whisper in Lord Kalthorpe's ear concerning a contingent of Verdant Shield knights roaming in requesting lodging in the castle. Thames turned his head slowly, "No, they can stay at an inn... on their own silver." He turned back to face the next line of executions, uninterested in any further notice of the matter as he servant nodded and walked away. Thames smirked and looked to one of his bodyguards, "Verdant Shield.. heh what a joke, fanciful bootlickers, must be nice to have such faithful servants living off the coin of loyal vassals of the land."
He grinned and took another sip of wine, scratching at his jawline as he thought of the future.
He could smell the scent of grapes, the spices therein the mulled wine, the cinnamon, the nutmeg, the honey all a beautiful concoction of delicious liquids and yet added so lightly as to retain it's transparent hue. This morning he oversaw and witnessed the execution of ten men sentenced to death for piracy, the ropes creaked against the wooden arms of the gallows as the bodies swung to and fro. Overpowered by one man in particular who had the misfortune of not having his neck snap and bring him a clean and merciful death. Instead, he hung, legs kicking, body contorting and fighting the inevitable cold clench of death that pulled harder and deeper at his soul.
The flesh at his neck ripped and blood stained his collar, and yet still the body fought to live even as the men's face grew a dark shade of purple, one of his eyes balls popped from the socket hanging on his cheek but stringy sinew. Even from the tips of his toes a combination of urine and defecation dripped and streamed. And yet despite it, all Lord Kalthorpe sat, legs crossed, and watched the man while he sipped on his wine for the few more minutes until his body stopped its convulsions. Even the cries of mercy for the man from the crowd went unanswered and completely and utterly ignored as if the voices were nothing more than waves crashing on the sands.
When it was done he nodded to the city watch who began untying the knots as the bodies dropped to the ground. Nooses were undone and pulled from the necks before the bodies were carried over to the wagons and loaded up like worthless carcasses to be taken off and dumped at the sea to be food for the fish. Thames sipped his wine as the nooses were reset, the next in lines were brought up ready to face their fates, some sobbing many of them having pled innocence and some even professed to have not even been at the scenes of the crime.
But Thames was Lord by right and his word, law. Guilt was his choice and the sentence his discretion, a nearby servant approached leaning over to whisper in Lord Kalthorpe's ear concerning a contingent of Verdant Shield knights roaming in requesting lodging in the castle. Thames turned his head slowly, "No, they can stay at an inn... on their own silver." He turned back to face the next line of executions, uninterested in any further notice of the matter as he servant nodded and walked away. Thames smirked and looked to one of his bodyguards, "Verdant Shield.. heh what a joke, fanciful bootlickers, must be nice to have such faithful servants living off the coin of loyal vassals of the land."
He grinned and took another sip of wine, scratching at his jawline as he thought of the future.