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Nobles and Beggars Part 1

WaitingForLife · 2011-01-08T04:17:59Z

A random story wrote at 5 am. Hope you enjoy! ^^ [WARNING: Contains very strong language, therefore the 18+ rating.] Damion Kale lounged comfortably in a gilded chair of brass, the sharpened point of a rapier grazing his throat. ”Why, to whom do I owe this explicit pleasure?” he asked, flicking a dark strand hair out of his eyes. The dark hall was partially lit by sconces on the walls, casting about long shadows. The hand holding the rapier shook with quiet mirth, sinking the tip a millimeter further. The faint chuckle rolled from lips underneath a precisely trimmed mustache. A strong nose protruded above the faint, black line; the eyes crowned the noble features, starlight blue orbs of hardened steel. This was the face of Maximillion Raadenreigh, Duke of Dorsair. ”Ever so cocky, Kale.” No smile graced the hard features of the Duke. ”This time, there's nowhere for you to run. I've a hundred strong arms to cover all entrances, aside from these fine lads here." Wicked grins spread on the faces of the Dreghs, their scarlet and black uniforms stylishly adorned with gold lacing; every one of them was pointing a loaded crossbow at the solitary figure on the Throne of Brass. ”You will come quietly, or every man here will suddenly develop a simultaneous itch in their finger. We don't want to stain the holy floors with your filthy blood – if it should even be called blood.” Raadenreigh spat on the floor, which a liveried servant rushed to clean up immediatley. "But rest assured, we will if we must." Damion watched the servant girl clean up the glob of spittle with great appreciation; he had a perfect hind-view from where he was sitting. ”I shall come quietly, my lord the Duke. But I fear my sense of etiquette must be drastically out-dated. I had thought that a Lord of the House of Kale was supposed to be escorted by at least twenty guards when he takes a walk.” Damion let his gaze leave the servant for in instant to lock eyes with the Duke. ”The filthy beggars have a need for their parades.” His eyes wandered back onto the girl. ”Shut the fuck up,” Maximillion growled, ”Those 'filthy beggars' are the reason you have a fortune, for who else would buy a steady stream of rotten merchandise from across the sea? The peasants are not there to be merely trampled on by the rich!” Damion Kale smiled widely, looking up with mocking shock. ”Does our great Duke, Ruler of the Seven Sages, Bane of the Foredian, Shield of Hadaw, have a soft spot for grovelling mongrels?” A vein pulsed in a very rapid rhythym on Raadenreigh's forehead. His right hand clenched into a tight fist until the knuckles popped, his left hand holding the hilt of the elegant blade in a death-grip. The Ruler of the Seven Sages drew back his fist and punched Damion dead in the face. Damion's head rocked back, warm blood oozing from his nose. ”I swear, one more word – just one more fucking word out of you – and we'll see just how well you can sing with another opening in your throat. Now, haul your ass up from my throne, and prepare yourself for a good, long ride to Hell.” Maximillion's voice was a deadly whisper. Damion frowned at that. He lifted a gloved hand to his nose, and frowned further as it came back stained red. Stifling the flow with the ruined glove and crossing his legs, Damion scrunched up his face in deep thought, smacking his lips loudly. The sound echoed through the empty throne room of the Duke, playing tag in the maze of pillars. Finally, Damion gave a half-hearted shrug and nodded, but very slightly, fearing the sting of the rapier. ”You and you,” Maximillion pointed at two of the more muscular Dreghs, ”grab him.” The two appointed guards slung their crossbows on their backs and moved in unison to haul Damion up from the throne as the little servant girl scrambled away with a frightened shriek. He looked after her with deep regret. ”You there, you get the best job. You stick that nifty little device there in your hands right in his crotch and if he even twitches a finger without my command, you skewer his balls. Understand?” The man in question nodded and crammed his crossbow in between Damion's thighs, causing him to grimace in pain. ”Good lad.” Duke Raadenreigh leaned in close to Damion. ”You won't say one fucking word while I'm gone. Got that?” He gave Damion a small pat on the cheek. ”You're going to die like a baying bitch, screaming for mercy at my feet while I squeeze the life out of you with my own hand,” Maximillion hissed, squeezing an invisible throat with a gloved hand to emphasize his point. The Duke spun on his heel with that, his lime-green cloak fluttering in his wake as he stalked away, looking for the Captain.

WaitingForLife

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Wed Jan 19, 2011 5:31 pm

WaitingForLife says... · Wed Jan 19, 2011 5:31 pm

Hey, Spitfire, thanks for the review.

Oh, thanks for pointing out the bleeding nose part. I added it in after posting, so I forgot to mention it again later on.
And I'll clean up the further points you said. ^^

Call me crazy; I prefer 'enjoys life while one can'.
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The pen's mightier than the sword - especially when it's wielded by a flipmothering dragon.
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Quote

The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices; to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicions can destroy. A thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all of its own.
— Rod Serling, Twilight Zone

Nobles and Beggars Part 1

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