\"This man has committed treason against the King, His Kingdom, and it's People! For this betrayal, we will witness his punishment before the eyes of ALL!\" the silent crowd awakened in an uproar; men, women and children began throwing stones, rotten vegetables and fruit at the man in chains on his knees, the axeman forced the captive forward with a grimy boot, his head crashed down upon the Headsman's block. The Inquisitor gazed down upon the rabble and rose his voice again. \"May the Great Gods see his soul to the fiery pits!\"
Drakon rose his head from the chopping block, his dark eyes piercing all who met his gaze. A tight, murderous grin twisted his face. \"You are all fools, you think that by beheading me that this will stop... come this time tomorrow, you will all know despair. This I promise you. As we speak, my army descends upon you all. None will be spared. Your children will rest upon the spears of my soldiers, your women will know true despair, and your men will see their very souls destroyed.\" His back straightened and he turned his head to the balcony where the pompous, fat official stood in stoic silence. \"And you will be the first that dies by my own hand!\"
The Inquisitor was suddenly choked with terror; his bald head slowly began to bead with sweat. This man was bound, disarmed and without any ally for miles yet the fear that gripped him was tangible. Was it possible that this man truly was born of the union of man and demons? Had he truly transcended death as the rumors had promised? The congregation murmured uneasily as they awaited the fall of the headsman's axe. The Executioner planted a boot in the small of his captive's back and his head slammed against the bloodstained wooden trunk, blood slowly began to well up and spill over the edge.
\"May the Gods have mercy upon your troubled soul, Drakon. For crimes against King Ruathane Tyr and his Kingdom, for the murder of innocent life and the destruction of the King's Lands. I hereby sentence you to death!\" A hush fell over the crowd as they watched the dull, thick blade of the axe rise and fall with a resounding, meaty thud. A woman in the front of the crowd screamed, the headsman's strong hands shook and the axe fell from his hand. He had seen the blade fall, he had by his own strength not made a mistake with his stroke and yet, even with the head detached that madman's cackle seemed to drown out all other life in the courtyard.
\"You are all dead. I make true on my promise. I have conquered your Gods and supped upon their flesh. I am Death incarnate!\" A horn near the front of the castle sounded, an alarm. The Demon Army had come. All who come to witness justice had turned their eyes to what transpired behind them except for one, the Inquisitor. The body moved it's arm to grip the headman's axe, the head still resting on the wooden floor of the platform and with a mighty jerk brought the axe up in a wide arc. The breath the man held escaped him, the body had missed it's fatal strike.
\"By the Gods...\" choked the Inquisitor as he watched the executioner's head tumble from his shoulders and the body collapse twitching and kicking it's legs. It sat itself upright, picking up the head with both hands and setting it upon the grizzled stump and holding it in place. The skin and muscles beneath it repaired themselves and soon The Demon King stood and turned his gaze toward his captor.
\"Your Gods are dead and now your souls shall be cast into the maw of darkness,\" roared the Demon King as he leapt from the platform, raising the double-bladed axe high above his head and smashing into the crowd below.
(At the castle gates...)
\"Mercy... GODS,PLEASE MERCY!\" the knight cried as Nothilion split his head open with his black-steeled greatsword. None were innocent, all were to be slain. He stood at the front of the charge felling armor clad soldiers in hateful quiet, his allies fought behind him with spear, sword, axe and bow. A commotion at the rear of the enemy formation caused confusion as men from the rear charged to the front in retreat and those on the front tried to retreat to the rear. Nothilion raised his blade above his head and the soldiers he led stopped and waited, teeth bared behind steel helm waiting for the wrath coming to them. Men cried out for retreat only to crash into ravenous foes awaiting them; it was torturous. They were fighting one man behind them, but afraid to face the two thousand in front.
\"It is Drakon! FORWARD!\" cried out one of the soldiers in Drakon's employ, men plunged past Nothilion as he merely stood still with his weapon resting across his broad shoulders.
Quiet had fallen throughout the castle. The bodies of the dead were piled upon one another in the place where Drakon's execution had taken place. On the headman's platform, the Inquisitor was bound and knelt with his head upon the block. Nothilion towered over him, his soulless eyes gazing down upon the now naked, fat man. Drakon now stood on the balcony, his arms crossed over his scarred, bloody chest. He looked down at his executioner with a faint smile.
\"You see, you bulbous ass. Look upon your people, see how they clamor before you now... see how now they pelt you with stone and rot. Do you hear their souls as they curse you for your folly?\" He called out dreadfully; the man's sobs rose to the balcony.
\"You...you are a monster...there will be a day when you will pay for your crimes, you devil...\" One of his many chins quivered as he closed his eyes and began to utter a silent prayer. Nothilion raised his sword and it fell swiftly.
The township of Grand Inquistor Hytaes Tyr burned as a dreadful force left it's desolate, bloody walls; upon spears driven into the ground were the bodies of children, the heads of woman, and displayed in blood upon the door to the main hall rested the mark of Drakon, the Demon King.