After a time, even the King notices that messages from other nations are lessened of late. In a fit of pique, he goes to the basement where his network of little spiders come together in the dark, sifting through notices and public messages dealt between traders, leaders of nations, and even low peasants. Rumour and story, soft words and loud proclamations, all make their part in this room of constant whispering between agents known and hidden. The King's Hand step inside the room ahead of the King, taking up positions to deal with anything and anyone who would dare interfere with or -God forbid- harm their King. One man, oblivious of the new presence is close to backing into the King with both arms holding many scrolls and letters. The nearest King's Finger tackles him, keeping the deadly weapon a hair's width from the man's neck as he lays flat on the ground, confused.

"Oh ease up, Arpin. Let the man stand." with a room now completely hushed, the man stands. "Now Arpin, take his head." and the man is beheaded in a quick move before anyone can react. His neck sprouting lifeblood in a fountain that stains both ceiling and an untold number of letters now spread out on the floor. The King laughs, his mood suddenly lighter and better, and he leaves the room with his guards. The reason for his venture completely forgotten.

"Oh ease up, Arpin. Let the man stand." with a room now completely hushed, the man stands. "Now Arpin, take his head." and the man is beheaded in a quick move before anyone can react. His neck sprouting lifeblood in a fountain that stains both ceiling and an untold number of letters now spread out on the floor. The King laughs, his mood suddenly lighter and better, and he leaves the room with his guards. The reason for his venture completely forgotten.


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