"Lord Jones is dead..."
An armored man, bearing on him a sheathed sword had run the halls, in belief of bringing rich news to his superior
"Do you believe it be true?" He bent before the king sized prince, and looking below his shoulders to the cream tiled floors, he made obeisance.
Silence filled the halls after the man's report. Almost as though his information had been worth a penny. Or less than one.
In the sense that, he carried with him, old news, like the reality that the world they live in is full of unburied dead men, who now we tread upon as unsettled dust on the streets.
"I do not care about such filth..." The prince reached forward to, reacting with a stance, and threw the closest breakable item directly at the unsuspecting man, though he had missed by far.
" I just want
