Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20151216005727/@comment-5543592-20151216010446

(Some music)

 The doors into the Imperial Throne Room opened with a bang, and Ragnar was hauled into the throne room, his knees dragging along the ground. He was naked from the waist up and it was clear someone had been beating him, judging from the bruises dotting his face and body, and the. The wound at his gut from the crossbow bolt was an open sore and looked horrible.

 Jagar Tharn sat in the Emperor’s throne, slouched more like, with a curious finger to his bottom lip.

 Halfway to the throne, Jagar held up his hand briefly to halt them, and the two guards who had been dragging the denounced Thane released him, letting the Nord drop to the ground. Ragnar slowly pushed himself up to his knees, which was hard given his hands were bound, and glanced around the room. Several more of the “Emperor’s” men, if they could be called that, stood around, at the ready. He noticed some in full battle gear, hands on their swords, standing off to the side.

 They must’ve been the execution squad. He guessed this was it.

 “If you would like to beg for mercy, or say any last words, now would be the proper time.”   The man on the throne spoke, saying it all with a smug look on his face. Ragnar only met him with a furrowed brow.

 The ‘Emperor,’ sensing Ragnar’s confusion, nodded to his subordinate. “Explain quickly.”

 The suboriante stepped forward, and began to speak, causing Ragnar to avert his attention to this assistant. “You are to throw yourself onto the mercy of His Excellency, Emperor Uriel Septim.”   Ragnar assumed the use of name was most likely to keep appearances up.

 Ah. So he would have to beg to survive. Not exactly the most refreshing thing. He expected more.

 There was silence as Ragnar glanced up at Tharn, the latter in the form of Uriel Septim, and finally spoke.

 “Are you Jagar Tharn?”   The Nord asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. Interrogation had gotten the Emperor’s men nothing. Ragnar had kept his lips sealed.

 The Imperial simply nodded in reply, a smirk creeping onto his face.

 Ragnar looked around slightly with his eyes, glancing at the guards and stewards at either side of the throne. “I thought he’d be taller.”   The Nord mumbled to them, as if sharing an admission, banishing Tharn’s smirk for only a moment, before it crawled back over his lips. Nothing could ruin this moment for him.

 Ragnar snickered and lowered his head, dropping his gaze to the floor.

 “Thane Ragnar Heljarchen.”   The Nord muttered to himself with some contempt, as if it were a bitter joke. How’d he get here?

 Ragnar looked over at the subordinate, not speaking to Tharn directly. “You tell the Emperor.”   He began, mustering all his strength into his voice, as to be heard. “That I’m willing to discuss the terms of surrender.”   Ragnar spoke confidently, obviously having something to say. He swallowed, wet his lips, and continued.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “You tell him, if he’ll tell his men to lay down their weapons and assemble peacefully, I promise to take you all to Talin Warhaft, and I’ll try my best to save most of your lives."   Ragnar explained, nodding as he spoke, like he really meant it.   The whole room was looking at him with confusion or disbelief now, and Tharn was looking more and more pissed off as the former Thane went on.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “That said,” Ragnar picked up again, his expression growing darker, “Talin’s a might prickly.”   He looked straight at Tharn and slowly shook his head. “So no promises.”

<p class="MsoNormal"> Tharn and his subordinate shared a look and the latter only met Tharn with a bewildered look.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “Emperor… he says you should surrender.”   The subordinate said, with some degree of awe.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Tharn’s face collapsed in rage when his subordinate summed it up for him, obviously not liking being talked back to. The battlemage’s head darted back to Ragnar and he held his hand high. The execution squad of guards drew their swords.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “Your Excellency!”   A man called, stepping out from the side, and Tharn glanced over at him. He looked important, simply from how he stood, but Tharn’s people didn’t wear uniforms, so there was no way of knowing. “I beg you to spare his life.”

<p class="MsoNormal"> The man got no response, and the Imperial slowly turned back to Ragnar, his expression growing cold. Tharn and Ragnar met eyes briefly, each staring the other down, and Ragnar knew what could only happen next.

<p class="MsoNormal">'' Good luck, Agatha. I’ve given you the best chance I could. Slim… but the best. ''

<p class="MsoNormal"> Ragnar looked over to the executioners, his lips turning up.

<p class="MsoNormal"> “I wanna warn you all…”

<p class="MsoNormal"> The executioners stood at the ready, swords drawn, prepared to march forward and slay the Nord. Ragnar simply smiled.

<p class="MsoNormal"> The smile turned into a grimace and he grit his teeth. “…I’m a screamer.”

<p class="MsoNormal"> Tharn closed his hand and threw his arm down, completely fed up with this buffoonery. With a clink of armor the guards started forward, blades extended out. Ragnar met their advance with an unwavering stare and a final blood-curdling war cry, one that shook the birds from the trees outside, and only ceased when the blades sunk deep enough, finally granting him an ultimate peace.