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>Posted it in /lit/, after a long ass time got a "why not post in /ic/ comment, so here we go
There was one time a wizened king named Erad. This king had not gained his throne through the near endless cycle of death, birth, and coronation, as was the apparent nature of the world at this time. While Erad, may have fought a war for his right of rule, it was the glint of gold, and not of steel in his honeyed words that set the roaring tides of the huddled masses to moor him in his gilded hall. The king afore, whilst drowned under, still left afloat a stubborn flotsam. Despite what the world thought to be a cleansing tide, neither king new, nor old was unburdened a speck blood, which they both so callously flaunted, and painted on as if ‘twas, but another chore of vanity, likened to the powdering of a wig.
Erad whilst worthy by merit, but not of morals, was blessed with three paragons in his court, in which he bestowed the loathsome task to bring aboard, or set bellow the few still adrift retainers of the old lord. The first among them was his most valiant of generals. A man sturdy as oak, and wise as owl whose name was Atlan. The second was his steward, Soro. A gaunt man of many years, and much coin. Soro was a man who’d not brave a walk in the night, but would brave an inferno for a single copper. The final paragon, was Erad’s own daughter Delphine. A young lady with hair as black as the times, skin with a luster to rival Soro’s riches, wit as sharp as Atlan’s blade, and beauty fit to contrast father’s butchery.
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>op
Erad himself, while vile of spirt, was not vile of flesh. A handsome man despite being past his prime. He set himself on a throne of snow white ivory, inlaid with gold, and jewels. His raiment as fine a hue of crimson, as his hands. Whilst promise of replacing the people’s cuffs of iron with bracelets of gold thrust him onto throne, it was not long before the people found, that he’d merely made their chains the weight of gold.
Erad had four great vices in this world. The first three seemed to embody the nature of his retainers. They were his lust of wealth, lust of blood, and lust of women. While all of which, where the fuel for the fires, of the hell in which he bestowed, his final one was fuel for his own hell. This, the eye in a swirling torrent, of horrors was his desire to always be right. Oh, the depths of depravity Erad would plunge, to convince others of his omniscience, were as mole dwellings next to pits to hell, when contrasted with the depths he would go to convince himself. Erad, who would oft after slaying, a retainer for uttering correct contrastments, would then not even find comfort in his gilded bed, nor harem of maidens. ‘Twas, this very gem of depravity, which led to the demise of his bride, and Queen. Whilst his Atlan, could weather the might of a legion, and his Soro, turn ash into gold, only his Delphine could steady his nerve, with honeyed lies sweet as his own.
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>op
Alas, as waves oft creep, before crash, the crest of Erad’s rule came to pass on a normal night of vice, and tyranny in the throne room. He sat half in slumber whilst on his snowy throne, spying maidens dancing, in front of the crackling fireplace, casting mesmerizing shadows upon the floor. At their desk beside the throne, Soro scribbled away at his ledgers, whilst Delphine wrote perfumed letters of false pretenses to the other lords in the land. Erad’s most trusted bodyguard Hector, watched as Erad’s harem preformed with lustful envy. Just as Erad was slipping into dream, a crashing bang shook the room, and the cold night air nearly snuffed the fire. Standing in the doorway was Atlan. The room went silent, save for the sound of blood trickling on the stone floor from the head Atlan carried toward the throne. The only one seemingly unfazed by the spectacle was Erad himself, who slowly reseated himself into a lax lean. As Atlan approached the throne, Erad started into a slow, near mocking clap.
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>op
In a manner of mockery only one so vile as Erad could conceive, he asked unto Atlan “oh, did you do as I asked, and thin your network of former compatriots?” Atlan, who had been convinced into service of the former king’s false grace, had by now long realized that he had repeated his old folly once more, and was thus unsurprised by the response, and at first unmoved. He held the head of his former peer high, and then dropped it onto the floor. Erad then pointed to one of the dancers, and snapped his fingers. The horrified girl then picked up the head, and rushed it back outside, as her fellow dancers rushed to clean the mess. A smirk went across Erad’s face as he asked “do I sense a hint of defiance?” Atlan after all of this time finally felt he had to speak. “I’ve killed for you, bled for you, betrayed for you, all the while thinking, that it’s what was best for the people. Yet you’ve sat here, and whored, and butchered, and cheated this nation, into an even greater hell, than I thought possible. All the while my warriors have fought to put you on that throne, and what have you done? Fornicated with women, and spoken.” Hector who had long hated, and envied Atlan, started to rush forward, only to be halted by a lazy wave of hand by Erad, who then said to Atlan. “Oh, do you intend to kill me, like your former master? Dog” To this Atlan replied “no, I’ve learned what treason brings. You taught me of that.” Erad grinned, and said “you’d be amazed what women, and words can do” With this Erad, waved his hand in dismissal towards Atlan, who bowed, turned, and departed.
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>op
All I'll post for now. More on request.
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>op
disregard that I'm a faggot
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>>3006855
Well you got all, but the green text portion right.
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>actual op
I'm out for the night.
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>op
I'm seriously a homo.
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TL;DR
Read the board rules. /ic/ is for visual art. Go back to /lit/, we don't want you.
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>>3006843
Nobody told you to post in /ic/ you fucking moron >>>/lit/9589380
For someone who thinks them-self as a writer you should really have some basic reading comprehension.
>>>/lit/9572406
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