In the land of Aripath lies the Kingdom of Drakoria and its ruler, King Ezarus. Once gentle and just, the King is now the most barbaric ruler of all the kingdoms. The Drakorians obey him in hopes of gaining power and wealth or out of fear of punishment, for even the King’s only son was put to death for opposing his father, leaving his cousin, Ronin as future King of the land. There are but few who dare to contemplate a revolt for even the strongest and bravest consider it impossible, and certain death if one fails.

King Ezarus is surrounded by protectors, great in number. Some blindly follow while others relinquish freedom of thought and action in favor of superficial favors or protection for themselves and their families. A few are soulless. Malnourishment and oppression diminish human will to deviate from the current course. The less fortunate who neither have royal blood flowing through their veins or the physical prowess to be considered for the King’s army simply go about life following the same daily rituals with one goal in mind, survival.

So it is that hope is like a most distant star. Though it is there, it is not bright enough to illuminate the hearts of the Drakorians, save a few of the younger and naturally rebellious youth.

Gavion’s chin lay on his chest, sweat weaving its way down from his forehead, along the ridge of his nose, to the tip where it steadily drips. The rapidly pulsing veins in his neck and arms protrude and rage fills his lungs.. Gritting his teeth, he lifts his head upward, eyes closed, and lets out a cry of agony. He slowly lowers his head, opening his eyes to glare directly at his captors, his face red with anger and eyes full of venom. He drops his head once more concentrating on his breathing attempting to slow his pounding heart.

Though his clothing is filthy and tattered, his stature remains intimidating. His wavy shoulder-length hair is thick with sweat and matted with dirt. It doesn’t matter. Today will be his final day. His feet are shackled with short chains keeping him attached to his cell wall and providing very little movement. His wrists are held the same but with only one chain link connecting to the wall at shoulder level, providing no freedom of movement. Blood drips from fingers to palm following the path of veins until it drips form his elbows. He is forced to push his back flat against the cold, rock wall attempting to alleviate agony inflicted upon muscles forced to work in unnatural positions.

Sunlight juts through creating tiny threads of light in the wall reflecting off moisture and seeping from underneath small patches of moss. He is in Jolbanta, the death chamber of the King where one hopes to never be found. King Ezarus stands outside the cell gate, a guardsman on each side. He mercilessly watches Gavion receive the punishment ordered.. A henchman stands from his kneeling position near Gavion’s feet and wipes a bloodied axe on a cloth before putting it back into a sheath at his side.

Gavion’s fingers and toes have been severed one by one at the first knuckle, a peculiar and particular punishment for this resistance fighter and a death sentence the King prefers today over the tedious beheading. Mercy is often forgotten so as not to dismantle the reputation of Jolbanta. It is not the first time Gavion has committed crimes against the King. It’s just the first time his elusiveness has eluded him. An overwhelming feeling of power strikes the King, and he egotistically chastises Gavion for his ignorance and stupidity as if his punishment were just. Yet, as odd as the punishment, on this day the King’s justice is replaced with unintended mercy based on one factor alone, the King’s disposition.

The weakest prisoners, sick and elderly, are tortured and released, though not through any act of mercy. Rather, they provide no challenge or entertainment for the King. Alive, they remind Ezarus and his subjects that he alone has the power over life and death. The few women prisoners taken to Jolbanta are put to death immediately unless, of course, the King deems them worthy to be servants, based entirely on physical desirability.