>>5192856The boy is unspeakably strong, but any warrior worth his salt knows that strength isn't everything in a fight. Sometimes it comes to skill and long experience, and something tells you the boy lacks both despite his monstrous strength. Alys has his attention for now and you quickly take advantage, slipping to the side of the young warrior and slipping the blade between your foe's ribs. He cries out and you twist the knife before taking it out of his side as you deftly move aside from the wild swing he takes at you in response.
This was a fatal blow, one you had seen undo many a warrior in your years of service. So you struggle to believe your eyes as an ethereal glow surrounds him as he sinks to his knees just for a moment, a young woman in what you think is religious garb holding out her hands towards him. You do not understand what's happening just now, but your going to stop it.
"Alkaign, the girl!" You shout, hoping your meaning comes across. He nods, disengaging with a nearby enemy garbed in Ard Negh furs and swinging a massive hammer. In a moment he is there and momentarily incapacitated, your enemy is unable to respond as the Heir lops her outstretched arms off at the elbow with a mighty downward swing. She screams and falls to her knees, the glow fading from the warrior as blood gushes from her ruined limbs in place of the unnatural healing. Your wounded enemy, deprived of her aid, calls out in concern. "Vera, no! Damn you!" The affection in his voice might stir emotion if you were not locked in mortal combat. Combat about to end in your favor as reinforcements flood the throne room. The girl's voice somehow becomes even more shrill as her ally sinks to his knees as more blood pours from the gaping wound you had delivered, and peaks into a wail of despair as Alys slips behind the boy and pulls his unarmored head back and scrapes her knife across his bared throat, opening it from ear to ear. Surprise is clear on his face as he claws at the wound, gurgling blood before Alys releases his hair and collapses face down into a rapidly spreading pool of his own blood. The fight seems to go out of the others, the brute with the hammer all but letting Alkaign and Sir Graven wear him down and disarm him, several of the arriving guardsmen taking him into custody shortly after. The danger subsides, but now questions remain. How and why?
Alkaign cleans his blade, his eyes and drawn expression looking over the corpse of his father. You step forward but Sir Graven motions for you to keep your distant. He moves to where Albrecht's head sat on the stone floor, and tenderly removed the Imperial Circlet. As the healing woman and the large hammer wielder were ushered out he held up the jeweled headwear. "Emperor Albrecht is dead! All hail Emperor Alkaign!" The blank look on Alkaign's face does not waver as the old man places the Circlet on your liege, nor does it when the guardsmen acclaim him with enthusiasm.
