In His Council PT.I

A lone set of footsteps clack sharply down the gothic hallways, a man dressed in a sharp velvet vest and fine black brais hurriedly makes his way though the maze-like halls of Castle Yaarin. He pauses and catches his breath for a moment, gaining his composure at the foot of a set of massive wooden double doors. He places his palms flat against the door and lowers his head, taking a final deep breath before heaving the doors open with a grunt. King Yaarin sits at the end of the throne room with his head burried in his hands. As the man in velvet enters the room he lifts his head focusing his gaze on the man. An awkward silence falls onto the room as the man makes his way to Yaarin with only the clacking of his pointed shoes to fill the void. As he finally reaches Yaarin he drops into a deep bow as he speaks. "I bring news from the fronts of Durikai." Yaarin gazes mourningly as he flicks his hand in the mans direction. The man in velvet raises himself and continues, "General Sidar has requested for aide or he predicts the walls will fall before next day break." Yaarin looks down in disappointment, "As will the last of my allies." Yaarin stands and saunters to a nearby window overlooking the cities farmlands, the sun now glistening along the purple silk in his cloak. "Was there ever word from Rardiin?" The man responds nervously. "Our scouts say it was overrun by Matiff's men three days ago." Yaarin lets out a deep sigh. "Forgive me your majesty I wish the news I bear wasn't so grim." Yaarin smiles and turns back to the man. "Ask not for forgiveness Ivar even the greatest rules must have their end. " But sire if Durikai falls what are w-" The man is interrupted by a crashing beyond the castle walls that shakes the windows in their panels and drops him to his knees. Yaarin peers over his sholder to see a plume of smoke rising beyond the farmlands followed by a ball of fire hurling through the sky and passing the castle overhead and a wave of screams. Yaarim turns to find Ivar cowering on the floor with his hands wrapped around the tops of his head. "Come Ivar." Ivar lifts his head to see Yaarin extending his hand to him, he shakily takes his hand and Yaarin helps him up and dusts him off as he speaks. "Would you assist me to my quarters? I'm in need of my armor. "But sire-" "Hush now Ivar if a king is to die then i could think of no place better than beside his soldiers. They have shown their fealty, it is time to show mine."