Outside the gates, Lieutenant Gilbert, who was the definition of refinement, is repeating Prince Gabriel’s words to the masses. Tensions rose immensely among the people of both realms, with each side accusing the other of orchestrating the murders in an attempt to justify another war. Gilbert’s dark brown eyes peer into the crowd, landing on a familiar face from his past. He blinks twice to a burly set man with long streaks of gray, in his untamed hair. The burly man was Jole, who flashes his maroon eyes. Gilbert stutters in his speech, startle by a loud commotion, which soon brings his words to a screeching halt. His eyes scan the crowd, landing on an all-out brawl commencing between both Callaghan and Wylie’s subjects. The combative parties …show more content…
“You wish to deny the charges?” “I proclaim my innocence to these crimes.” “How unfortunate, you feel the need to deny the truth. Take ownership in what you had done.” “Enough! You will not defame my brother with your lies,” the King thunders, jolting from his seat. The chair made a thud sound, hitting the floor. “This Landsmeet is over,” he screeches. “I will not sit idly by and let you vilify the Callaghan name.” The King was about to leave when First Commander Tocharian and Royal Seeker Gawin advise him to stay. He sits back down in his chair, Tocharian position upright, and exchanges glances with a thrown Michal. He looks back to Gabriel and grudgingly nods to continue. Gabriel signals to his second commander, who signals to two Kingsman standing outside the doors. The Kingsman briefly disappears, returning shortly after with a bound prisoner, chained to them. The prisoner’s appearance was grotesque, from the beaten he sustained. His vision was blurry. He could barely see out of his left eye, and his right was swollen …show more content…
Gawin rings the excess water from the wet rag and places it across Gustave’s eyes. He stands behind him, glancing back to Prince Fabian, who rises from his chair with a muddled look on his face. “Uncle,” Fabian speaks, “who is that man standing with the prisoner?” “He’s King David’s Royal Seeker, Gawin Astrachan.” Fabian sits back down in his chair, staring at him. Gawin can feel the eyes of hundreds, observing him. He shoves his fingers into Gustave’s eyes and closes his. Gustave screams in agony. His pain was evident by the tears of blood, running down his face. Gawin’s hands start to shake. His facial expression was one of dread and disbelief. He breaks his connection. His eyes open. He ignores Gabriel’s questions. He drops the bloody rag back into the bowl and accepts a dry one from one of the Wylie’s servants, wiping the sweat and blood from his hands and face. Gabriel grabs his arm, “What did you see,” he demands. “Your highness, remove your hand.” “Not until you tell us what you saw.” “Prince Gabriel!” Cipher shouts. “You saw the truth,” Gabriel utters, releasing him. “Excuse me, your highness,” Gawin solemnly replies, meandering around
Both men are on a journey to test their courage and how strong their religious commitments are to God. Neither men are quite sure what their destinations are, but Sir Gawain is under the impression that his is certain death however, that doesn’t end up being the case. In Sir Gawain’s situation his beliefs are strong and he lacks any doubts toward God.
When Gawain shows up at the Green Knight’s chapel, his mere presence provides comfort to his host, who greets him: “Sir so sweet, you honour the trysts you owe.” Perhaps the green gallant had been expecting Gawain, as representative of the crumbling House of Arthur, to be derelict in his duties. Gawain lives up to his good name. Similarly, he resisted the unbearable temptations of Lady Bertilak on numerous occasions, providing a mere kiss, in accordance with the code of chivalry.
Upon arrival, The Green Knight quickly raises his axe and with all his strength swings it down towards Gawain as if to kill. Just as quickly though he moves just in time to watch the axe fall where he once stood. Mockingly he askes what kind of brave man would “tremble at the heart” before he is touched. Gawain retaliates that he is better than this green man and vows not to flinch again. Again the knight strikes down his axe, but stops before it can draw blood.
knights and courtiers in his court, but he neglects to accept the fact that Lanval is even in his
The captain of the local guardsmen stood near the chained child and took a deep breath. "Citizens and guests of Eir Village!" he yelled as if he was going to announce his proudest achievement. "This runt has plagued us for years. One of the Cursed Generation denied by the gods and blessed by demons. He has committed a numerous amount of crimes within the past twenty-four hours: Theft and vandalism are among the minor occurrences," he glared at the boy. "He has eluded us for too long and now, he's here because of murder."
His thoughts were soon broken by the words of a slave, “My commander, you must come through this door, you are a valued guest.” the slave said. Agricola quickly acknowledged the slave and made his way through the door and began noticing his surroundings. Agricola was not used to seeing such
“I have other business to do now.” Charles explains. “I’ll see you later.” The King goes across the hall to check on the Queen. But before he had gone in the room, a feeling of impending doom strikes him. He looks out the window apprehensively. Nothing seems to be wrong. He goes back to his own business. Suddenly, he hears screams from outside the castle. “The kingdom is being attacked!” he exclaims. He runs down the stairs as fast as he can. “Julian, while I lead the army, I need you to keep guard on the room in which the queen is right now.” He commands. “We cannot lose the heir to the throne!” King Ch...
Beatty recoiled, disgusted, and dragged his leg out of the grasp of the burning figure. Without a second glance, he thrust his leg back behind him and shoved the man back into the burning heap. He listened as the man’s screams filled the air, joining in with the screams of the other tortured
prisoners, the audience shares in the daily life of the condemned before the massacre perpetrated on
The wretched sack was ripped off her head, along with some of her hair. She was yanked back by the neck of her dress, forced into a kneeling position. Ropes wrenched at her wrists and ankles, tearing at her scabs. Cautiously, her eyes slid open to blinding pain as she stared into the sun. At first, she could only pick out the most prominent details, but the blurriness gradually faded. She felt groggy, as if she had been knocked out. Trees
Constricted by ropes, blood streaming down his face, and no recollection of the past we see the protagonist lost and deserted. Blood streaming down his face, weary and confused
He was young, surprisingly so- he couldn’t have been much older than Alexander and I. He was sitting straight with his chin up, light facial hair on his cheeks and chin, his smile barely there and was most likely forced. I looked over to Brooks, a deep strain sunk into my heart because I didn’t want to be the one to kill the boy with chocolate brown hair and charming gray eyes.
...e it heard. In addition, allowing us, the readers, to better comprehend the extraordinary element of Gregor’s transformation as the personification of his rejected creative mind by his family.
... John spits in the woman's face. "YOU MONSTER. WHERE IS SHE?" She stands up and walks into another room. A few moments later, she returns. Allison holding her hand. Horror fills him when he sees what they have done to her. Her eyes are gone. She is like them. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?" He screams. "Allison, honey! Come here! It's me, honey! It's daddy!" She runs to him and hugs him. Relief fills him as he hugs her. However, that relief soon turns to terror as he feels teeth sink into his neck. He gasps for air and spits blood out of his mouth. He closes his eyes, and then all that is left is darkness. “He knew too much, and we couldn’t risk him remembering on his own. Poor guy. And well… we wouldn’t want our new little girl to starve would we? She’s got quite an appetite.” She grins as she watches the young child rip the flesh off of the man she once called “Dad”.
While the guests conversed, the door suddenly opened and in limped their host. He was in a state of disarray. His coat was dusty, dirty and smeared with green; his hair was markedly grayer than the last time they had seen him, his face pale, and his expression haggard and drawn as if by intense suffering. As he stumbled back through the door in tattered, bloodstained socks, he promised his guests that be would return shortly with an explanation for his actions and appearance.