In the forest of thieves someone was moving. The trees loomed in and a thousand glowing eyes stared from deep inside the forest as a man in a dark cloak slowly made his way down the overgrown path. The scent of magic laid heavily upon him, wafting throughout the air, covering up another, more sinister scent that lingered in the shadows. As he rounded the last bend before exiting the forest, the man suddenly stopped, the green sunlight flooding onto him through the leaves overhead. A hand emerged from his cloak, reaching up to grab hold of the hood. He paused for a moment, and then with a jerk, tore off the cloak, revealing the evil underneath. The trees recoiled their branches and the undergrowth shrivelled away from where he was standing. No creature of the forest could gaze upon his face. Distorted by evil, he had lost any resemblance to that of a human being. Gazing up to the sky through the slits of his eyes, his pale clammy skin glistened grotesquely as he basked in the diluted sunlight. Then, quietly, he became to chant. Starting slowly at first it quickly gained speed and intensity, growing louder by the second.
In the city of Cadia, Arthur, the butler to the king woke suddenly in a sweat. Pain was engulfing his arms and legs, spreading quickly into his chest. Shouting out in agony, he tore at his chest as the pain moved up his spine to his head. Shouting one last time, his body convulsed once and then fell limp. Now, helplessly staring up at his ceiling, Arthur could hear a raspy voice chanting, and then there was nothing but darkness.
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Alarms sounded throughout the city and palace guards rushed throughout the streets. A small crowd consisting mostly of palace officials gathered in the kings’ chamber. They stood there solemnly, surrounding the broken body of their king. They had already discovered the murderer. He was, after all, very hard to miss as he had hung himself from the chandelier using the torn, bloody sheets from the bed.