« ritual, by the local guards whom had taken notice of nightly "escapes" from the imperial palace. How funny, he used to be the court's »

« philosopher, humanist, librarian, you name it. It wouldn't be surprising to say that the king wasn't exactly pleased when he learned »

« that the court's brains had pledged his allegiance to the darker arts. Well, now was Frédéric laying onto the cell's floor, tired, »

« thirsty, hungry, swollen from the many beatings his captors had given him, his ragged, torn clothes stained with blood and dirt.. Yet it »

« wasn't over just yet. With the sun burning tremendously his eyes, that were getting used to the darkness of the jail, as soon as he got »

« dragged out by the city guards, Frédéric only barely saw a copious amount of figures standing before and around him as he limped »

« forwards, yet the shouting, yelling, swearing, the stones thrown at him, the stray punches and kicks administered to his legs, »

« shoulders, back and sides were hinting at the fact that he had found himself in the middle of an angry, angry crowd. His eyes adjusting »

« to the light, he remarked that even the guards were struggling to keep the angry crowd away from him. Nevertheless, Frédéric made it to »

« a large forum, on which he was tied to a pole. The people had wished for his public execution, and the king seemed to comply, and only »

« then had his red eyes, after a close inspection of his surroundings, deducted that he was on a burning stake, and well, wasn't that a »

« slow, and grim way to die? A tear strolling down his cheek, taking with it dirt and blood, Frédéric braced himself for the worst, all »

« while being spit at, and getting stones and rotten food being thrown at him, by the crowd which had only gotten more impatient. Yet the »

« worst never came. Apparently, the guards had run out of wood to use, and were too lazy to get some before the execution, and so had to »

« postpone it until they got themselves a nice amount. The crowd was hushed and sent off to work, and so did the guards, thus leaving him »

« alone, tied to that pole, under the hot sun of a summer afternoon. Sighing out, being even too tired to hold himself upward, vision »

« getting blurry, Frédéric looked down, only to get startled once more by footsteps that were approaching the pole. Weakly raising his »

« head up, Frédéric only saw a figure, presumably that of ___, looking down upon him. Sighing out, the red-eyed man looked down once more, »

« anticipating a stone, a slap, or maybe profanities if he was lucky enough. #DetailedRP #OpenRP #RPStarter.

》I just finished typing up a starter, to whoever's interested in RPing with me!