By past the city was the provincial capital of the region. The streets were deserted of both honest and dishonest folk by virtue of a strict curfew put in place by the soldiers of the Empire of Mozack.
While the Emperor held court far away in Mozack City to be kept apprised of matters, he was not a particularly militant man. Born and raised to ascend to the throne, he had been nourished by luxury all of his life while the well-paid mercenaries of his father took control. He had no idea how to lead an army, or of the necessities war planning requires.
Which brings us back to the provincial capital. Far away from his gaze, and a decent spot away from his territory, two particular Lords - and their squire - had been taking great liberties over his orders.
The Empire was multicultural. The Empire, unlike many nations that preceded it, was tolerant. Lord Kras, effectively known as the 'Puppetmaster', was not. And neither was his right hand, Lord Fe.
***
"Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!" ordered the Imperial Captain in control of the caravan.
The Imperial soldiers rode their horses, several toting carts with a man or two inside.
They had stopped in town square, the beating heart of the provincial capital.
Waiting for them was a simple block of wood.
The Imperial next to it, however, the men in the carts had much reason to fear.
He was the headsman.
Folks stared out the windows of their lodges and homes in disbelief as one by one, the former governor, his wife, his aging parents, and his 11-year old son were thrown into a line before the block.
A carriage pulled up a moment later, and out stepped a man in stark contrast to the dark steel suits of the soldiers around him. He was wearing iron, and he did not have a helmet.
This was the Squire - the personal servant of Lords Kras and Fe. He was little more than a yes-man after years of belittling, beatings, and torture to force him into line. No one knew his true name, and no one was brave enough to seek out Lord Fe to ask.
"Step to the block when I call your name," the Squire said in a monotone, dispassionate voice, pulling a parchment from his pouch.
"Iston Vanbrick."
The disgraced former governor proudly stepped up to the block and lay himself down.
"What say yourself, Iston? You are charged with treason," said the Squire.
Iston merely closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
"Very well. Headsman?"
The headsman stepped up, looked down at Iston with contempt, and took a mighty swing, separating head from body.
The now deceased Iston Vanbrick's foot twitched a few times before he was kicked off the block, revealing the pool of blood and his head laying on the street.
His wife put her hands over her mouth and fell to her knees, sobbing.
Their son just stared at their father's corpse, not sure if this was a dream, a horrible nightmare, or reality.
"Honey, tell me. Did they do it? Did they actually do it?" his father, who was blind, attempted to grab his wife's hand.
"They did it," she said in between gags.
The Imperial soldiers seemed unmoved.
"Leanna Vanbrick."
"MAMA!"
Leanna could not muster the strength to stand, so two Imperials did it for her, dragging her over to the block and throwing her down.
"And what do you say?" asked the Squire.
"I hope you all die a miserable, slow, agonizing -"
"Headsman?"
Leanna was then sent to join her husband in eternity.
At this point, the child began vomiting and did not hear when the Squire called the name "Stu."
"Stu is not present?" the Squire said again, though he knew full well who he was.
He looked over each of the three remaining family members.
"I'll assume one of you is lying to me. Kill them all."
Stu was shot in the head by an archer immediately, and the two grandparents were run through while holding hands by a pair of knights.
***
Meanwhile at the bar, a man wearing farmer's attire walked in followed by a lady who was also wearing farmer's attire. The first had brown hair with a scrappy beard and goatee and glazed brown eyes, while the second was a redhead with pigtails and bright yellow eyes.
The guy also looked much older than she did.
"I don't know nothing about technology, I'm just a simple farmer!" he said to her in a droning voice as the two of them approached the bar, seeming to be regulars.
"That's why I'm here," said the redhead in a young, vibrant tone.
