A month after the crowning ceremony of the new king of Clonmel...

Morgarath relaxed on the large throne, his feet dangling over one side and his back resting against the opposite armrest. He lazily examined the Crown of Araluen, turning it over in his hands.

The world is as it should be, he decided. Me, Lord - no, King Morgarath, on the throne, not some weak-minded scumbag. His losses had been heavy in the recent war, but insignificant in his view. An ambitious man, he cared little for his troops.

Straightening up in his throne, he picked up one of many scrolls stacked beside him. Glancing over it, he tossed it to the side in contempt. Miserable fools. I'm not about to appoint some good for nothing as my 'Royal Advisor'.

It was not the first request for promotion. Many of the nobles had been keen to take advantage of the change in power, and all sorts of ridiculous requests had been delivered to the new King. Well, no more, Morgarath decided.

"CHARLES!" he hollered. When no response came, he stalked over the the doors to the throne room with a murderous expression on his face. Pulling them open, he singled out one of the guards. "You - go get that useless Charles. Don't stand there gaping, GO!"

The unfortunate guard shuffled off, dropping his equipment to the floor with a clatter. "Y-yessir," he barked in reply.

Morgarath pulled the elaborate doors shut with a crash and dropped down into the plush seat of his throne, a scowl etched onto his features. He fumed silently. What was the use of having all these men at his disposal if they were never there when he needed them?

A small, balding man pushed open the doors mere minutes later. "Y-you called f-for me, Sire?" he stuttered. "I, the h-honourable C-charles, am at y-your d-disposal."

The self-appointed King looked down at him with contempt. "Yes, I did Charles." He picked up one of the scrolls from the pile and tossed it to Charles, who fumbled to catch it. No sooner had he done so than another was on its way. "Tell these pompous fools that I will NOT be appointing any 'Royal Fund Managers' or 'Honoured and Trusted Advisors to the King', or committing any stupid gestures. This is ridiculous."

"O-of course. A-at once, S-sire." Charles stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the scrolls.

"Well? What are you waiting for you useless..." Morgarath searched for a suitable insult, "useless imbecile."

"T-there has been o-other news, S-sire." Morgarath drummed his fingers impatiently.

"From whom? Better not be one of those arrogant Barons."

Charles shuffled his feet nervously. "F-from Ranger C-commandant Ilasg," he paused, uncertain as to whether he should continue. An impatient glare told him this would be a wise idea. "M-more of t-the R-rangers are resigning from the f-force. Seven in the p-past f-few weeks, and more a-are disobeying h-his direct o-orders."

Morgarath stood up suddenly, slamming an elaborately jeweled dagger into the arm of the throne, point first. "DAMN RANGERS. WHY CAN'T THEY ACCEPT THAT I AM KING NOW?" His sudden burst of rage subsiding, he shook his head. He would have to sort that out later.

In front of him, Charles was cowering. He dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Go."

*º*º*º*º*º*º*º*

Ranger Commandant, or more correctly, Baron Ilasg, rode awkwardly up to Castle Araluen. He had refused to ride one of the stocky Ranger horses out of pride, instead riding a handsome black battle horse with white socks.

To the townspeople gathering on either side of the path, he was an unimpressive figure, not at all like the confidence-inspiring Rangers they were used to. This man held his bow awkwardly, and was a poor throw with his knives. He also lacked the comfortable riding positions the Rangers developed over years of riding.

Nevertheless, he waved to them with a smug expression of superiority. The townspeople regarded him curiously as he made his way to the castle gates, and even more curiously as King Morgarath himself stepped out to greet him.

"Ilasg," the newly crowned monarch said in greeting.

"Sire, you called me to the castle?"

Morgarath nodded. "It seems you can read simple instructions after all."

Failing to register the insult, Commandant Ilasg nodded. "Aye, your Majesty, I can indeed."

Leading him into the castle courtyard, Morgarath ordered a stablehand to look after the horse.

<------------<<-

A shadowy figure made his way from the docks, hood pulled up high over his ears. He walked slightly hunched over, as if attempting to conceal his face. He made his way through the neighbouring village in silence, only speaking when it was absolutely necessary. When he did speak, he kept his answers short and sharp.

Nevertheless, a distinctive Hibernian accent could be heard on the few words that did escape his lips, marking him as a foreigner. When thinking back to that mysterious stranger, most of the villagers agreed that the longest sentence he spoke was when he bought a horse from one of the farm owners.

The man, originally reluctant to part with the beast, scrawny though it was, had his mind quickly changed when the foreigner pulled out a jingling bag of coins. His eyes gleamed hungrily and he quickly took the money, not realizing the man had already disappeared into the night, along with his newly acquired horse.

Soon the horse and rider were just a speck in the distance, covering ground at a steady canter. The man had one goal - to find the ruthless monarch King Morgarath.

Another chapter incoming ;)
Btw Kat wrote this one, I wrote the next.

Rangers Ris and Kat