Snippet #2076473

"I'm sure that your actions to come will dictate your standing," he replied; talking calmly as he strode through the busy streets. "But until then, I would be a fool not to start with the foundations my father spent fifteen years building. This place, this culture, is the first of its kind. No other such settlement exists as large or as advanced as we; we're the dawn of a new, brilliant era and I need to make sure the men and women who build it are worthy of remembrance."

He watched as the Senate rose before them, high above the surrounding buildings upon a mound of white stone and exactly fifty steps to climb to reach the pillar-laden entrance.

"My mother despises this place. She says that one day I will come to also despite it, as a pit of snakes and spiders. I hope that her prophesy turns false, or at least falls short of the target."

He began to climb; Senators, Soldiers and Citizens alike stepped aside to allow him higher. The chambers were not fully open to the public, but the outside and the public forum within (where administrators received feedback from the common man and relayed it to the meeting halls beyond) were often teeming with men, women and children of all ages and occupations.

This is why, that when a certain foreigner had climbed those steps barely ten minutes beforehand, he hadn't been stopped. Looked upon with slight suspicion, perhaps, but the people were very aware that no such law yet existed where ostracization was a vald path.

This, perhaps, was about to change.

As the new king climbed higher, the foreigner began to descend and wound a cream turban around his face like a mask, while brandishing a four-inch bronze blade in his hand. The assassin began to quickly move...

Down the steps he ran, two at a time, before leaping forwards and falling down upon Tenszar, who was pre-occupied with watching his feet so he didn't fall. The two stumbled, fell and rolled in a scrawling heap back down to the street below.

At the bottom, one man pinned the other. Punches were thrown by the one underneath, followed by a slash of a blade that the prince could only block with his naked hand. He grabbed the hand and the knife within it and wrestled as hard as he could.
A rock was thrown by a nearby man, which struck the assassin in the head and caused him to stumble to the ground. He released the knife, but Tenszar's left hand and wrist had been struck and royal blood began to spread quickly over the stone ground.

The assassin regained his composure, watching as two dozen guards began to quickly run to fill in the surrounding area and come to their King's aid. The foreigner made the choice to run and delay his death. Against such numbers, with Tenszar still alive, he knew he could not succeed witout throwing away what he was not yet willing to leave. The would-be killer thus turned, pushed his way through the growing crowd and disappeared into the city as many a guard began the chase.

At the bottom of the stairs, Tenszar could only tightly clutch at his wound with his remaining right hand and watch events unfold around him. "Healer!!!" he yelled; he cried.