In a mountain top fortress to the north of the iron kingdom an eastern knight sat, legs crossed, reminiscing of the times before the chaos of the present. He remembered coming here from the far off and mysterious eastern nations so many years ago. He remembered meeting the man who would become a brother to him and now an enemy.
He had helped the king when his kingdom was but a small fractured price of a former kingdom. He helped train his knights and shape them into a proper military force. He watched as the man he saw as a brother turned away and ignored the suffering of his people, and in turn made it worse.
The knight sat by and watched as the once bountiful fields of the harvest valley into toxic cesspits that were mined to feed the king's greed. When the curse of undeath came the knight watched as those who were afflicted were hunted down and tortured sadistically on the king's orders.
Finally, after all this time he had decided he'd had enough. He had gathered those knights that were loyal to him and retreated to a secluded fortress in the mountains. Now he waited for his former king and brother to come. To hunt him down and kill him for his treachery.
The knight was broken from his musings by the sound of swords clashing and men dying. The king had arrived.
Sir Alonne waited patiently for his opponent to appear, for he knew as good as his men were they were no match for the king. He heard footsteps coming from the hall and looked up as his former comrade entered the room. Without a word Alonne stood and readied his blade. Nodding in respect for his former liege as he readied his own blade he dashed forward swing his blade in an arc.
The fighting was intense the combatants blades clashing before the eastern knight came to a conclusion. No matter how hard he tried he could not score even a glancing blow on his old friend whereas he himself was covered in wounds. Deciding to end this fight with honor intact he jumped back and held the tip of his blade to his stomach and stabbed. The pain was excruciating but he did not cry out, no he was much too prideful for that. The darkness closed around him and Sir Alonne was no more.
00000000000000000
(Iron King POV)
Having dealt with the traitor the king felt no joy seeing his once good friend dead on the ground. As the king looked around the room he noticed a door in the corner. Curious he entered and what he saw shocked him. Sitting in the center of the room was the old throne he used during his time as the king of a much stronger kingdom. For the first time in years the cruel, ruthless king wept. He wept for the death of his friend and all he stood for.
