Ray held his breath, but his face was quickly turning purple. He whimpered, his eyes searching desperately for help from Telago, but as always the man gave no sympathy in return. He could feel himself losing consciousness rapidly and it wouldn't be long before-
"Stop slouching and stop holding your breath," the young man that worked at measuring Ray grumbled, having half a mind to stick him with one of the needles he held between his fingers. "I can't get an accurate measurement of you if you keep on like this and I won't have you crying to me if it comes out too tight."
"Sorry," Ray muttered sheepishly, letting out his breath for the third time at least. The garb he was fitting him in was a dark red, and to the side was a silky black cloak that fit over it and hid the color like a lamp over the sun. It even had a hood that could easily contain his hair.
"You should be sorry," the man, Mr. Bityn, hissed. "You're going to be attending a very illustrious event and if there's even a single seam out of place it's going to be my head, not yours."
"I'm sure Ms. Corivan will understand if I tell her," Ray answered with a crooked smile. "She seems to like me quite a bit."

Mr. Bityn's eyebrows raised incredulously, and he opened his mouth, but Telago intervened, holding something out to Ray. "I nearly forgot. Once you got fitted Lady Corosia wanted you to have this. It's very important to her that you're wearing it during the event."

It was a golden circuit of sorts, and though Ray couldn't figure out where the clasps were, Telago seemed to have no problem putting it on for him. He nodded thoughtfully and added thoughtfully as Ray tried to look at it—finding it rather tight, "I daresay it's rather fitting on you. I think I understand her taste in it after all."
"I'll get used to it," Ray murmured as Mr. Bitlyn continued to study him gravely.
"Well, I think we're done here. Go along then," he sighed, though he took another quick look on the seal that graced Ray's chest. It looked both like an exotic sun symbol and a strange cat that was akin to a lion but not quite. It was there in dull grey compared to the cloak. He felt rather fancy and big in the new clothes—the uniform, he thought—and so he was practically showing off as he stepped lithely off the platform.

He didn't feel nearly as big or bold with Telago leading him by the hand down the street like a small child. He glanced at him, wondering why he was acting like he might get lost, or kidnapped, or run away at the slightest chance. It felt ridiculous, really.

They weren't quite at the gathering place when Lady Corivan met them. She was dressed elegantly in a long, draping satin. He found himself studying the ground, in fact, upon seeing her, and she smirked at him knowing that he couldn't see it until she reached out to lift his chin, telling him, "You're a guard of the Corivan family, Ray, remember? It's not befitting of you to be acting anything but confident standing beside your mistress."

He studied her curiously before nodding, adding almost as an afterthought, trying not to stutter, "Yes, ma'am—my lady."

She laughed and now that he was looking up at her he realized she was holding a sort of package and she told him teasingly, "Sharp eyes, I have a gift for you." She then unwrapped it methodically and placed it in his hand by its hilt, carefully folding his fingers around it. It was a dragon scimitar, and he couldn't help but stare at it in wonder.
"I don't understand…why would I need something so ornate here?" He asked her nervously.
"Ornate? Oh honey, don't you know? This is authentic and it wasn't cheap or easy to get. I hope you take good care of it," Lady Corivan responded, wrapping a hand around his arm as she moved to position herself at his side. Telago grumbled inaudibly.
"I can't carry something like this," Ray responded dumbly. "I lose and break weapons so easily. This should be put in the hands of someone more responsible."
"I know no better hands than yours," she answered, "And you better not lose or break this. This is a symbol of your loyalty to the family, of your devotion. It's a sign of my love for you and your work." She smiled coyly, and he started to take into account the real value of the sword he was holding. He carefully placed it in the empty sheathe on his belt as they entered the manor that held the gathering they were heading for.

There were so many people, all of different shades, sizes and accents, and they all seemed to follow their movement with a jeering sort of sport. He wanted to cower behind her, or run back out, but he knew that wasn't befitting of a guard of Corivan, and so he held his ground as Corivan led her through the gathered people toward a set of stairs going downward. He found it was surprisingly easy to navigate the crowd that he thought it would be, and considered that he owed her for being there to lead him and prove that it was possible to begin with.

They were early getting to the bottom chamber however and so it was at least an hour before they began to stream in, though at least they had found a comfortable place to stand so that Ray didn't feel overly held in and thus wasn't as scared about being in such a huge crowd of people. The sound of metal ringing and quiet voices echoing throughout the hollow chamber was almost painful to his ears, but he didn't complain. He was glad to be there with her on official business.

Things suddenly quieted down and in the middle, ground lower than that which they stood upon, a man was dragged to the center by a series of chains around his limbs. They looked old and rusted, and they cut into his wrists with each tug so that he had to move with them if he didn't want to be cut further. On his eyes was a thick swath of white cloth that Ray could barely make out himself. It was endearing to him, he thought, to see this man that also couldn't see, but for a very straightforward reason.

"Please stop. You don't understand. I wasn't the one that took the money from the vault. It wasn't me," the man sobbed, his voice rattling and wet as if someone had already done him the favor of piercing a lung. It sounded like a miracle that he could speak at all. "Please don't do this to me. I am loyal. I am still loyal. I will help find them. I will help find them and prove myself—"

His voice was cut off by a sharp thump and the rest of his words came as a wet wheeze. He tried to reach his throat where an arrow was placed, but by now his arms were firmly held to his sides and no matter what he did he found himself unable to get to it, leaving him simply floundering uselessly. The nobles weren't altogether cruel, and did their very best to end his misery in whatever way they could, and that meant throwing sharp stones and glass, some of them screaming and whooping, especially when one of these things hit him and gave him a particularly nasty gash or made him grunt audibly over the choking noise he made.

Ray felt a sense of horror building as the thick scent of blood and fear filled his nose, mixed with the savage satisfaction from this display. Corivan kept a hand on his shoulder, and it was calming in a sense, but when he looked back at her all he could make out was her morbid grin as she watched. Telago seemed to take particular interest in a long, thin cylinder of his that could have been a magical invention though Ray had a feeling was more of a smoking device.
The man's panicked thrashing rose as she chains starting to pull him apart and seem to tug at him like two feral dogs trying to split a piece of particularly tough meat amongst themselves. Ray supplied the growling as he felt his stomach churn in horror. He was looking at his shoes again by the time the grisly scene was over. If he didn't know better he might have thought he had passed out on his feet for a bit as he was informed the next moment by a noble standing on a platform above the rest of them in flowing purple garb. "And now that this grisly business is taken care of, we can reach the real event."
"You don't want to get too hot," Corivan explained as she removed his black cloak from him.

The announcer continued, "Two high-ranking houses have recently recruited new guards amongst their ranks. As is tradition I suggest we test them out a bit. On this side we have Leteq the Severed of house Dourval."

At his word a man with a thick, barrel chest jumped into the ring with dark rings around his green eyes. He looked particularly tall and particularly mean. He leaned over to get a better looked even as the man called, "And on this side is Ray the Red, of house Corivan." He didn't register that it was his name until he heard 'Corivan' and by then people were already seizing him, already trying to throw him over the side. He looked back to his Lady Corivan for help, but she and the wizard had seemed to have disappeared from plain sight, and it wasn't long before he was tossed over the edge by the eager crowd, falling heavily on his side though he was still able to pull himself—half-stunned—to his knees for a start.

"Shall we see which house has the highest mettle?" The announcer laughed even as Leteq thumped ever closer to Ray. He wasn't able to make it out before, but this man was missing a hand. That would have made this simpler, except that hand was expertly replaced with a mithril hammer. A hammer that was coming crashing down at his head even as the announcer spoke.

Ray panicked and pulled the scimitar, putting it in the hammer's way. It bounced off and the man glared, but the first thing that Ray thought as he felt the jarring waves racing up his arm was that the blade was in danger of breaking. The next strike that the man made hit solidly on his arm as he shifted the blade a bit so it wouldn't take the brunt of the strike and Ray knew immediately what a mistake he had made.
He had landed on that arm when he was thrown down and it had been stinging, but now he was certain it was nothing but powder as it limply to his side, Ray's teeth clenched in agony though he did manage to switch the sword to the other hand. His less dominant right which didn't sound right at all.
People were screaming for Leteq to finish him, and the man smirked darkly as he lifted the hammer one last time to give them what they wanted, aligning it with Ray's fragile head, and Lady Corivan was nowhere to be seen.