[RPG] [BT] [RoF] End of a Tyrant: The Death of Jean-Olivier Chénier, King of Fwuvoghor

[Dominic]

The sky was grey in Wilwau, smoke from Cteduul had finally started floating
over Norjke, darkening the sky. The ground was a little dry, facilitating
travel.

Jean-Olivier was in a good mood, a very good mood. The halt of the takeover
in Zod was of little concern to him, for he knew it wouldn't have worked
anyways, he simply wanted to pillage the fortress and entrench his men in it
to soften it up for when they would really come. The Monster Swarm was
defeated, good riddance. Nothing but trouble, they were.

---

The day before, Jean-Olivier had stopped in the temple of Darhauyo. He had
received blessings from the priests there, "the lord is pleased of your
work, sire, you give us all strength", and he had checked on the progress of
the conversion in Villriil and Darhauyo, and was quite pleased at the
numbers. "Teros is with us", he proclaimed, after he promised to go spread
the faith north by force.

---

Wilwau was the leasts of his concern. "A few monsters", he thought, "me and
the others will make mince meat out of these abberations". As he marched and
had his captain organise his men for battle, he couldn't help but think
"Avalon must truly be condemned for annihilation, if such abberations can
breed in it as they please". The region had not yet been looted, he was
looking forward to a good sum, he needed to recruit more soldiers after all.

However, messenger after messenger arrived. "My lord and his soldiers will
not make it on time", they each said. "Well, I won't wait for them. Perhaps
they'll simply arrive in a later stage of battle. I can crush Avalon, so I
can crush these critters!"

---

The monsters had started regrouping. "With the lord on my side", he thought,
as the odds were turning against him. He unseathed unsheathed [[Royal
Cleaver]], his trusted claymore. It was his oldest possession, a miracle
that he had managed to keep it so long, he almost treated it as a friend. He
owed everything to this blade... it was what made him monarch, after all.

---

He threw himself into battle, somewhere in the front. As the beasts arrived,
they attempted to group up on them. He could see his captain with another
soldier moving behind one to flank it. The ground was rather flat, not much
vegetation grew, which made maneuvrability easier. Infront of him he had one
of them. Not the biggest, so he lunged at it with a few powerful swings. The
creature started screaming as it's arms started bleeding, and Jean-Olivier
felt gleeful as he was slaughtering the monster, which he still blamed for
all the miseries that plagued the continent.

But the glee was shortlived, one of the animals suprised him from the side,
an alpha by the looks of it, and sent him flying a few meters back. The
strength of the blow had stunned him, and he rose with difficulty, his body
agonising. The creature left him no time, it was already pressing the
attack. The few soldiers who came in time to help their king were of little
help, as they were quickly torn apart.

Jean-Olivier raised his arm to strike at the creature, but was knocked off
his feet again. This time, however, he was too weak, the armor too heavy. He
could not manage to rise. The monster came up to him, raised his leg, and
with all his weight, stomped on Jean-Olivier's torso, crushing all his ribs,
puncturing his lung and liver, among other organs.

He did not suffer long, the bleeding was too intense, and he was still
stunned by the strong blows. "Lord..." was all he managed to whisper as he
brought his weapon over his body, and passed out.
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