Temerkin's Throne (10 Years before the Great Schism)
From the Book "A collection of modern events" by Hadrian Boltfas
Tamerkin was going to die, that he knew, he knew it would likely be painful, so it was with pain that he steeled his heart. It was to be beyond a pain in a more simple sense, it was a death as humiliating for the former count as was horrible to watch and feel.
They stripped Tamerkin of his clothes, tying a leash around the wolf's neck. Pulled around through the streets of the capital naked, a hoard of those loyal to King and Goddess taunted him, screamed at him and assaulted him with both food and stones, attacks that his guard escorts did nothing to prevent. He somehow managed to pull his thoughts to his clothing, how he missed wearing some, any, for it had been a week and they left him without something to hide his shame in the dungeons, leading to the day he was to be executed.
Wilththread, king of wolves, despite being a hardened man and warrior, loved spectacles. He loved grand shows of power, and this was a time to show power through spectacular might. Just a day prior he had declared Tamerkin's execution day to be a new holiday, one to be celebrated centuries down the line in remembrance for how the great royal family crushed the rebellious Tamerkin and his house. How he 'proved' the power of the mother goddess' blessing was still as strong in him as it was the first king of wolves.
He was finally lead to the front of the palace of wolves, a Gothic, almost monstrous looking stone home. It was at the top of the grand steps that lead to the great black door of the palace, it was something that killed Tamerkin's attempts at bravery completely. King Wilththread stood before it, smiling, clad in the black plate armor that he wore in the final battle of the revolt. The color almost matched the pitch black of the wolf-king's fur, a cloke of silver color wrapped at his back. A silver crown with a wolf snapping its maw upon the base, a single ruby inside the mouth.
"A throne for you, your grace!" The king smiled, motioning towards his 'throne' which was to be the method of which Tamerkin would die.
The 'throne' was also a clear insult as it was made of solid gold. Gold may have been pretty, but also was weak, much like a woman. So as such, gold was a thing only meant for females in the eyes of the wolf people and their kingdom. Under the golden chair was a mighty fire. Next to the burning throne was a simple crown also made of gold that sat inside a pot of burning embers.
"No." At first, it was a whisper, but as Tamerkin was forced closer to the steps, closer to the chair, it became a scream.
"N-no, no!"
He attempted to pull apart the rope that tightly held his arms, he slammed his back into a wolf guard behind them that in annoyance delivered a firm kick to Tamerkin's rump, sending him thumping to the paved stone ground, something that knocked the breath out of him. He attempted to scramble to his feet while repeatedly screaming "No!"
All the while the king laughed, he along with the crowd. The same guard that kicked him down grabbed Temerkin by the scruff of the neck, making him squeal painfully like a pup as he was forced to his feet and forced to walk to the first step of the three. As he neared the throne, Tamerkin threw himself to the ground, kowtowing before the wolf king, he cried.
"Please your grace, have mercy! I beg you, kill me, but kill me in an honorable way, not like this, please!"
The crowd grew quiet, and as the guard behind Tamerkin readied to pull the broken man to his feet, the king held up a hand, taking a step forward so he stood directly over the grey wolf.
"Well, are you sorry for what you've done?" The king smiled all the wider, talking as if he was speaking to a child, this garnering another series of laughs from the crowd.
"Y-yes, yes! Yes, I am very, very sorry, please your grace!"
"Very well, on your feet."
Temerkin was hesitant to stand but did so, albeit slowly. When he stood fully at length, a dagger was produced by the king's belt, much to everyone's surprise the king took Temerkin's hands and cut the rope off. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, his lips twitched slightly, for a second resembling a smile. In a sudden pull and shove, the king tightly gripped Temerkin's arm and threw him onto the chair, as soon as he landed on it servants held him down and applied straps, ensuring he stayed upon the burning torture tool. His screams were not heard even by those nearest to him, for the crowd's laughing and cheering simply overwhelmed whatever howls he produced.
"Behold!" The King's voice bellowed once again, quieting the crowd, but still somehow loud enough to overshadow Temerkin's screaming.
"A crown for the king!" He outstretched his arms as if expecting a hug from the sky. A servant gripped the crown with large tongs and briefly waved it in front of the mob. Ignoring whatever babbles and failed words from Temerkin, the crown was placed firmly on his head just after another servant applied a new strap to ensure he couldn't shake it off.
Temerkin felt an hour of this pain before the Mother Goddess showed him mercy and let him die. The stench of burned fur and meat was as thick as the smoke left in the air... his body was left on what would forever be known as "Temerkin's throne" and as a reminder to others who may rebel, the golden throne sits to this day upon the steps of the black castle.