Tuesday Excerpt, "Revenge"

The Courtroom or Throne Room as Mandrean sometimes called
it was in the center of the second floor of the palace. It was a grand
hall. The floors and walls were polished marble with gold and
silver ornaments. There was a gallery in the back. It was along
either side of two colossal doors with brass handles. They served
as the main entrance and exit for everyone except the most
important members of the empire.
Precisely etched in the main floor was a map of the continent,
which reached from one wall to the next. It was complete and
detailed. The only odd thing of note was there were no political
boundaries anywhere.
Lord Mandrean was true to his heritage in believing that it was
his duty if not his right to expand the empire and let none stand
against its might. He saw no reason to chisel borders into the stone
when he would frequently be moving them.
The map faced the front of the room. Behind the map sat the
centerpiece of the hall. It was his magnificent golden throne with
jewels encrusted in its sides and arms. Silken pillows cushioned
the already padded seat and a golden stool was stationed along
side.
Still, the most intriguing part of the hall was the ceiling. It was
a crystal dome. Though the view was not clear through the frosted
glass, it allowed for sunlight to enter and illuminate the marble.
With the room shaped as a rectangle, pillars along the perimeter
supported the circular dome. A lantern hung from each pillar for
additional light. Torches had previously been used, but the format
was changed due to secondary fires they started two years before
during the room’s destruction at Linvin’s hands. Each column
stationed a goblin guard. The number of soldiers present seemed
exorbitant, but it was used more for effect than protection.
The gallery was full as it always was when court was to be held.
No commoners found a seat there, however. Rather, noblemen,
businessmen and foreign dignitaries filled the seats. They were
becoming restless waiting for the session to begin and openly
quarreled.
Four Chairs of Honor were placed before the mob. In each sat a
general. Though their uniforms were identically colored in
mandrean green, they each displayed their individuality through
the decorations that adorned them. The display went from modest
to extraordinary.
At last Necromancer entered the room and took his place
hovering next to the throne. He was melancholy as ever.
A trumpeter emerged from a side entrance and called for
attention. “Good people, please rise as I present to you the
emperor, Lord Mandrean the Thirteenth.” He followed his
statement with a chorus of the national anthem. The gallery took to
their feet and began to applaud as the emperor carefully walked to
his throne in an effort to not step on the sorest parts of his feet.
Mandrean was covered in the finest silks with military honors
sewn into the cloth. Gold lace brought an illuminating luster to the
navy attire. A modest crown highlighted his head. If it had been a
prestigious occasion, he would have decked himself in his full
ornamental dress. With the routine nature of the agenda, Mandrean
dressed the part and saved his neck the weight of his enormous
crown.
He sat and called a servant to bring a pillow to be placed on his
footstool to cushion his feet. He proceeded to rest them with
obvious pain.