[i]Crimson Guardians of the Asylum HQ, The Spire of Othe, Floor 35[/i]

The courtyard of the keep was in dead silence. A dozen guards stood at the ready against the four walls that surrounded the courtyard, each of them held a blazing torch to illuminate the area. Three more guards stood in the center, their hands held firmly on the pummels of their sheathed blades, next to a fourth man, although he wasn't a guard. He was, in fact, a criminal and, as such, was kneeling down in complete submission. He didn't seem to realize where he was, almost as if he'd lost his mind. The tattered rags that clothed him barely covered his shaking body. Mez wondered whether it truly was the cold that gripped him and not fear.

He walked, silently, from the large wooden doors that lead into the keep, other figures were filing out from the innards of the keep, there were eleven in total. The three guards in the center turned to face him and simultaneously placed a closed right fist over their left breast, just above the heart. Mez acknowledged them with a nod. His stride lengthened just by a little so that he may reach them quicker. 

Execution was a nasty business. But sometimes there was no other solution. The kneeling man had been a prisoner beneath the Spire for just over three weeks. His crime was first-degree murder. He had stationed himself just outside of the Town of Beginnings and proceeded to prey upon the lower ranks. Slaughtering weaker players as if they were just another thing to be farmed. The man had managed five killings before a Crimson Guard had apprehended him. He was teleported to the Spire immediately to stand trial. His time was now up. The Twelve Guardians had reviewed his case and had granted him the most severe form of punishment. Death.

It had been Mez who initially introduced them all to the idea of policing the players who killed other players, otherwise known as PKers. This man had done it simply for sport, for his own twisted amusement, Mez felt sick just looking at him. They then had to take up the mantle of responsibility. He wasn't stupid, Mez knew that he couldn't completely eradicate PKing from this game, as long as it were an optional thing to do, but he could do his utmost to deter others from doing it. And so, as the Guild Leader, he nominated himself to perform all executions. It was a guilt ridden task but there was no one else stronger and more dedicated to the cause.

He loomed over the criminal now, his shadow dancing in the firelight, and looked down upon the husk of what once was a human being. A glimpse of a smile still etched upon the man's face. Mez, however, felt nothing but pity. [b]"Secure him."[/b] He uttered. One of the guards held the man's top half against a chopping block, whilst another secured the metallic shackles that would keep him in place, his head was left hanging over the edge with a bloody, wooden bucket underneath. 

Rhan had come to stand beside Mez by now, a worried look upon his face. [i]"Are you sure this time, Mez. I can always..."[/i]

[b]"No."[/b] He interrupted. [b]"You know the rules. Only one of us may be red."[/b] He fixed Rhan with a stern look as he said so, then eased off and began looking at the ten remaining of the Twelve Guardians, their green diamonds floating proudly above their heads. He daren't look up at his own. Instead, he opened his inventory and, after scrolling through it momentarily, selected a weapon named [url=http://i.imgur.com/ADNmBpG.png?1]Retribution +3[/url]. Doing so caused the one-handed sword to materialize in his grasp. He took a single step towards the criminal, soon to be relieved from this world and the past world. Slowly, his lifted his right arm, in which he held the blade, and pointed it toward the pitch black sky.

[b]"You have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have been found guilty. For the heinous crime of multiple accounts of first-degree murder, I, MezmeriSin, Venerable Lord of the Asylum, grant you only that which you deserve most. May your descent into Hell be everlasting and your stay, even longer. I sentence you..."[/b] He paused, allowing the gravity of his next words to fill the air. 

[b]"...to death."[/b]

With those final words, he brought his sword down swiftly upon the man's neck. Crimson liquid sprayed for a while, after the man's severed head fell into the bucket, but it quickly died down. Mez flicked the blood from his sword and sheathed it at his side. "The deed is done." He announced. "Place his head upon a spike with the others." It was the last thing he said before turning back towards the keep and walking off.