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Razol chuckled as the shackles were released. [color=8A2BE2]"Now this is an execution I can behind."[/color] He said as he stood up. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. He walked into the armoury and looked around. He grabbed a [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ca/b9/c2/cab9c2dd4798f6a214e30b989d9e095b.png]Spiked chain whip[/url] off a wall. He spun it around himself, nodding. [color=8A2BE2]"This I can get behind."[/color] letting the chain wrap itself around the hilt, he smirked. Looking at the possible armour, a glint appeared in his eyes. A leather helm. It looked beautiful. Horrific. Picking it up, he put it on. [color=8A2BE2]"Oh yes. This I like"[/color] 
He acquired a simple leather armour with a bandolier of pouches, which he filled with throwing knives. Armed up, he went to get his tattoo. 
Walking over to the mark maker with a pep in his step. He was going to get it on the nape of his neck. Rolling his head in its socket, to stretch out the muscles, he looked forward to it. Pain that wasn't just meaningless torture. Pain that served a purpose. 

After getting his mark, he walked back into the throne room. Chain Whip on his hip, and face obscured by the leather mask. [color=8A2BE2]"So, what is our first mission?"[/color]