The marble floor of the castle's royal quarters caused the echo of heavy, metal clad feet to echo through the halls. The odd piece of rug or carpeting served to muffle the echo as Grindan and his silent companion strolled over them, but alongside the desire to give a pleasing appearance, the choice of flooring had been selected with a very clear intention in mind; To make stealth as difficult as possible. Since they had no intention of being stealthy, this was not the obstruction that it might have been under other circumstances. 

When he finally turned the corner of a hallway and found himself looking at the royal quarters/bedchamber, the noise had been enough to alert the two solders on guard duty of said part of the castle that someone or something was coming and that they needed to look alert and act like they had been doing their job the whole time. Guard duty was might have been important, but it was also the most boring damn job anyone could be given. Even more so when you were tasked with guarding a room inside of a castle that was well defended and manned by other solders further out. This was not the kind of job that was given to the elite or veteran solders because they could be more useful elsewhere. Thus, the actual duty tended to be given two one of two types of people.

As the two men stood at attention, the one on the left side of the doors started to pale as he looked over the executioner's blood splattered form, betraying his youth and inexperience. The other wasn't phased in the slightest. A rookie and an idiot... not the best combination to have gotten. 

"[color=f7976a]Rebels loyal to the enemy attempted an assault on the war room. The King is fine, but more guards are needed to man the war room. We've been ordered to take your place for the time being.[/color]" Grindan explained quickly, cutting off such questions as 'Why are you here?' and 'Why are you covered in blood?'. The rookie offered a quick salute towards him as he turned to start walking towards the war room because the first thing that the rookies were taught was that they were at the bottom of the ladder and thus everyone outranked them, but the idiot remained exactly where was he was... which caused the rookie to look back and pause in confusion. 

"May I see the order?"

"[color=f7976a]...Really? You want me to trudge all the way back to the war room and ask the King, who's already busy dealing with a revolt at this moment I must remind you, ask him for a moment of his valuable time to write down an order on a piece of paper, telling you exactly what I just told you ten seconds ago?[/color]" 

"...It's procedure."
  
This was why idiots tended to end up on guard duty; Most minds would struggle when it comes to staying aware and alert for long periods of time in an environment where for something interesting or dangerous to happen a lot of things would have to have gone wrong elsewhere, but idiots tended to be so small minded that things boredom and imagination never entered their heads. What made idiots [i]great[/i] at being guards was the fact that while they were small minded, the things they [i]could[/i] understand they took deathly seriously. For them, there were two lists of people: Those with permission to enter the area they were guarding on one list and those with the authority to give them orders on the other. If your name wasn't on either list, talking to a wall would be more productive. 

The Royal Executioner was on neither list.

Grindan turned his head to look at his companion for a moment... before he sighed and turned back to the idiot of a guard standing in his way. Without warning, he lashed out with an armored fist, backhanding the fool in the side of the head with enough force and the element of surprise to knock the man prone in a crash of metal on marble. His axe quickly being found by his hands, the irritation that had been building up blinded him to the sounds of swords being drawn and the horrified rookie finding himself faced with his first and last real fight as the axe was brought down again and again and again. At one point he had to plant a foot on the body... corpse?... in order to give himself enough leverage to yank the axe blade out of the chest plate it had gotten stuck in, but another swing soon followed just to make sure.

His temper satisfied as his weapon and armor was now coated in blood rather then just splattered with droplets, Grindan turned to his undead follower and ordered "[color=f7976a]Guard the door.[/color]" before planting his shoulder against the door of the royal quarters and forcing it open to the sound of the screams of panic and fear of the Queen, some of her servants and at least one of her handmaidens. 

As the red rage of years of a variety of insults and jokes at his expense started to descend, Grindan shifted his grasp on his axe as he stood forward with the certainty and purpose of death itself.