<div class="floatright">(https://img00.deviantart.net/660b/i/2014/298/2/a/barbarian_by_wereorc-d84344r.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Garret Nasteal<br/><strong>Time of day:</strong>Mid Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Executioners Platform<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>None, Open ;<strong>Mentioned:</strong>Zkulu<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Passive Perception: 12 (or +2)<br/><hr/><br/>It was always a grim task and one that few had the stomach for. It was hard to rest with the weight of another beings death but Garret was no stranger to this endeavor. He's had to end the life of others on the military campaign and whilst he didn't enjoy killing, he knew that he was good at giving a swift death. It was harsh but it was something a simplistic man, like him could accomplish. Every day was similar. He would get up, eat some simple meal of eggs and bread with some very weak ale and then begin to sharpen his axe. He sharpened it so that he could make sure that the one who's head was to be removed would not feel a thing. That it would be a quick and clean end to their life. His headpiece was of a traditional black mask with a mental face guard. It was meant to keep the blood off his face and eyes. He wore it every time along with his coif and chain shirt underneath black robes for the same reason. Then he was out the door at the crack of dawn so as not to disturb anyone as he made his way to work. Grim as it was, a job was a job.<br/><br/>But this was also nearing its end as was the case for a great many things. Garrett had been debating this decision he had reached for some time. The stories that had been told to him by a Ungulus storyteller by the name of Zkulu had spurred the spark of adventure in him. They had been weighed and  whilst the life he led was comfortable it was not something he was completely content with. There was plenty he still intended to do and the prospects afforded to an executioner were slim because of the stigma behind them. But a born champion could have so much more options upon retiring. This same debate had done it's dance before when he was merely a farmer returning from a four year enlistment with the military. When he came home, the life of a farmer no longer satisfied him. He had only come to his decision within the past few days. But the same choice was made this time. He would push his luck and put his fortunes to the test. But first he had a job to do...<br/><br/>He looked up to the king and the royalty to acknowledge them with a formal salute. Greataxe held to his right side and pommel down with the familiar posture of a soldier. Looking back over to the prisoner being escorted to him, he knew that the circumstances meant this poor sod was suffering already from the crime had committed. Having read the records and followed the very swift trial, he knew what this one had attempted. A crime of the highest caliber, meant to uproot the very foundation of his home from the top. Regardless, all were equal upon the chopping block. The prisoner was positioned by the assistance of the guards, as some were expected to struggle and this was likely a case for it. With his right hand firmly placed upon the back of the prisoner, the guards were to secure him. He was meticulous and made ready with the hood for the condemned. It also allowed him to more clearly see the scales upon the back of the neck of the condemned man. Whatever this was, it was starting to look less and less human in appearance. He had seen many a beastman but this was something new.<br/><br/>As always the executioner knelt down as he quietly spoke to the prisoner.<strong>"Close your eyes and find peace with either your gods or loved ones."</strong>He did find something... unusual with his eyes and how out of place they were. It didn't matter to him and he couldn't give the man his last words as the tongue was cut out. Possible some sort of magic user or just torture on the part of the dungeon masters. He gave a sigh and simply puts on the hood for the condemned man and then stood up. He took hold of his axe and waited. He waited as he always did to give the prisoner a few final seconds of life to make peace. A common courtesy only he could grant as he gives a simple prayer to Karma.<strong>"Find penance in your next life."</strong>His hands tighten around his greataxe and he makes ready for the coup de grace to take the assassins head off in one swing. It gave the crowds time to prepare. Be it to look away or stay affixed upon the climax of the execution and it gave him the time to measure the neck and make sure he does not miss, last thing anyone wants is a botched beheading.